by Trish Mercer
It was the 57th Day of Weeding Season, the evening before the marking party was to leave.
It was also its annual flurry of activity with every visiting child, spouse, and grandchild staying at the two houses at the end of the lane, and the third down the road.
That also meant it was time for Jaytsy’s yearly, ‘We’ll never get everything ready in time,’ panic. It arrived on schedule, as she was setting out all the food on her long table to make sure nothing was forgotten for thirty men and boys. It was the constant interruptions that often had nothing to do with her task that triggered the panic.
“No, Briter—if your Uncle Cephas doesn’t want you sleeping with him tonight, I’m not about to force him. What’s wrong with sleeping at your house? Banu, why is the goat back in the house? No, she’s not lonely! Sewzi, get that kitten out of your niece’s mouth. Why it hasn’t clawed her yet, I’ll never understand. Yes, Young Shem, you get to eat this, but only on the trip. Get your hands off of it! Dinner’s at Muggah’s and Aunt Lilla’s tonight. Wait a minute, you’re not one of mine. Hogal, I do not need extra bodies around me right now. You’ll see what your meals will be when you get there. Now take your nephew and come back tomorrow morning. And take those sleeping packs with you! Salema and Jori are making the breads at Calla’s right? No, sweety, I’m not talking to you. I’m just talking to myself again. Now who took the dried peaches? I know I had dried peaches. It was that goat, wasn’t it? DECKETT!”
“Remember,” he said, whispering in her ear from behind and putting the bag of dried peaches in front of her, having taken it gently out of her hands, “five whole days with no men around. None at all. From the biggest to the smallest, we’ll all be in the mountains.”
Jaytsy sighed, as he wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you. I needed that reminder. Now, tell me again why I told Lilla I’d be in charge of getting the food ready this year.”
Deck laughed. “I really don’t know why you volunteered for this job! But it looks like you have enough to feed our army. Remember, we’ll be fishing along the way. No one will starve. Perrin still thinks we’re going to get in some hunting, too, but he also forgets how much Barnos and Bubba like to have hollering contests in the canyons.”
Jaytsy leaned against her husband. “And whenever our Cambo starts the grandsons with Trovato blood singing, that’s the end.”
“I think he does that just to watch Perrin cringe. Cambo told Cephas he learned some new songs that should really get Puggah groaning. One of them has to do with prancing, dancing deer.”
Jaytsy laughed. “Now I almost want to go!”
“Oh? Because if you really wanted to—”
“No, I don’t.” Jaytsy turned to face her husband. “The impulse died just as quickly as it rose when I thought about sleeping on the hard ground. I’ll be much happier in our soft bed. But thanks for the offer. I guess you’re going to miss me?” She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Definitely,” he said. “I really hate cooking in the wilderness. Even your attempts are better than mine or Peto’s.”
Insulted, she smacked her husband gently on the arm.
Deck chuckled and gave her an apologetic kiss.
His grandson groaned. “Grandpa Deck, eww!” Briter Zenos rolled his eyes. “I’m going back to Grandma Calla’s.”
“Tell her dinner’s almost ready at Muggah’s, all right?” Jaytsy called after him as he pushed open the side door to get away from their mushiness.
“You really think you’re going to be all right?” Jaytsy fretted, watching their oldest grandson trot off. “You have so many little ones this year.”
“It won’t be that bad,” Deck said, trying to sound optimistic. “Besides, that’s part of the purpose: to see how the children—and their parents—can handle the paths. If a path’s too hard, we cut an easier one.”
Jaytsy was dubious. “You’ve got Lek and Salema’s two boys, Boskos’s almost three-year-old, Lori’s three-year-old, Jori’s two-and-a-half-year-old, and Relf’s toddler. He’s only a year-and-a-half. I still think that’s insane—”
“But Peto’s insisting. We should see what it’s like with one in changing cloths.”
“Then there’s also Cambo’s three-year-old,” Jaytsy continued. “Good thing Bubba had twin daughters or he’d be wanting to take them along this year, too. At least this way he can help with Lek and Salema’s boys. Makes our Young Shem seem old at seven.”
“Don’t worry. It will be great fun, I’m sure,” Deck said. “We have plenty of older boys who can help with the younger ones.”
Jaytsy shrugged. “Just make sure you and Peto assign each little one to be watched by a bigger one, all right?”
“We always do. It’s Perrin and Shem we need to keep an eye on. Sometimes they get so involved in talking, the next thing you know they’re half a mile ahead of us. Peto was thinking of assigning Young Pere to Perrin. He’s still a bit slow and might be able to keep your father’s pace manageable for the little ones.”
“You really think that will be a problem this year? I thought Father was slowing down himself,” Jaytsy confessed, worried. “When he brought Young Pere home, I thought he looked a little pale from the walk.”
Deck scoffed at that. “Have you picked up Young Pere lately? He’s as big as your father! I would’ve been looking a little pale myself. He’ll be fine, Jayts. He promised Mahrree he’d take that walking stick Shem’s father made him years ago. I think he plans to hit the slow pokes with it.”
“If you say so. It’s just that for some reason, I’m worried about this trip,” she admitted. It’d been nagging at her for the past few days. “Of course, I worry every time, I know. And I also know nothing really bad ever happens—”
“Only to Young Pere,” Deck said soberly, but a smirk was around his eyes. “But he promised he wouldn’t climb any trees this year or chase any porcupines. Or skunks. Or badgers.”
Jaytsy tried to smile and ignore her persistent apprehension. “And you have Shem with you. And Boskos promised Calla he’d bring the bigger doctor’s bag. It’s just . . . oh, I don’t know—”
Deck held his wife’s face. “It’ll be all right, Jayts. We’ll be careful, we’ll watch out for every little boy, and we’ll all return home again to see how all the women fared without the men for five glorious days. Women’s week? Greatest week of the year, I hear?”
Jaytsy chuckled. “Yes, we have plenty of projects to keep us busy. Since Hycy’s getting married soon, Mother should be doling out her wisdom on how to have a happy marriage.” Jaytsy raised her eyebrows in suggestion, and Deck blinked in surprise. “It’s always great entertainment, if you know what I mean. I love how she seems to forget about the many standoffs they had when Peto and I were young. Of course, I then remind everyone that once she was sure her husband was going to kill her, so in front of his officers and her children, she called him the nastiest name in the world, accusing him of being the son of a female pig.”
Deck laughed. “Oh, I certainly remember that night of his resignation, and I’m sure she appreciates you bringing that up!”
Jaytsy giggled. “That’s when she pulls out her well-practiced glare and reminds me we don’t talk about the world unless it’s on the anniversary.
“You know,” she added, suddenly remembering, “it wasn’t until I was older that it occurred to me they probably squabbled just to make up later. I know they argued upstairs, but I think they purposely picked fights with each other to do so.”
Deck frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, yes. When they started shouting, Father would develop this glint in his eye that I didn’t fully understand until I married you.”
“A glint?” Deck asked, and more understanding came to him, enough to make him cringe. “Ugh, I didn’t need to hear any of this about your parents—”
Jaytsy laughed. “Lilla, Calla, and I will just have to make sure the younger girls are in bed before Mother gets too detailed. Poor Barnos’s bride went so red last year
when Mother started on her, ‘How to keep your man completely satisfied’ lecture.”
Deck’s eyebrows went up. “Now I’ve heard a lot of Mahrree Shin lectures over the years, but I don’t think I’ve heard that one. Maybe I’ll stay behind and listen in. Could be enlightening.”
Jaytsy winced. “I know you dislike leaving the herd every year, but do you really want to hear your mother-in-law talking about that?”
Deck winced back. “You’re right. Never mind. Besides, I’ll be hearing Perrin’s, ‘Taking care of your wives’ speech on the trail at some point, anyway. With Hycy’s fiancé agreeing to go, Peto and I better give him a warning about Perrin taking him into the woods for one of his private conversations. Although I’m pretty sure Lek or Con or Sam have said something to him already.” Deck looked into his wife’s eyes. “You’re still worried, aren’t you?”
She nodded miserably.
“We’re in the Creator’s hands. We pray for guidance every morning and night. Whatever happens will be His will. You can’t stop His will, Jaytsy Briter. Everything is up to Him, right?”
“Yes,” Jaytsy sighed.
Deck chuckled. “Well, that was a pitiful display of faith! Yes,” he mimicked. “I’ll keep an extra sharp eye out, all right?” he said pulling her in for a hug.
Jaytsy nodded.
The side door flew open. “So this is why you aren’t over for dinner yet? Hugging in your eating room? We’ll never leave on time in the morning at this rate!”
Jaytsy rolled her eyes at her father. “Everything will be ready, General. My goodness, can’t a woman get in a goodbye hug?”
“Of course you can,” and Perrin held out his arms.
Jaytsy and Deck laughed.
“I didn’t mean you!” Jaytsy said. But she released her husband and went to hug her father instead. He pulled away after a moment, but Jaytsy kept her grip on him. “Make sure everyone comes home safely, all right Father?”
Perrin stepped back, held her shoulders, and looked at her critically. “When have I ever failed you?”
“Never,” she admitted. “It’s just that I feel nervous about this trip.”
“You do this every year, you realize that? ‘I’m worried about the little boys.’ We’ve never lost one yet—not even Young Pere—and I’m not planning to lose one this year either. Satisfied?”
Jaytsy exhaled and hugged him again. “Of course.”
“Good,” Perrin said, “because I’m hungry and I want everyone over at our place in five minutes. We need to eat and discuss tomorrow’s plans. Deck, blow the gathering horn. No time to waste!”
“Yes, sir!” Deck said, saluting sloppily, and headed out the side door.
Perrin scowled at the salute. “I’ll get your brood over there, Jaytsy. Really, there’s enough food here,” he said, eyeing the table. “We’ve only got four pack horses after all. Come on!”
Perrin walked through the house to the opposite door, bellowing down the hall and pounding on doors. “Dinner! Now! Move it, Briters! Hey, you’re a Shin. Why are you hiding over here? Your mother’s looking for you, Hogal. You didn’t do your chore. Dinner! Now! Move it!”
Jaytsy rubbed her forehead. “Five days . . . no men . . .”
She jumped when she heard the gathering horn blow loudly, calling for the three Zenos families down the road and any other Briter or Shin family members in the garden, orchard, barn, or fields to come in for dinner.
Jaytsy rubbed her temples some more to ease the throbbing worry.
Another loud pound on a door came from the end of the hall. “Dinner, Tabbit! Now! I hear you reading in there. Finish it later. Don’t giggle at me through the door, young lady. Move it! Jayts, are you ever coming?”
Jaytsy sighed. “Yes, Father!” she called. At the end of the bedroom wing, she heard him whistling his annoying ‘I’m still waiting on you,’ tune.
“Five days, no men . . .” she chuckled to herself. “Five days . . .”
---
Mahrree did a head count as Perrin stood in front of their family seated on blankets behind the Shin house. Dinner was finished and it was time for last minute instructions.
“Everyone’s back now, Perrin,” Mahrree told him.
“Finally?” he asked.
“Yes! Now do your talking, quick, before someone else needs to relieve themselves.”
One of Bubba’s twins squirmed and raised her hand.
“Please no, Raishel,” Perrin pleaded with the two-year-old. “Just hold it, all right?”
“Then talk fast, Puggah,” she said soberly.
The rest of the family cheered and a few cried out, “Hear, hear!”
Perrin clapped his hands loudly. “Everyone remember their assignments for the morning? Who’s hitching up the Zenos wagon?”
Lek’s and Zaddick’s hands went up.
Perrin nodded. “The Briter wagon?”
Viddrow’s and Cephas’s hands went up.
“The Shin wagon?” The hand of Sam Cadby, Lori’s husband, went up, along with Young Pere’s.
Perrin gave Young Pere a searching look, trying to see if he was up to it.
He sent a challenging look back.
Perrin moved on. “Who’s preparing the pack horses?”
Up went the hands of Holling and Bubba Briter, as well as Con Cadby, Jori’s husband, and Relf Shin.
“Loading the food?”
Jaytsy and Deck’s hands rose.
“Loading the bedrolls and supplies?”
Lilla and Peto’s hands went up.
“Keeping the smallest children out of the way while everyone works?”
Mahrree and Calla raised their hands.
“Hugging and kissing everyone too many times so we leave half an hour late again?”
The hands of every wife went up, to collective laughter.
“And who’s responsible for making sure our stop at the Trovatos’ house in Norden takes only 15 minutes?”
Shem’s hand went up. “I’ll do my best, Perrin.”
Perrin pointed at him. “Do better than that, Shem. We only need three grandsons to go with us to the trailhead, then they bring back our wagons to their barns. We don’t need to give an update about every person, and we certainly don’t need any tag-a-longs.”
Insulted, Lilla put her hands on her hips. “Still bitter about that, Papa Pere? It’s been what, twenty-four years?”
Perrin winked at her as the family laughed. “And Shem,” he said turning to him. “I’m taking only one hug from her. I know that she’s your mother-in-law, but one hug is enough. It’s amazing how strong she is for an old lady.”
Mahrree elbowed her husband. “Perrin, she’s seventy-three, only a year older than me.”
Perrin blinked at her in surprise. “Well . . . you’re not old. You’re Mahrree,” he finished lamely. “Now,” he said, addressing his laughing family. “Do all the visiting family members know where they’re sleeping tonight?”
Several heads of grandchildren, their spouses, and their children nodded.
Lori sighed loudly to get her grandfather’s attention. “Yes, Puggah. I promise you will not find Ensio in your bed again.” She cuddled her three-year-old.
“Good,” said Perrin. “Because he felt a little damp last night when I picked him up to bring him to you.”
“He’d just been bathed, that’s all!”
“I’m sleeping with Grandpa Peto tonight,” Ensio announced.
“Whoa!” Peto said. “Who decided this?”
Lilla raised her hand.
“Sounds like a good plan, Ensio,” Perrin nodded at him. He then turned, folded his arms, and sent a stern look to Wes Hifadhi who was cuddling his fiancé, Hycy Shin.
Wes swallowed hard.
Perrin’s look communicated clearly that while Jothan may have been able to beat Perrin in nearly every wrestling match they had, Perrin still had a few moves left for Wes, who was built solidly as all Hifadhis were, but was merely
a fraction of the size of his massive paternal great-grandfather.
It wasn’t that Perrin didn’t approve of Wes. Far from it. A year ago, at an outdoor music festival when Perrin first noticed Wes eyeing Hycy fondly, and Hycy smiling shyly back, he’d starting plotting ways to get them interested in each other, should they not be able to figure it out on their own. To have his family join with the Hifadhi family seemed like an overdue pleasure. Perrin had sidled over to Jothan faster than Hycy had bashfully made her way over to Wes, and elbowed the boy’s great-grandfather.
“What do you think?” he asked, and only later realized to his chagrin that their evaluations sounded more like horse studding. Wes was awkwardly shaking Hycy’s hand, as if having just introduced himself as a new apprentice, and Hycy was giggling ridiculously.
Jothan had chuckled in his low, sonorous way—too far away for them to hear him—as he and Perrin watched the two first-year college students try to start a conversation. “I think they’d produce a terrifying, massive son, or a terrifying, sharp-tongued daughter. In any case, I’d pay all the gold slips in the world to see that.”
The grandfathers laughed and spied on the pair as effectively as only two men practiced in spying could. In the end, or actually, quite near the beginning, their meddling assistance wasn’t needed, because Hycy and Wes certainly figured out courting all by themselves. The wedding would be at the beginning of Harvest Season.
Still, this was his granddaughter, and a grandfather needed to protect his girls. His focused glare communicated that quite effectively.
Peto gave Wes a nod. “We’ve got it figured out, Father.”
“Uh, yes, sir,” said Wes nervously, shifting his gaze between Peto and Perrin. “I’m staying at Guide Zenos’s home tonight.”
Perrin continued his glare.
Wes withered, his dark skin draining of color, and pulled his arm off from around Hycy. She pouted at her grandfather.
Sam Cadby leaned over to Wes and whispered something in his ear.
“And . . . I’m going the moment we’re done with family prayer? Sir?”
Perrin nodded his approval.
Wes wiped his forehead at passing the test, and Sam patted him on the back.
Perrin clapped his hands again. “Any other questions? We leave at dawn, by the way. Mahrree and Calla both have lists of those who are coming by each day to take care of the men’s chores while we’re gone. No questions? Well then, we need to end with a prayer. Since the Zenos family is joining us tonight, and considering the purpose of our trip this week, Guide Zenos, would you please offer the prayer?”
Shem nodded and began to stand up, but then paused awkwardly in mid rising.
“Knees bothering you again?” Perrin smirked.
Shem shook his head. “Perrin, you need to offer the prayer.”
“I did it just the other night.”
But the penetrating look Shem gave him told him that didn’t matter. “Perrin, how often do you have your entire family gathered together?”
“About four times a year.”
“Then don’t miss these rare opportunities.”
Perrin cocked his head at Shem, then shrugged. “All right, Guide. Whatever you say.”
Later, as Shem and Calla walked home along the dark road arm in arm watching their children and grandchildren running ahead of them to the house, and making sure Wes Hifadhi was still among them, Calla rested her head on Shem’s shoulder.
“Shem, what was that all about, having Perrin say the prayer?”
Shem thought about it again, as he had been for the last little while. Perrin gave a typical grandfatherly prayer—expressing gratitude for their life in Salem, for his posterity, for the success of their crops and herds, for the opportunities to serve the Creator, and how much he loved his family. Sincere, loving, heartfelt. But nothing unusual or special.
He glanced behind him to see the shadow of Perrin at the pasture, talking to Clark, probably giving him the bad news that he wouldn’t be able to come on this year’s marking route, again.
“I don’t know, Calla. I just felt I couldn’t get up. Something was holding me back, and I clearly saw Perrin giving the prayer instead. Maybe someone needed to hear him tonight instead of me. I must admit, I was struck by the image of him standing there. For a moment he seemed to me the same as when I first met him as a thirty-year-old captain. How could we ever have imagined such a future for us? Just remarkable. I never cease to be amazed by the miracle. He just needed to stand before all of them tonight.”
---
Perrin was, indeed, breaking the news to Clark, and softening the blow with treats from his pockets.
“I was surprised to find them, too,” he told his favorite horse as he fished out of his trousers’ pockets the old apples. “A little shriveled, and from the bottom of the barrel in the cellar, but still good, right?”
Clark snuffed and curled his lips around the first wrinkled apple.
“About two more moons until the fresh ones are ready—not too much longer,” Perrin assured him as he rubbed his neck where white hairs were replacing the black ones. “We’re both getting old,” he chuckled sadly. “And, my friend, you’re too old to go with us this year. I’m leaving tomorrow for another marking party. This one is way up in Norden. You remember that trail, right? Did it at least half a dozen times together, didn’t we?”
He offered Clark the next apple.
“But, my friend, you’re thirty years old. It’s been a few years since we’ve been out marking together, but that’s all right. These younger horses need you around to keep them in line. Teach them what it means to be a true Clark Shin. By the way, do you still approve of Clark 314? He’s shaping up well, I think. This trip will test his worth, that’s for sure. At least he looks right—just like you at that age. Shin horses have to be black. GrayClark 411 was sturdy enough, but I think 14 is just a bit brighter, a bit more like you. Ah, what am I saying? No one’s like you.”
He offered the third apple.
“So you’ll be fine here while I’m gone. Kanthi and Tabbit take better care of you than I ever did anyway. You, uh, you’re all right with them braiding your mane, right? I mean, the effect was quite fetching the last time. Apparently they have a new braiding technique they want to try out on you while I’m gone. I swear those girls pamper you more than I ever did.” He chuckled.
Then he went silent, stroking his horse. “Kind of hard leaving you behind again. Each year I keep thinking it’ll get easier, but you and me—we blazed all those trails. Then you carried my grandsons on it. It’s not the same without you there, you know. I was expecting—”
He paused to gruffly clear his throat.
“I was expecting that you’d be up to going with me on the Last Day. I know, I know—silly of me. It’s probably still a lifetime away. We’ll all be long gone before it comes,” he said, not entirely believing that. “I just rather hoped it’d be like when we first came to Salem, with you carrying Mahrree and me. But look at your back bowing,” he sighed sadly. “Wouldn’t have been able to take both of us for the past ten years now, I’m sure. But,” he leaned into Clark, who listened intently, “if the Last Day comes, and we’re still both here, you’re coming with me. No loads on your back, I promise. Just walk with me and Mahrree. Clark 14 can take our weight, but we’re bringing you along. You deserve to be there, after all you’ve done, don’t you, boy?”
He pressed his head against Clark, even though he knew Mahrree hated to smell horse on his face. He’d planned on bathing before he’d go to bed, anyway.
Clark nuzzled him affectionately, and Perrin smiled. Clark always understood.
“Take care, old friend. I’ll see you in a few days.”
Chapter 7--“Rector Shin, how look the trees?”