I am so used to the blackness of his hair, I cannot imagine it changing. I don’t think I want it to.
Kindred John throws Ruby in the air again.
“She’s too big for that,” Elizabeth says.
“Five years old isn’t too big for throwing in the air,” Kindred John says, and Ruby laughs as he swings her up.
“You’ll hurt your back,” Elizabeth tells him, and he puts Ruby down.
“Heather needs some more flour,” Kindred John says. “I need Kate to help with the wheel.”
There’s a strange look on Kate’s face. “I’m helping Elizabeth,” she says.
“I have asked you to come with me,” Kindred John says.
Then he leaves the room and as she follows him, I’m shocked to see her pull a face behind his back.
I glance at Elizabeth, but I don’t know if she’s seen. If she did, I wonder what punishment Kate will get.
“Nana Willow needs her tincture,” Elizabeth says to me. “Will you take it to her? She’s not good today.”
“Of course,” I say, but there’s a pebble of dread sitting in my stomach. I can’t tell anyone, but Nana Willow frightens me. She has stayed in her room for so many years that her mind has become as withered as her skin.
Her bedroom is downstairs. Out of the kitchen, across the hall and down the tiled corridor. I can’t help but glance at the door of the Forgiveness Room as I walk past. I have only walked through there once, and I never want to do it again. Another short corridor and I’m outside Nana Willow’s room.
I don’t knock. I know she can’t hear. Slowly I push open the heavy wooden door and her smell rushes up to me. I try not to mind it. I tell myself it is as natural as the flowers in the field. But it smells of decay.
I force myself to step inside. I force myself to smile, even though from here I can see Nana Willow’s eyes shut tight. Her chest sounds like a creaking bough as she sleeps.
My feet don’t make a sound as I walk toward her. There’s a small table next to her bed and I put the glass of fresh juice with tincture drops onto it.
“Nana Willow,” I whisper. She doesn’t stir. “Nana Willow.” I lean toward her and her eyes snap open and are staring into mine.
“Sylvie, you came,” she says, her voice like steam escaping through the crack in her mouth.
“It’s me, Nana Willow. It’s Pearl.” But she doesn’t see me. Her fingers reach out and stick onto mine. I want to run from here, but I know I can’t.
“I knew you’d come back to me,” she says. She tries to reach up. To stroke my face. I don’t mean to, but I pull away.
“Nana Willow, I am Pearl.” My hands are shaking slightly as I reach for the glass. “You must drink this.” I should sit her up, but I’m scared of feeling her bones through her nightdress. Instead, I tip her head up slightly. She looks confused as I bring the glass to her lips, and I try to go slowly as she swallows, but some of the precious juice dribbles out from her mouth and drips down her wrinkled neck. And all the time, she looks at me with her cloudy eyes.
When the glass is empty, I reach for a brown cloth folded neatly on the table. I dab gently at the spilled juice on her skin. Nana Willow is staring at me when something changes in her. It’s like she suddenly sees who I really am. A moan leaves her and now I’m wiping away her tears.
I wait until her crying stops.
“It’s OK, Nana Willow.” I dare to reach out and stroke her hair back from her face. She is like a child, I tell myself. Just like a child.
Her eyes are closed now, so I turn to go. As I dash to the door, I hear her move behind me.
I glance back and she’s sitting up. I can see that she is about to call me over again.
I run from the room and don’t even close the door behind me.
CHAPTER FIVE
Elizabeth has explained that I might not get another Blessing for a while, but gradually my body will adapt and then I will have them every few weeks. It’s a relief not to have the coarse slab in my underwear. Now I can swim again.
We see a glimpse of our lake through the trees. It’s beautiful today. The sun makes the water glisten and as we get closer and push past the leaves, we can see it all. It’s an almost perfect circle. The trees are stepped back slightly from the water, leaving the grass to run down to its edge. It’s shallow at first, but out in the middle you could never touch the bottom. Today it’s blue, shining off the sky. And as the heat tickles my shoulders, I know I want to jump in.
“Race you!” Jack shouts, pushing Kate and me aside, taking his shirt off as he runs. So we follow him, jolting the birds from the trees with our laughter.
“Get him!” Kate calls to me as I throw down my bag and pull my shirt over my head. She catches up with him as he struggles with his trousers, jumping on him until they both crash to the ground. My new skirt is easy to take off and I pass them both, my bare feet feeling the dry grass changing to damp.
In my underwear, I can feel the heat of the sun on my back as I run, splashing, into the lake. The freezing water whips at my ankles, stings my knees. I stop and gasp, just as Jack skims through the air and dives into the water. When he surfaces, he’s a little way out.
“Come on, Pearl,” he shouts. “It’s easier if you’re quick.” He ducks his head under again, curls his body, and kicks until he disappears.
“Last one to the middle washes Kindred John’s underwear,” Kate says from beside me. Then she’s gone, into the water.
So I go too. I breathe, tuck my head in and dive into the icy water. The shock hits my face, but it’s so amazing down here—with the water above and around me, the world dissolves into a low humming. It’s only me and the cold.
My head moves through the surface and so I breathe again, swimming until I reach Jack in the middle, where there’s no way we can stand.
“It’s so clear today,” he says. His shoulders break through the top of the water and his hands mirror mine as we turn them in circles to keep afloat.
“It’s good that it’s sunny on our free day, isn’t it?” Then I tip my body and lie flat on my back, my arms moving slowly. The sky above us is extraordinary, with not a cloud in sight.
I could lie like this and be happy forever.
There’s a shouting that murmurs at me through the water. Reluctantly, I lift my head and see that Bobby is now in the lake, his skinny arms reaching above his head, his hands clutching Ruby’s sandals.
“Give them back,” Ruby shouts.
“I’ll go and help her,” Jack says, before he starts swimming toward Bobby. His feet kick water over Kate’s face. She wipes her eyes, treading water all the time. We watch Jack’s strong strokes breaking through the lake until he gets to the shallow edge.
“Enough,” we hear him say, and he takes the sandals from Bobby’s hands. Kate and I swim over lazily to join him.
“I’ll throw her sandals in myself if she doesn’t stop whining,” Kate says as the water gets shallow enough for our feet to touch the bottom. It’s sludgy between my toes. The mud oozes up like cold clay and I don’t like the feel of it, although I know I should. I imagine the bones of a dead man, buried just underneath my feet. I move quickly, as I want to remember only the touch of the water.
We get out, and Kate and I lie side by side on the grass. Jack sits next to us, facing away, looking to the lake. Drops of water sparkle on his skin. I’m surprised how strong his shoulders look. Time is changing him as well, but sometimes I wish we could slow it all down. If I could, I might ask Nature to halt the ticking of her clock, just for a bit.
“Heather says I’m not allowed to go selling at the market for a while,” Kate says, turning onto her elbow to look at me.
“Why?”
“Because she’s been looking at the Outside boys,” Jack says, glancing over his shoulder and smiling.
“Have you?” I ask. “It’s dangerous, Kate.”
“I haven’t.” She sits up, squeezes drops of water from her hair and flicks it toward Jack.
“Why else would they stop you going?” he asks.
Kate leans back onto both of her elbows with a sigh. She tips her head back and her hair touches the ground. She’s been growing it for a year, since she officially became a woman. Jack looks away from her.
“Kindred John says I’m not allowed to speak to them. So I asked him how I’m meant to sell the Outsiders our homegrown beans if I can’t talk to them. He wasn’t having any of it and now he’s stopped me going.” She slumps down and swings an arm over her eyes. “Pig’s breath,” she says quietly into her skin.
Jack and I don’t move. I’ve never heard Kate speak like that before, and about a Kindred. I don’t even dare look at her. I’m suddenly terrified that Papa S. will come creeping out of a tree and strike us down. He’s everywhere. He sees and hears everything. Will she be punished for this?
“Don’t speak like that again, Kate,” Jack says quietly, without turning around. She doesn’t reply. She must know that, even for her, she’s gone too far.
We share our lunch with the children. Chunks of bread with slabs of cheese. A mouthful each of potato salad, leftover from yesterday’s supper. I bite my teeth through the skin of a small tomato and it pops and bleeds its seeds onto my tongue.
“Your shoulders are burning, Jack,” Kate says. She goes to her bag as I wrap the leftover cheese in paper.
“I’ll be OK,” he says, touching his hot skin with his palms.
“Papa S. won’t like it if the sun scolds you,” she says. “It won’t take me long.” She kneels behind him, opens the bottle and pours some sunscreen onto her hands. I see Jack tense as she rubs the cream into his skin. He holds his head still, doesn’t move.
And that strange feeling is back, somewhere in me. Nerves in my belly, a sickness in my throat.
Then Jack stands up quickly. “That’ll be enough,” he says and, without turning toward us, he runs and dives into the water and swims hard over to the other side.
When I look over at Kate, she’s got a smile on her face. She’s still kneeling, the bottle of sunscreen next to her, the imprint of Jack’s body in the grass between her knees.
“Is he OK?” I ask.
She laughs slightly and looks at me and I’m sure she shakes her head. I want to ask why, but a thread of distance winds quietly between us.
“He’s fine,” she says, before she turns onto her belly in the grass.
I lie on my back, feeling the heat of the day on every part of my body. Behind my closed lids, I see the red of the sun. I can hear Ruby and Bobby splashing and laughing. Somewhere in it all must be the sound of Jack.
I don’t think there’s ever been a more beautiful day.
You were torn from me. Your little beating heart taken from me. The soft touch of your newborn flesh disappeared.
I tried. I promise I tried.
“I want to keep my baby!” I screamed at them.
“The baby belongs to Mother Nature. The baby belongs to all of us.”
No. My baby belongs to me.
I screamed and bit and scratched at them, but they turned to stone.
And they hid me away. Cut me from you.
But I am your mother. I am your mother.
I reach up and touch the cold window.
“You are mine,” I whisper through the glass.
CHAPTER SIX
It feels so different walking up to Dawn Rocks in a skirt rather than trousers. The sun hasn’t yet risen and the air is cold around my legs. Jack is in front of me. His shoulders look broad and I can see the muscles in his arms, even through his shirt. He must sense me looking, as he turns around and smiles. He sees Ruby, still so sleepy, walking by my side, and he stops to pick her up. She buries her nose into his neck and he carries on walking.
It always amazes me how silent we are. How almost everyone from Seed can walk through the forest and up the craggy path to the hilltop rocks, yet there’s hardly a murmur between us. Papa S. is at the front, leading the way through the lifting darkness. Looking back, I can just see Elizabeth and I can tell that she’s uncomfortable. The baby in her belly must almost be full-size and it makes her steps heavy and slow. Her blonde hair is tied back from her face, but it still shines in the darkness. She leans on the staff that Kindred Smith made for Nana Willow.
The wind is resting and all around us the blackbirds are singing. Walking like this always makes it worth being woken from my dreams.
Turning the corner in the path, there is the outline of Dawn Rocks in the hillside ahead of us. We will sit there to greet the sun. And as we get closer, I am sure that I can hear Mother Nature whispering to me, hiding just out of reach behind the solid gray.
When we reach the rocks, I sit next to Jack, who has Ruby on his lap. His warmth spreads into me and I barely shiver. I reach down until I feel his fingers in mine. Heather holds my other hand. She smiles at me, but she has lost something from behind her eyes. Each day it feels like the real her tiptoes away, replaced by someone edged in sadness. Is she really being taken by jealousy? It makes me uncomfortable, as no one is unhappy at Seed.
Slowly, the blackness around us changes and color seeps into everything. The cluster of trees below move from murky gray, to blue, to green. The fields shimmer purple, before the rising sun splashes them too. I hold my breath. This is my very favorite time and I want to slow it down, remember everything I see, everything I feel.
When the blue of the sky begins to push through, Papa S. stands up and lifts his palm toward the sun. We stay sitting, but we let go of each other’s hands and reach our own palms upward. I can never be happier. I look at Jack. His head is tipped toward the sky and my eyes follow the line of his neck.
“Thank you, Mother Nature,” says Papa S.
“Thank you, Mother Nature,” we all repeat, our voices lifting to the sun.
Papa S. sits on the ground. We watch as he lays his hands flat on the grass. It’s a hand I know so well, with white skin barely touched by the sun. When he looks at us, we know that it’s time to begin.
“Nature,” we chant. “We thank you for leading Papa S. to Seed. He saved us. He protects us. In return, we give you everything.” The words flow out of me, and I speak with my family as one. “Because we need nothing more. We have Kindreds to guide us, we have food, we have love. We listen to you, Mother Nature, only you.”
We kiss our palms, touch them onto the earth.
Suddenly Papa S. begins to shake. His arm is raised again, but this time it is as though someone invisible is yanking at him and his whole body jolts. His hair shudders against his back. Bobby looks toward me for comfort, but I’m frightened too.
Kindred John gets up.
“Stay back,” Papa S. demands. His voice is deep and rumbles around the rock. I want to block my ears, hear only the comfort of his normal voice. But strange sounds are coming from him and words that make no sense, louder and louder until his head is thrown back, both arms outstretched above him.
When at last he sinks to the ground, his arms lie flat on the earth and he looks at us all with blazing blue eyes. Then he smiles.
“I have learned something new,” he says quietly, his voice now his own. “I have learned that someone among us needs forgiveness. Someone here has let their pure soul become muddied.”
Some of my family shift slightly where they’re sitting. A sign of guilt? I am completely still, but my mind is flicking back in panic through my memory. Is it me? I think of being in that hole in the ground. Had he secretly been watching me? Did he know my fear? I try to stay calm as Papa S. looks at us all. I try to block out memories of the Forgiveness Room, but I can feel the beating wings in my lungs again.
I feel Heather’s hand in mine. I glance at her and she shakes her head, as gently as a whisper, and I slow my breathing. Look at the horizon. Look at the beauty of the line of hills carved into the sky. I am sitting at Dawn Rocks. I am safe. The only sound is that of the birds and the air and the breathing of friends.
Papa S. stands up.
He brushes the dry earth from his knees and wipes his palms clean. His smile is like honey and I know we have him back again.
“Dawn has been greeted,” he says, his arms spread wide with love for us all.
He walks toward me. I see him notice my skirt and I blush with pride. He reaches out, but his hand goes to Heather. She looks up at him and suddenly she’s happy. They hold hands and lead the way back down the path, through the forest and over the field to Seed.
“What was all that about?” Kate asks quietly.
We’re kneeling side by side in the strawberry field. I look around and there’s no one in the next few rows, but I don’t answer her.
“Oi,” she says, digging me in the side with her elbows. We laugh, but for some reason I’m nervous.
“Is it you?” I ask suddenly.
“What—am I the one with the muddy soul?”
“Shh,” I say quickly.
“The strawberries don’t have ears.” She laughs again, popping one into her mouth and making herself go cross-eyed. “Besides, I love Papa S. I believe every word he says.”
“Why are you being like this, Kate?” I whisper.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Strange,” I say.
Kate stops still and looks at me. “Maybe I’m not happy,” she says. “Maybe I want more.”
I don’t understand what she’s saying. No one is unhappy at Seed. There is no place on Earth as good as this.
“What do you mean?” I ask. But Kate doesn’t answer me. She just keeps staring across the fields. “If they find out, they might punish you,” I tell her, because maybe she doesn’t know.
She turns to me, her smile defiant. “They’d better not find out, then.” She picks another strawberry, throws it high into the air and catches it in her mouth.
I reach for one, pull it gently from its stem. It feels soft in my fingers. I want to eat it, but instead I add it to the pile in my little wicker basket.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Come on,” Kate says, once the last of evening meal has been cleared away. “Now you’re a woman, you have to come with us.”
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