The Winter Boy

by Sally Wiener Grotta

  “You know I am. I sent my things to the Battai’s early this morning.”

  “Good.” She held out her hand to help him up, then, realizing what she was doing, withdrew it.

  Dov stood, but instead of moving toward the doorway, went to the back of the barn. Reaching behind an old cupboard, he retrieved a package covered in blue linen, about the size of a large loaf of bread. “I made this for you.”

  When he placed it in her arms, it was heavier than she had expected. He removed the cloth, and Tayar was astonished to see that it was a sculpture of hands, his hands, held open in the traditional greeting due an Allesha.

  “I never did master that pottery wheel of Le’a’s, but the clay was fun to cast and mold.”

  “It’s beautiful.” The words snagged in her throat. “I’ll treasure it always.”

  Dov caressed the palms of his sculpted hands. “You know, at first, I wanted to put your hands in there, filling mine. But I couldn’t get them right. Every time I thought I understood how to model them, it didn’t work. Then something remarkable happened. The more I worked on this, the more I understood about the greeting gesture.” Taking one step back, he opened his hands in the pose represented in the clay. “I used to think it symbolized me being willing to open up to you, to let you fill me with whatever you were willing to give. And it’s that, too. But the other part is my responsibility, to hold your hands, to support you whenever you need it. And I will, Tayar, whenever you need me. Just send me word, and I’ll come. Not because of the Agreement, but because it will be you summoning me.” Tenderly, Dov cupped his hands around her face. “I want you to know one thing: if we lived in a better world, I would never leave you.”

  “Dov…”

  “I know. But let me say it this one time and never again. I love you, Tayar. Not because you’re my Allesha, but because I have come to know the woman you are. But this is the only world we have, and the only way to try to keep it from destroying itself is for me to leave. I understand that now, because loving you has made me understand so very much.” Leaning forward, he gently kissed her right cheek. “Thank you.” Then her left cheek. “Dear, sweet Tayar.” And then her lips, brushing them softly with his own.

  Not trusting herself to speak, Tayar turned and left the barn without looking back. She retreated into her bedroom, and placed the sculpture on a table where the early morning sun always shone, rearranging everything around it to make it the centerpiece. Then she placed her hands into Dov’s clay palms, closing her eyes to more fully feel the contours and comfort.

  The sculpture was devoid of the warmth and flexibility of his flesh, stripping the greeting gesture to its essentials — not only a symbol of her relationship with her Winter Boy, but also the space where she fit, as a woman who was also an Allesha. She washed her face, brushed her hair and composed herself, determined to not mar Dov’s last day in The Valley with inappropriate emotions.

  He awaited her in the greeting room. They embraced, hands on shoulders, bodies barely touching. Then he left. Watching from the front window seat, as he fell in step with other new Allemen headed toward the gathering, she didn’t allow herself to cry. She’d had enough of her self-pity. When he was no longer in view, she began to prepare for the ceremony.

  The Alleshi gathered in the Assembly Room to don their voluminous green ceremonial robes.

  The first time Jinet had seen so many Alleshi in their robes was at Eli’s End of Season ceremony, seated beside Jared, in an honored position as a parent and an Alleman wife, in the chairs aligned on the gravel in front of the Communal Hall. Her heart had fluttered when the Alleshi had flowed out onto the platform, accompanied by their new Allemen. There, before her eyes, was the embodiment of what she had fully believed was The Valley’s unity of purpose and the enduring sanctity of the Peace.

  At her own initiation, the procession had been reversed; all the Alleshi had enveloped Rishana as she had stepped up to the platform, pulling her with them into the Communal Hall. She had thought it had been a choice based on faith that had brought her to that moment. But she’d been wrong. The people she had trusted most had lied and manipulated her to bring her to the Alleshi, to her Winter Boy, to this uncertain future.

  Rishana had participated in various Alleshine ceremonies since her initiation, though always in the background, as a green-robed body helping fill the ranks. Today would be the first time she’d be a full active participant, and the first time her eyes would be completely open.

  Looking around the Assembly Room, she saw the individuals within the ceremonial anonymity of their robes. She also saw the gaps in the company where others should be. Caith. Beatrice. Devra. Elnor. Even Kiv. Fissures had formed. No, she corrected herself, they had always been there. The circles of loyalty didn’t always overlap, and rifts were now shaking apart the Alleshine Peace.

  Meika pushed through the crowd to make her way to Rishana. “I’ve had word from Eli.”

  Rishana caught herself before saying, “I know.” Instead, she clasped Meika’s hands and pleaded, “Tell me, please, is he safe?” How easily the pose settled on her.

  “He’s safe and well, and they’ve even stopped Kiv, at least for now.”

  Rishana embraced her son’s Allesha. “Thank you.”

  “Good news?” Dara asked.

  Rishana hadn’t realized that Dara and Peren had also made their way toward her.

  “Yes, news from Eli,” Meika replied.

  Peren’s forehead crinkled with her worry for her Alleman’s son. “Is he well?”

  “Yes, he’s well. I’ve a letter from him for the Council.”

  “What of Kiv?” Dara asked, allowing a trickle of her usual venom for the renegade Allesha to escape. Rishana had to admire the performance.

  “She escaped, but most of her Allemen have deserted her,” Meika said.

  “And the guns?” Peren asked.

  “Nearly useless. Our Allemen destroyed most of the ammunition she had stolen.”

  “Wonderful news, indeed.” It wasn’t the volume of Peren’s voice as much as her energy that caught the attention of other nearby Alleshi.

  “News?”

  “Meika, have you heard from Eli?”

  Soon Meika was surrounded, and Peren and Dara had navigated Rishana away from the throng. But before they could say anything to her, the signal came for them to begin the procession. Dara and Peren took their places behind Rishana, so close that she could feel their breath against her ears when they leaned forward to speak to her.

  “The North Battai has a worthy candidate for your Spring Boy,” Peren whispered.

  Rishana stared forward. “Not now.”

  Slowly, the front of the line began moving, while others formed up toward the back.

  “But this one is different,” Dara said. “A gentle, quiet boy who needs—”

  “I said no!”

  “Rishana, dear, you don’t understand,” Dara insisted. “Sometimes, we give ourselves tender Seasons.”

  Whipping around to face them, Rishana stated firmly, unequivocally, “I doubt I’ll be giving any Seasons to anyone, ever again. Now, leave me alone.” Saying it released something inside her, like a storm-flooded stream breaking out of a dam. But as Rishana moved forward, following the snaking line of green-robed Alleshi, knowing that to anyone looking on, she would appear the same as the others, Rishana couldn’t shake the picture in her mind of the two who walked behind her — how very old Dara and Peren suddenly seemed — and the look of hurt on their faces.

  In the large entry hall, the new Allemen created their own processional to walk beside their Alleshi — though apart. Rishana could hear the excitement erupt from the outside courtyard as the first Alleshi and Allemen appeared. On the large platform in front of the hall, the two lines diverged again. The Alleshi arranged themselves in eight rows of chairs to the right, with those who had just given a Season seated in front; their young Allemen sitting on the opposite side of the platform. A podium had been placed at t
he front edge to the far right.

  Hundreds were standing, cheering and applauding in the gravel courtyard where chairs had been placed, as well as from the surrounding lawns where numerous blankets were spread. In front were the Allemen who would be taking apprentices. The rest of the seats had been reserved for the Battais, other Allemen and their wives, some of whom were also parents, then other parents, and, in the back, caravan and village leaders. Somewhere in the crowd were a handful of representatives from beyond the Peace borders who had come to negotiate and trade.

  Every once in a while, Rishana distinguished a name being called out from the audience. Two of the new Alleman waved back from their seats on the platform. But most barely moved, keeping their hands in their laps. Everyone quickly quieted and settled down when Ayne came forward to stand at the podium.

  Ayne waited several moments, testing the uncertain silence of the large crowd, giving them a chance to focus on her and the solemnity of the ceremony. Though Rishana couldn’t see Ayne’s face, she knew from experience what a powerful presence the older woman projected, even when all she was doing was allowing her gaze to drift over her audience.

  “Welcome to our Valley and our Winter’s End ceremony. Before you are the newest of our Allemen, sworn to uphold our Peace and protect your well-being.”

  Rishana found herself unable to concentrate on Ayne’s words. But then, she wasn’t trying very hard. She knew whatever the old woman said would include nothing of the truths, hardships and intrigues of the past Season — or the looming catastrophes. This was a time to reaffirm the bonds of the Peace and reassure their people that everything was as it should be.

  Directly across from her, Ryl was far from the largest of the young Allemen, but he sat tall, with squared shoulders, fully aware of everything around him. Watching him observe the assembled representatives from both sides of their borders, Rishana realized he was already making plans and testing out new scenarios, considering the mission ahead of him. Soon, he would be on the western border, seeking the Mwertik, his people. Perhaps nothing he tried would divert the coming chaos. Perhaps he would be killed. All she could do now was sit in this Valley and await his reports, hoping against hope for his safe return.

  Or, maybe, it was time for her to leave, too. She ached to go home, to the warm, happy farmhouse she had shared with Jared, Svana and Eli, filled once more with children, her grandchildren. It could be a good life. Couldn’t it?

  Thankfully, Ayne kept her remarks brief. With more than a hundred new Allemen to acknowledge, the ceremony would be long enough. Ayne arranged the papers on the podium, put on her spectacles and announced the first Triad. “Garin of the Mukane, Lewen of the Verterrali and Kerix of the Grevatine.”

  Certainly, the young Allemen had already guessed who their Triats would be, but this was the first time it would be confirmed publicly. The three shook hands as they walked across the platform to stand before their Alleshi. Whispering final words of gratitude, encouragement and farewell, the couples faced each other while each Allesha draped a chain and medallion around her Alleman’s neck.

  Rishana fingered Ryl’s gold medallion in her pocket, the familiar ridges of the hands and flower. She remembered returning Jared’s to Peren — no, she corrected herself, to Savah — on her widow’s pilgrimage to tell her husband’s Allesha of his murder. No Allesha should outlive her Alleman. It wasn’t natural. Please, she fervently prayed, don’t let it happen to me, to Dov.

  The three Alleshi walked side by side with their young Allemen to the front of the platform where a Triad waited to take charge of their new apprentices. Returning to their places among their sisters, the three Alleshi watched, one with tears in her eyes, as the six Allemen walked away from the Communal Hall through the cheering crowd, headed for a Battai inn before they left The Valley.

  So it continued, Triad by Triad. Rishana found her mind wandering from the repetitive ceremony, thinking instead of Dov, Eli and Jared, the Allemen of her life. Each a lie of one sort or another. Each a joy. And, in the end, each a heart-rending loss. But the only way she could have avoided the pain of losing them was never to have loved them. How like Alleen’s desert, with its shadows and light, the one giving shape and form to the other. Sadness wasn’t the opposite of laughter; silence was — the emptiness where human conversation and touch should be, as in Alleen’s caves.

  “Aidan of the Nigan, Ryl of the Birani and Sim of the Emet,” Ayne announced, jolting Rishana back to the here and now. But as Ryl shook hands with his new Triats and began to walk toward her, Rishana realized that her thoughts had been leading to this point all along.

  Ryl stood before Rishana as her Alleman, and she was devoid of words, because she had too much to say, because it had all been said. They faced each other, trying to capture one last moment of connection, knowing it was already gone. Ryl bent his head and Rishana placed the chain around his neck. Taking the medallion in his hand, he looked at it with wonder and a bit of surprise that it was, indeed, his. He smiled and silently mouthed, “Thank you.”

  Rishana walked by Ryl’s side, joined by Aidan, Sim and their Alleshi, to bring them to Mistral and Tedrac, her husband’s broken Triad — to the space where Jared should have been. Then she returned to her seat, no longer noticed by the crowd that cheered her new Alleman and his Triats.

  Craning her neck, she tried to glimpse Ryl, but the standing, cheering audience blocked her view. She could judge their progress only by the movement of those who turned to watch them. Soon, however, everyone was seated once more, their attention focused on Ayne, who was announcing the next new Triad.

  Rishana felt a light touch on her shoulder and Peren’s breath on her ear. “Rishana…”

  She shook her head, not wanting to respond, to be aware of anyone or anything else. Not yet.

  Ryl and his companions turned onto the gravel path toward the West Battai’s inn. As they were about to disappear around a bend, he looked back briefly. Knowing she would be watching, he waved. Then he was gone.

  Rishana felt her breath leave her body. She was weightless, unrooted.

  “Rishana,” Peren said once more, her voice soft with worry and regret.

  Dara’s hand rested on her other shoulder, but the older woman said nothing. What surprised Rishana was that it wasn’t so much a pressure as a presence, a connection.

  With her eyes still on the bend in the path, Rishana whispered, “Tell the North Battai I will meet the boy.”

  “Good.” Dara squeezed her shoulder before letting go and settling back.

  “You won’t be sorry,” Peren said.

  Rishana continued to focus on the path leading away from The Valley, on the empty space where Ryl had been. “Yes, I will,” she said. Shadows and light might shape her life, but the only certainties she would be able to depend on would be the pain and the joy ahead.

  THE END

  Addenda

  Please support this author by reviewing The Winter Boy on your favorite book website(s), and by telling your friends about the book. Thank you.

  The Winter Boy Study Guide

  A free The Winter Boy study guide is available for book clubs, teachers, librarians and other discussion group leaders, from the Pixel Hall Press website.

  About Sally Wiener Grotta

  Sally Wiener Grotta is the consummate storyteller, reflecting her deep humanism and sense of the poignancy of life. As an award-winning journalist, she has authored many hundreds of articles, columns and reviews for scores of glossy magazines, newspapers, journals and online publications, plus numerous non-fiction books. Her fiction includes the novel Jo Joe which was published by Pixel Hall Press in 2013 to critical acclaim.

  She is currently working on Sex Witch, the next Alleshine novel, about the Mwertik, Jinet/Rishana, Dov/Ryl, Lilla and Kiv.

  Sally Wiener Grotta is a frequent speaker at conferences, schools and other organizations on storytelling, creativity, photography, and the publishing industry. She welcomes invitations to participate
in discussions with book clubs and other reading groups (via Skype, Google Hangout, online chat, phone or occasionally in person). She is sometimes available to do readings. You can also connect with her on Facebook (Facebook.com/SallyWienerGrotta), Twitter (@SallyWGrotta), and her website (Grotta.net).

  Acknowledgements

  My heartfelt gratitude goes to the many people who helped me over the years as I created the world of the Alleshi, Allemen, Mwertik, et al. Most notably, thanks once again to Cynthia Dadson of Pixel Hall Press. Also, I send my appreciation to Molly Glick of Foundry Literary Agency for her excellent editing and faith in The Winter Boy. Chelsea Lowe was a thorough and creatively challenging copyeditor. The Nameless Workshop was a great sounding board, even when (especially when) we disagreed. Barbara Krasnoff gave me invaluable feedback and comments on the next-to-final manuscript. Pixel Hall Press’s ever-vigilant Beta Readers — Sandra Ulbrich Almazan, Robin Baum, Gail Gabrielson, Chip Hitchcock — were great at finding typos and other details that I and my editors might have otherwise overlooked. Hugs to Norma Krasne-Levine for her friendship and invaluable precision. As always, Daniel Grotta and Noel J. Wiener helped me with much-needed brainstorming, suggestions, morale boosting and unstinting edits. Of course, any errors in judgment or otherwise are mine alone.

  Sally Wiener Grotta

  About Pixel Hall Press

  Pixel Hall Press (PixelHallPress.com) is a relatively new, old-fashioned small publishing house that focuses on discovering literary gems and great stories that might have otherwise been overlooked. Our mission is to publish books that energize the imagination and intrigue the mind, and to be a conduit between readers and provocative, stimulating, talented authors.

  Please go to the For Readers & Book Clubs section of the Pixel Hall Press website, to find out about various programs we offer readers, including free Study Guides for book discussion leaders, our Beta Reader program which offers access to free pre-publication eBooks, and the Author Connect Program which includes helping to set up book discussions with our authors for reading groups. We also offer volume discounts on books for discussion groups and classrooms.