The Good Hawk

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The Good Hawk Page 4

by Joseph Elliott


  I go back to the table and look at the seeds again. Some of them are a bit different. I pick up a few of them and feed them to Milkwort, who is in my pocket. He likes them. It makes me feel better because Milkwort is happy and now there are less seeds to sort too. Maistreas Eilionoir can’t find out that he is here. She thinks I got rid of him but I didn’t.

  I am in the bothan all day and Maistreas Eilionoir does not come back until it is nearly dark. Some of the seeds are in piles I have sorted, even though I still think it is stupid and not important. Maistreas Eilionoir nods at the seeds and I think she is happy, but then she wipes her hand across the table and all the seeds fall on the floor. I jump to my feet.

  “What did you do that for?” I shout.

  “Remember who you are talking to,” she says and her voice is calm.

  “I spent all day doing that and now — now you’ve — ruined it.” I grab the edge of the table and turn it over. I don’t care if it breaks. I pick up the chair like I might throw it.

  Maistreas Eilionoir holds up one finger and shakes her head a bit. I stare at her and she stares at me. My breathing is all fast and loud. I put the chair down.

  “Good. We will not get anywhere until you learn to control your temper,” Maistreas Eilionoir says. “When the anger comes, you must learn to let it fade. Pick up all the seeds and then go. We are done for today.”

  Even though I want to scream at her, I do what she says. The seeds are small and hard to pick up so it takes a long time to do it. When Maistreas Eilionoir is not looking, I put more seeds in my pocket to feed Milkwort later. That will teach her for being so mean.

  THE NEXT DAY MAISTREAS EILIONOIR STILL FROWNS AT me, even though I am there on time. She takes the jar and pours the seeds out again. I have to spend all day sorting them again which is even more boring and even more stupid. And the worse thing, before I can finish she comes back in and messes them all up again.

  “Why do you keep — doing that?” I shout. I want to hit her I am so angry.

  “Let the anger fade,” Maistreas Eilionoir says.

  “No,” I say, because it is her fault and she shouldn’t do what she did.

  “Breathe in,” she says, “as deep as you can. When you breathe out, let the anger out with it.”

  “I don’t want to,” I say. I won’t do it. It is a stupid thing to do.

  “I’m trying to help you, Agatha,” she says.

  “No, you’re not. You’re being mean and it’s not fair. Why do you — why do I have to sort your st-stupid — seeds anyway?”

  “Some things we must do simply because we are told to do them, even though they may seem meaningless or unfair. How can I be expected to hone your talent before you have demonstrated self-restraint?”

  I am so cross that it takes a while to hear what she has said.

  “What t-talent?” I ask. I breathe out from my nose.

  “We will discuss it once you prove to me that you are ready. Now clear up this mess and leave. It’s been a long day and I have no desire for company.”

  I do not want to put the seeds back in the jar but I do it. Some of them I stamp on when Maistreas Eilionoir is not looking. Then I leave and I do not even say goodbye.

  I’m late for evening meal so I walk quickly to the Gathering. Two days ago, Maighstir Clyde caught me sitting at the Hawk table and made me move. Now I have to sit at the table with the children. I hate it there because I am not a child.

  Tonight some of the children have all colors on their fingers. They have been painting flags for the Ceremony because I saw them. The enclave looks pretty with the flags flapping. You’re supposed to wash your hands before you eat and I know that and they should know it too.

  When I am finished, I stand up and I bump into a boy called Wiley because I didn’t see he was there.

  “Look where you’re going, you fat retarch,” he says.

  His friends all laugh.

  “I’m not,” I say.

  Wiley sticks his tongue between his teeth and says “I’m not” which is pretending to be me. His friends laugh again. I want to hit them all for laughing because it is mean but I don’t because I think maybe they will hurt me back. To stop from doing it I run to my bothan. It is one of the Hawk bothans where I still am. They’d better not make me move because I won’t.

  There’s no one there when I get inside. What the boy said is still in my head. It makes me nearly cry but of course I don’t. I go to the wash corner and pick up the mirror piece. I’m not supposed to look at myself but when no one is around I do it because I’m pretty. My hair is long and dark like seaweed. I pick up the brush and I brush it. I like my hair because it makes me look so pretty.

  After I have brushed it, I hold the mirror away from me to see if I am fat. I do look bigger than before, and not because I am older because I am still not tall which I know because I measure on the door to see if I’ve grown. I press my arms and stomach and also my cheeks and my breasts. I smile at the mirror. It’s okay, I’m still pretty. I wonder if Jaime thinks I’m pretty too. Jaime is so kind. That is why I like him. But soon he has to do the Ceremony which is to marry the girl from the Raasay Island. I don’t know why he has to do it. It is bad to be married. After it has happened no one will like him anymore and I won’t like him either. Unless I can stop it from happening. That is a clever plan. I will do that for Jaime and then he will be so happy and we will be friends.

  The door to the bothan opens and Flora and some of the other Hawks come in. I put the mirror down and give Flora a hug because she is my friend. I ask about what happened on the wall and they tell me.

  “Do you want to play riosg with us?” asks Flora, and I say yes because I do. It is a game with the stones and it is so much fun and I laugh. One time I even win it and when I do Flora says, “Hey, Aggie, you’re getting good,” which is kind and also true.

  WHEN I GO BACK TO MAISTREAS EILIONOIR’S BOTHAN THE next morning I am not happy because I know she will make me sort the stupid seeds again and I know she will mess them up afterward. But I have to do it so they’ll let me be a Hawk again. Then I think that maybe she only messes them because I don’t finish doing it quick enough. Yes, that is it. Okay today I will be the quickest ever so she doesn’t do it.

  I work so hard for the whole day to finish all the seeds and I do it. They are in a long line like a snake back and forth on the table all done. When Maistreas Eilionoir comes in I think she will tell me well done and be happy but she doesn’t. She pushes the seeds on the floor again. All the work that I worked so hard to do it. I scream my loudest ever.

  “Agatha,” she says, but I do not stop screaming. I push the table and I kick it and it is sore on my foot and I kick it again. She says I have to do the breathing but I am not doing stupid breathing.

  Maistreas Eilionoir steps over the table and takes both of my hands and holds them. I stop screaming then because it is making my throat hurt. Maistreas Eilionoir is looking at me. The hot inside starts to go away.

  “Are you calm now?” she asks me.

  I nod.

  “Sometimes anger clouds our vision and leads us to poor choices,” she says. “Letting go of that anger gives us strength.”

  I don’t even know what that means.

  She is going to make me pick up all the seeds again I know it so I let go of her hands and do it. When I am finished she says, “Thank you. You may go now.”

  I walk toward the door and then I stop and turn. “What does a retarch mean?” I ask her.

  She looks at me and her face is hard. “Who used that word?” she asks.

  “A boy called me it. And Maighstir Clyde said it when I was hi-hiding in the chest.”

  “Maighstir Clyde was wrong to say such a thing. As was the boy. Tell me his name and I will see to it that he is punished.”

  “But what does it — mean?”

  Maistreas Eilionoir’s mouth is all together and she is thinking.

  “Sit next to me, child.”

  I am no
t a child, but I do not mind it when Maistreas Eilionoir calls me it because I know she says it to be nice and not to be mean. We sit on the floor and my legs are crossed like her legs are crossed.

  “It is a word to describe someone who is different, used by people who do not understand what it means to be different,” she tells me.

  “It is a b-bad word?” I ask.

  “The way it was said to you, yes.”

  “So why did they say it?”

  “Have you ever noticed ways in which you are not the same as other people in this clan, Agatha?”

  “I’m not very — fast at running,” I say.

  “That’s one difference, yes, but I’m thinking more about the way you look and the way you think. You’re fifteen now, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And do you think you are the same as the other fifteen-year-olds in the clan?”

  “I think my hair is pretty,” I tell her, because I don’t know what the question is.

  “It is, yes,” she says, and she strokes it a little bit. It is a nice thing that she says and it makes me smile.

  She does not say anything else, so I think our talking is finished, even though she still has not told me what a retarch means. I stand up and tell Maistreas Eilionoir good night. When I reach the door, she says, “Is the vole with you?” She says it in a whisper voice.

  I must have heard her wrong. Does she mean Milkwort? I am not supposed to have him.

  “What?” I say.

  “Don’t make me ask you again. If anyone overhears us, we’ll both be in a lot of trouble.”

  It is true. We will both be in bad trouble. Animals are for eating, not for keeping in your pocket, and definitely not for talking to. This must be a trap or a test. I need to have a plan but I don’t have a plan.

  “Put it on the table,” she orders me.

  “Put w-what on the table?” I ask. I think she wants to hurt him.

  “Don’t play fool, girl.”

  “I don’t have him anymore.” It is a lie but I have to say it.

  She looks at me and is not happy. “Do you really want to be sorting seeds for the rest of your life?”

  I don’t know what the seeds has to do with it. Maybe because I fed him some. I know I don’t want to do them anymore. I put my hand into the pocket where he is.

  “His name is M-Milkwort,” I say, and I lift him out. I keep him in my hands so he is safe to protect him.

  “What can he do?”

  “He likes to eat bread,” I say, because I can’t say what I shouldn’t say.

  “Do you talk to him?”

  “Um, maybe a little bit.”

  “And does he talk back to you?”

  I don’t know how to answer that.

  “You need to trust me, Agatha, and know that I am here to help you.”

  “But animals can’t talk,” I say.

  Maistreas Eilionoir looks at me like she thinks I’m lying.

  She walks over to the table where there is a mug of half-drunk tea. She pulls off a button from the top she’s wearing and places it at the opposite end of the table.

  “Tell him to pick up the button and put it in the tea.”

  “Why?” I ask. I don’t know why she wants her button in the tea.

  “Now is not the time for questions.”

  I put Milkwort on the table. It will be easy for him, but also I’m not sure if I should show it. I take a breath.

  “P-put the b-button in the tea, please, Milkwort.”

  As soon as I have said it, he runs to the button and picks it up in his claws. Then he puts it between his teeth and carries it to the mug. He has to climb up the side of the mug to reach. When his head is over the top, he drops the button in it.

  Maistreas Eilionoir’s eyes are wide. “Well, I never did,” she says.

  “Please don’t kill him,” I beg.

  “Of course I’m not going to kill him,” she says.

  “And don’t kill me either. I didn’t mean to do it.”

  “Be quiet. Keep this between the two of us, and no one is going to get hurt. I took a big risk on you, Agatha, but I’ve never once regretted it. And I have a feeling it’s about to pay off.”

  I have no idea what she is talking about.

  I WAKE UP WITH SUNLIGHT ON MY FACE, WHICH IS A RARITY, even at this time of year. I stretch underneath the extra blanket, enjoying its warmth. It is still early, and the only sound outside is the chirruping of a few songbirds.

  Then I remember. The heat of the sun turns stifling, and my head starts to spin. I throw off the blankets and cross to the vat to splash my face with cold water. Aileen sees that I’m awake and comes over to join me. Her eyes are bright, and her hair hangs in a graceful mess.

  “Good morning,” she says, slinging a lazy arm around my shoulders. “So, today’s the big day.”

  “It is indeed.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’ve felt better.”

  “You never know; maybe you’ll like her.”

  I don’t reply. Whether I like her or not is beside the point. She’s only nine. Five years younger than me. A child.

  “Listen,” she says, “if she turns out to be that annoying, we’ll just push her off the wall and be done with it, okay?”

  Despite my mood, I can’t help smiling.

  “Here, this is for you.” She chucks me a small parcel, loosely wrapped in a piece of dirty cloth.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “Open it up and find out, why don’t you? I would have wrapped it up better, but I figured it wasn’t really worth it just for you.” She pokes out the tip of her tongue.

  I flash her a scathing look, then remove the contents of the package. It is a bracelet, formed from three strips of clunky metal.

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s beautiful. Did you make it?”

  “I got one of the Wasps to help, but mainly it was me.”

  I slip the bracelet on. It’s a little loose around my skinny wrist, but not so much that it’ll fall off.

  “Thanks.” I smile. “I love it.” I run my finger along the interlocking weave.

  “What’s wrong?” asks Aileen when I don’t look back up.

  “Nothing,” I say, forcing a smile.

  “You’re worrying again.”

  “You know me. It’s what I do best.”

  “I’ve told you before: nothing is going to change. No one will care that you’re married. I won’t care, and my opinion’s the one that matters most. You’re doing something great, Jaime. For the whole clan.”

  “But no one knows that. You’re the only person I’ve told about the deal with Raasay.”

  “Yes, but everyone trusts the elders; they know it’s happening for a good reason. No one is going to be anything but grateful.”

  I just can’t see it that way.

  “Do you remember when we were little and we used to sneak into the cookboth and steal sweetmeats?” Aileen says.

  I smile. “You mean when you made me sneak in and steal sweetmeats?”

  “I didn’t hear you complaining when you were stuffing your face afterward! You used to nearly wet yourself every time, convinced we were going to get caught.”

  “That is definitely not true.”

  “And did we ever get caught?”

  “No. What’s your point?”

  “That I’m always right. So if I tell you everything’s going to be fine, everything’s going to be fine. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Good. Now give me a hug.”

  I wrap my arms around her, and she squeezes me tight. For those brief few moments, nothing else matters. I’m not thinking about the future or the past. All I feel is safe.

  “I should start getting ready,” I say, breaking away from her. “I have to meet the girl’s parents at morning meal.”

  “Remember to be nice,” she says, flicking my ear.

  “Ow!” I flick her back, in the middle of her f
orehead.

  “You really want to do this?” She starts pinching my arms. I squirm away, but she soon has me in a headlock. She’s always been able to beat me in a fight.

  “Okay, okay, I surrender!”

  She lets me go. We’re both laughing, out of breath.

  “I’m always going to be here for you, Jaime. You know that, right? You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  IT’S ONLY A SHORT WALK FROM OUR BOTHAN TO THE Gathering. I drag my heels, making it take twice as long as normal. I spend the time imagining all the ways I could prevent today from happening: feigning illness, hiding in the food store, scaling the wall and running away. . . .

  It’s not often we allow people from Raasay into our enclave. They’re very different from us. They have all sorts of strange ways and weird traditions. Like forcing marriage. Maistreas Sorcha told me about it: as soon as a Raasay girl turns nine, she is allocated a male, whom she is forced to marry. The couple then stays together for the entirety of their lives. Once the girl turns sixteen, they are expected to have children, and any children they have must stay with them until they too are wed. I’ll never understand it. I have no idea who birthed me, nor would I want to know. It is toirmisgte — forbidden to be spoken about. I wasn’t even aware the words mother and father could apply to a single person until a couple of years ago. In our clan, everyone cares for one another equally. It is much better that way.

  When I reach the Gathering, the visitors from Raasay are already there, talking to the elders while they wait for me. They must have left their island before first light. It is only a small group; I assumed there would be more. One of them laughs, with a forced smile. Maighstir Ross spots me coming and breaks off from what he’s saying to introduce me.

  “Ah, perfect timing. This is Jaime-Iasgair. Jaime, I’d like to introduce you to clan chiefs Balgair MacSween and Conall MacLeod; Ministear Baird and his assistant, Errol; and your betrothed’s parents, Hector and Edme.”

 

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