Blue Birds

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Blue Birds Page 11

by Caroline Starr Rose


  I carry Virginia to her home,

  tap the door with my shoe.

  Mrs. Dare opens,

  her face blank and empty.

  Dark stains still reach beyond her elbows,

  stiffening the fabric of her threadbare sleeves.

  So distant she seems.

  If I give Mrs. Dare the baby,

  will she remember to care for her?

  “Perhaps I should keep her longer,

  let you get your rest?”

  She shakes her head,

  reaches for Virginia.

  Reluctantly,

  I give the baby to her mother.

  For a moment,

  I linger in the doorway,

  watch the sun

  fade from the sky.

  Someone grasps my hand,

  turns me around.

  “You’ve been outside the palisade,” George says.

  “After I’ve warned you.”

  My mind races.

  Has he seen more?

  Why did I ever

  speak to him of Kimi?

  “Perhaps your father should know.”

  “No,” I say,

  “there is no need.”

  He studies me closely.

  I read a wisp of worry on his face.

  “Be careful, Alis.”

  Alis

  I become skilled at deceiving my parents:

  snatching moments

  once Father departs to work metal in his shed,

  once Mother has left with laundry

  for the unmarried men.

  As for the babies,

  young Miss Lawrence

  agrees to do her mending

  in Mother’s rocking chair;

  Mr. Florrie is happy to rest

  on the bench outside our doorway,

  prop his hairy arm upon our windowsill,

  his hairier chin cupped in his hand.

  I pretend I must fetch water,

  remove laundry from the line.

  Instead I leave the village,

  quickly steal away.

  Alis

  She teaches me

  which roots to eat,

  how to weave a basket bowl,

  where to find the sweetest berries,

  that crabs keep a tidy home.

  What marvelous things

  Kimi has helped me see.

  KIMI

  Knowing her

  enriches every ordinary moment,

  makes each sorrow easier to bear.

  Yet how long

  can friendship

  truly remain hidden?

  Must we

  someday

  bring this

  to an end?

  Alis

  Someone knocks

  as I wipe the table.

  Mrs. Dare is at our threshold.

  She wears something clean at last.

  “I support you,” she says to Father.

  “I’ll do what is necessary.”

  She clasps his hand,

  pulls the door behind her.

  I glance at Mother,

  try to read in her expression

  what this means.

  But she will not meet my eye.

  Alis

  It has been one week

  since Governor White’s leaving.

  Most have assembled,

  but there are some

  who have chosen to be absent

  for the meeting the assistants have called.

  George and his band of boys

  roam the square unattended.

  Father calls the group to order,

  and though voices fall,

  the shouts of George’s boys

  continue unchecked.

  “While we anticipate the Governor’s return,

  our future is uncertain,” Father says.

  “Our circumstance has worsened:

  each day less food,

  division amongst us,

  unrest outside our borders.”

  His voice drops.

  “The death of Ananias Dare.”

  Mrs. Dare’s face is ashen.

  Father moves to stand beside her.

  “Governor White confessed

  we live near Indians who’ve hated us

  long before we anchored here.”

  Manteo speaks.

  “I have gone to the Roanoke.

  I’ve talked with them,

  as I did my people.”

  “I do not trust this man!”

  The woman’s words are full of hate.

  I turn to see who speaks.

  It is Mother!

  “Why would Manteo side with us?” she says.

  “He could favor the Roanoke!”

  The gathering’s set ablaze.

  “. . . this place is cursed . . .”

  “. . . my son only talks of fighting Indians!”

  “. . . hardly any flour left . . .”

  “. . . Manteo, I cannot trust him . . .”

  “. . . don’t know why we ever came.”

  “Enough!” Father roars.

  One word reaps silence.

  “We must prepare to leave for Chesapeake.”

  There are cries of gratitude.

  Mother embraces Mrs. Dare,

  the babies between.

  I cannot help but edge away from their joy,

  the ugly power of Mother speaking.

  “The Governor thinks it best

  to delay until spring,” Manteo says.

  Father’s mouth is firm.

  “John White is gone.

  All he offered us

  was false security.

  Who will leave with me?”

  Men and women ease toward Father.

  Several draw close to Manteo.

  A few stay where they are.

  I am pulled in all directions:

  finding safety,

  losing Kimi.

  This division in our midst.

  Where do I belong?

  Alis

  Father insists

  we desert

  this prison,

  this place

  whose beauty

  sings within me.

  Alis

  Manteo and I,

  we have a pattern now.

  I check to see no one is near,

  walk slowly to his guard post.

  He signals when the way is clear

  of Englishmen or Roanoke

  that I might go to Kimi.

  Today,

  her eyes are troubled.

  Something smooth

  like weathered pebbles

  is cupped in her palm.

  Kimi touches my forehead,

  brings our hands to my heart.

  Her pearls are sea foam

  spilling from her fingers.

  “Montoac,” she says,

  placing them over my head.

  She gives this to me?

  Montoac.

  It is what she called

  Uncle Samuel’s bird.

  What might it mean?

  I try to piece ideas together:

  Gift?

  Token?

  Treasure?

  All feel right.

  I run my finger around the strand.

  “Thank you,” I tell her,

  touched by her generosity.

  I reach for Uncle’s bird,

  something I might give her.

  I hold it out.

  She p
ushes it away.

  “Montoac,” she whispers,

  her eyes unblinking.

  I think she wants

  to hear me say it.

  “Montoac,” I answer.

  The word

  brings her

  relief.

  KIMI

  Alis tucks my rope of pearls

  inside her coverings.

  And though its beauty is hidden,

  it is right for her to do.

  Every day, the risks

  we take are greater.

  There, close to her heart,

  my montoac will protect her

  from what Wanchese

  surely plans.

  Alis

  The sun has moved beyond the tallest trees.

  It is later than I’ve intended.

  Racing through the forest,

  I hear footsteps behind me.

  The Indian again?

  The pearls thump against my skin,

  warmed as if they are a part of me.

  I squeeze between the palisade,

  scramble over the earthen wall,

  desperate to escape whoever is so near.

  “Who’s there?”

  Old Lump-and-Bump lumbers into view.

  “Miss Harvie?” he says,

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Catching a breath of air?”

  The story is ridiculous even to my ears.

  Lump-and-Bump towers above me,

  his knobby nose on great display.

  “Do not tell me

  you’ve not been warned

  of the dangers outside.”

  I drop my chin to my chest.

  “Mr. Bailie!”

  Old Lump-and-Bump looks about.

  Outside the village,

  two hands cling to the embankment,

  a sunburned face appears.

  George.

  He was the one

  out there.

  He jumps over the wall.

  “I saw Alis,”

  he’s out of breath,

  “while I was hunting.”

  When did he notice me—

  before or after I left Kimi?

  “Let’s see what your father thinks,”

  Old Lump-and-Bump says.

  Alis

  He marches me to the ironmonger shed,

  where Father’s hammer bangs.

  George follows behind.

  Alis

  Inside

  there is darkness and fire,

  Father’s shape beside the flames.

  “Roger, what is this?”

  He wipes his hands

  on a cloth tucked at his waist.

  Only when he is near us

  can I see his grim expression.

  Old Lump-and-Bump shoves me forward.

  “I caught your daughter scrambling over the wall.”

  Everyone

  so close,

  the air bears the odor

  of sweat-soured clothing.

  Father’s eyes hold mine,

  daring me to glance away.

  My teeth clamp down.

  I will say naught.

  “Alis betrayed us,” George says.

  I lean against the wall,

  Father frowns.

  “What do you mean?”

  will my heart to calm.

  “Ask her what she was doing

  in the forest just now.”

  Alis

  “Alis?”

  All eyes are with me.

  “What is this George says?”

  “I do not know.”

  “Speak of the girl,”

  George’s lips are hardly moving,

  “or I will do it for you.”

  “Girl? Alis is the only one

  amongst us,” Father says.

  George lunges toward me.

  There’s hatred in his eyes.

  “Tell your father!”

  I press my fingers

  to my face.

  I thought George was my friend.

  “A Roanoke girl,” I say.

  Alis

  “An Indian?”

  Father’s expression says

  I’m not his daughter,

  but a stranger.

  For an eternity

  he looks from George to me.

  “You’ve threatened our safety.”

  “Father, no!”

  He whips me around,

  forces me to keep in step

  as he pulls me from the shed.

  “I’ve brought us no harm!

  She’s just a girl,

  like me.”

  Alis

  George saw us together.

  Did he hurt her after I’d gone?

  Outside our doorway Father stops,

  twists my arm until it pinches.

  Anger’s etched upon his ruddy face.

  But it’s the way Father’s mouth turns down

  that says fear’s what truly plagues him.

  “Alis?”

  Miss Lawrence opens the door,

  Samuel in her arms.

  He wails,

  waves his tiny fists.

  “What story did she tell you?

  Surely not the truth,

  that she went to meet an Indian.”

  Pricks of crimson flood

  Miss Lawrence’s cheeks.

  She fumbles for the door.

  Father slams it shut behind her,

  and now Virginia’s crying.

  “How dare you,” he says,

  each

  word

  ablaze.

  “You said yourself how lonely

  it must be as the only girl.

  And Kimi—”

  “Enough!”

  I fight to catch my breath,

  swallow the sob rising within me.

  Kimi.

  Father.

  There’s not one thing

  I haven’t damaged

  today.

  KIMI

  I do not know what I will say

  to explain my missing pearls.

  Without them, I should feel naked,

  like a child who still plays

  at her mother’s feet.

  Before the sickness,

  Alawa and I

  had dreamed of the tattooing,

  copper dancing at our earlobes,

  the blessings given to those

  leaving childhood.

  What pride we imagined

  in passing through the ceremony.

  I never called out

  in pain when the ink

  marked me

  as separate from the little ones,

  pointed to my life ahead.

  Yet never have I felt

  more brave than now.

  Alawa,

  though you never lived to see,

  you must understand:

  Today

  I left my younger self

  behind.

  I have given my pearls away,

  sacrificed my montoac,

  removed my own protection

  to cover my friend.

  KIMI

  I make no effort to hide

  how bare I am.

  Mother rushes to me,

  pulls at my hands,

  only to find them empty.

  I will not lie,

  but I will not bring

  Alis danger.

  “Your pearls?”

 
“Gone,” I say.

  Though my voice quakes,

  there is no shame,

  no apology,

  no sorrow.

  What I’ve done

  is best for Alis.

  I glide past my aunts and mother,

  am first to begin the evening meal.

  KIMI

  Their whispered words—

  How careless, they say.

  My aunts’ open stares.

  I will endure them,

  do my work.

  Even as the young ones

  swarm about with questions,

  I will not say a word.

  Alis

  Later,

  Father grips my shoulders,

  his hands blackened from labor.

  “I’ve told the assistants

  of your foolishness.

  Soon everyone will learn

  my daughter,

  whose own uncle

  faced a Roanoke attack,

  the very one who cares for Ananias Dare’s child,

  placed us in danger

  by befriending our enemy.

  It won’t surprise me in the least

  if Mrs. Dare holds you responsible

  for her husband’s death.”

  My heart is

  tender as a bruise.

  “How could you do this?” he whispers.

  Does he truly want an answer?

  That she has eased my heartache,

  shown me things I’ve never known,

  these reasons aren’t enough for him,

  they wouldn’t satisfy.

  “Do not leave this house again.

  Not to fetch Virginia,

  not to wander in the village.

  You stay inside.”

  I nod my head,

  pinch my lips together.

  I will let him see

  the pain this causes me.

  Alis

  From the window,

  a blue bird flits

  from roof to bench to branch.

  The pearls are heavy at my neck,

  tucked beneath my clothing.

  Father can keep me locked away,

  but he can’t force me to forget

  the new world opened to me.

  Alis

  Ia-chá-wan-es,

  Kimi’s word echoes

  the pulse in my fingers,

  the bird’s beating wings.

  Ia-chá-wan-es,

  I whisper to Samuel,

 

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