Seed

by Lisa Heathfield

  I hesitate. I can’t go into that hole again.

  “It’s good,” she says, taking my hand. “It’s in the Eagle Room.”

  Together we walk across the hallway and down the corridor. The door is open and the red of the Eagle Room spills out. The heavy curtains are already closed, even though it isn’t yet dark outside. The deep red of the walls glow in the light. Elizabeth is standing by the table, lifting the cover from a sewing machine. Behind us, Rachel comes in and closes the door.

  Instantly, the air changes. This somehow feels like a secret place, cut off from the rest of the house. Where we are all women. Excitement dances within me and I want to run and throw my arms around Elizabeth. But I stay standing quietly, waiting.

  Kate goes toward the wooden trunk tucked in the corner. I have often looked at it and wondered what’s inside. She lifts the lid.

  “Careful, Kate,” Rachel admonishes. But Kate doesn’t seem to hear. She’s pulling out some material decorated with large, green circles. She wraps it around her body and starts to dance.

  “But that material is patterned,” I say, looking at Elizabeth for an answer. “It’s forbidden.”

  “We make these for the women on the Outside,” Rachel says as she reaches into the trunk and takes out bundles of thread. “We write words that Papa S. has spoken, on pieces of paper that we sew into the hems. To help purify people from the poison around them.”

  “But we aren’t allowed to do writing in the summer,” I remind her. These warmer months are for working outside. It’s only during the winter that we can read and write.

  “Papa S. knows,” Elizabeth reassures me. “It is his wish.”

  Kate has picked up a half-finished skirt, made from material that is covered with silver stars. She holds it, laughing, to her face, her eyes peeping through. I laugh with her.

  So this is where Kate sometimes disappears to since she has become a woman. I can’t believe that all this has been hidden from me. And now I’m here.

  “Enough now, Kate,” Elizabeth says, although her voice is kind. “Choose some material and start the panels of a skirt. Come here, Pearl, I’ll teach you how to work the sewing machine.”

  For years I’ve watched the women sew our clothes. I have never been allowed to help. Now I’m so happy that I want to run around the room like a child. Instead, I go to sit with Elizabeth. Her chair is pushed back slightly, but her pregnant belly still presses against the table. I nearly bend down and whisper to the baby inside. I want to tell it that I am here, that I am a woman.

  “Watch,” Elizabeth says. And I do. She threads the needle, picks up a piece of forbidden material, turns the handle, and begins to sew.

  “Does Papa S. know?” I ask, above the gentle stabbing noise of the machine. “About the material?” Although the door is closed, I wonder if anyone can see us, can hear me speak.

  “Of course.” Elizabeth smiles. “They’re not for us to wear. And our messages might save an unloved person.”

  Her fingers move gently on the cloth. It seems almost alive, the deep green covered with bamboo sticks and birds. I reach out to touch it.

  “What’s Papa S. got against patterns?” Kate asks quietly. Her legs are tucked under her on the sofa, her sandals on the floor.

  Rachel scowls at her. “You know that it’s not Papa S. It’s Mother Nature who tells him.”

  Kate stares back. “So why does Mother Nature find nice material so offensive then?”

  Elizabeth turns to her and there’s a second of silence as the sewing machine stops. “All patterns are false, unless created by Nature.”

  She doesn’t notice Kate making a face at her as she turns back to the sewing machine. I hope that the anger I feel is clear on my face. I can’t bear that Kate is making fun of Elizabeth. Why is she being like this? But I won’t let the magic disappear.

  I watch the needle dig through the material, joining it together. Elizabeth has swept her hair over one shoulder, her eyes fixed on the work.

  Suddenly she stops, sits back. “The baby is kicking.” Her smile is wide as she takes my hand and places it over her stomach. Straight away, I feel it. A pushing against my palm. If it weren’t for the skin in between, I would be holding a tiny foot, or a hand.

  How will we hide that you are Elizabeth’s? No one else is growing a child, yet I’ll have to pretend I don’t know. Maybe, when you are old enough, we’ll run together to the lake, and in the shadows of the trees, I will tell you. Then you’ll never have the empty place I can’t get rid of.

  The sewing machine spills its thread in a line. Elizabeth’s fingers push the material along.

  “Do you get upset?” I ask, before I can convince myself not to. “That it won’t know you are its real mother?”

  Elizabeth looks surprised. Because I have dared to ask? Surely the thought must have found its way to her before. Has she never thought it about me?

  “I am only happy. I’ve been chosen by Nature to carry her child.”

  “Will you love it differently, though?” I persist. “Do you love your own children differently?”

  “I do not have children, Pearl. I have birthed children, but they are not mine.”

  Her words are jagged in me. Say it differently, I want to beg her. Tell me that I am the most special to you.

  But Elizabeth turns, puts her foot on the pedal, and the sewing machine starts again.

  “Here,” Rachel says. She has taken a pen and paper from the drawer and she puts it in front of me. The white of the paper is smooth under my fingers. A bolt of excitement stings my skin. “Write some of Papa S.’s words on here.”

  “Which ones?” He says so many wise things.

  “Anything to save the unfortunate people on the Outside.”

  It doesn’t take long to choose. I pick up the pen. It has been a long time since I have written and I watch carefully as the ink makes the words on the page.

  Listen only to Mother Nature, I write. She will save you.

  Rachel takes the paper from me, carefully folds it and tucks it into the hem of the skirt she has made. Swiftly, she pulls the thread behind it, locks it inside.

  Will anyone find it? Who shall wear the skirt of silver stars? Somewhere, on the Outside, a woman will feel the material against her legs. And hidden away, touching her ankles, my inky words will try to save her.

  So I watch. And I listen. But I hear very little through this thick, dirty glass that separates me from the outside world.

  I see the children. They run across the fields, laughing. I watch them disappear into the trees.

  And I wonder.

  After all these years, I still wonder.

  Each day I imagine that a different child is mine. One day it is the boy growing into a man. His gentle ways. One day it is the girl with hair like the sun. Today, the wild girl is my daughter.

  Most days it is her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “I have some good news,” Papa S. says.

  He is standing at the head of our tables in the meadow.

  The grass around us is dry, as Mother Nature hasn’t sent rain for over two weeks. The morning is cold against my back.

  “We are to welcome three new members to Seed.”

  No one moves, but surely they feel the same shock as I do. There is only us. This is our family. We are complete, safe from the Outside. But now Papa S. wants someone else to come in.

  “Don’t be afraid.” He smiles warmly at us. “I have asked Nature and she has agreed.”

  I look at Kindred John. His face is still, but his eyes don’t seem happy. Elizabeth is smiling, but it doesn’t look right.

  Papa S. motions his hand toward Kindred Smith, who stands up. “Mother Nature guided me,” Kindred Smith begins. He coughs slightly. “I have a good friend, Linda. I hadn’t seen her for many years, but then Nature led me to her. Linda needs me. She needs us. Her heart belongs at Seed.” He is beginning to speak quickly as he spreads his arms wide. “She will live here with her two chil
dren.”

  My mind is stuck. Strangers at Seed.

  Elizabeth kisses her palm and faces it toward Kindred Smith. “We will welcome them,” she says softly as she gets up.

  Heather stands up next. “We will welcome them.” Her voice is strong in the air.

  We all rise. I kiss my palm and face it toward Kindred Smith. His smile is wide.

  “We will welcome them,” I say with my family. I try to mean it and ignore the doubt that is creeping around me. I look to Papa S., but his mouth is closed and I don’t recognize the expression in his eyes.

  We watch the car from the window, Kate, Ruby, and I. From here it looks so small, like a ladybug crawling closer. Slowly, it creeps up our long driveway. We never have visitors and Ruby has gone silent, standing on the chair beside me. Kate’s hands go still in the sink as we hear the rumble of the car’s engine. It comes to a stop outside the main door of our house.

  A woman gets out. Her hair is pulled back from her face. Her trousers are blue, her top black, and she looks nervous. Even from here, I can see the bones through her skin. I have never seen anyone who looks so fragile, as though she could break. She bends to talk to someone in the back, just as the front door to Seed opens and Kindred Smith walks out. He is beaming, and the woman seems to relax slightly as he goes toward her. They kiss each other on the cheek.

  “I’m so glad you decided to come.” Kindred Smith’s words are muffled through the glass.

  “So am I.” The woman smiles nervously and hesitates, before she opens the back door of her car. A little girl steps out, about the same age as Ruby and Bobby. She doesn’t smile, but her eyes are wide as she looks around at the beauty of Seed.

  “This is Sophie,” the woman says, and Kindred Smith smiles and bends down and says something so quietly to the girl that I cannot hear.

  “And this is Ellis,” the woman says as a boy gets out of the car. A boy from the Outside. On the front of his T-shirt is a faded, wide-open mouth with a tongue sticking out. He must be Jack’s age, but he has already grown his hair and his curls fall into his eyes. He puts his hands into his back pockets as he looks at our home. His eyes move slowly across the bricks, the ivy, the windows. Then he’s looking at us. He makes me feel uneasy and I want to duck down under the sink, but I don’t move. He smiles a lazy smile and seems to nod before he looks away.

  “Well,” Kate says. “Look at our new converts.” She doesn’t seem to notice that her hands are still dunked in the bubbly water.

  “She looks nice,” says Ruby. I think she means Sophie, who has silently taken the woman’s hand as Kindred Smith talks quietly to them all, sweeping his arms across the fields beyond.

  “I’ll show you around,” I hear him say and they all follow him toward the front door.

  The boy still has his hands in his back pockets as he turns to glance at us again. I don’t know why, but I wish I’d already looked away.

  “Ellis,” says Kate as she brushes a sponge around the inside of a mug.

  “It’s a nice name,” says Ruby.

  Kate looks at me, smiling. “It certainly is. And he looks like a nice boy, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes, he does,” I say. “It’ll be nice for Jack to have another boy our age.”

  “Oh, Pearl, please,” Kate says. And I can’t tell whether she’s angry or laughing.

  “Are they really coming to stay?” Ruby asks.

  Just then, the kitchen door opens and Kindred Smith comes in. The new family are behind him.

  “Ah, some more people for you to meet,” Kindred Smith says. “Kate, Pearl, Ruby, this is Linda, Ellis, and Sophie. They are our new family members.”

  “I’m Kate. It’s nice to meet you,” Kate says, looking at Ellis.

  “You too,” he says. His voice is low and soft. Hearing it makes my skin tingle, like I’ve been out in the sun too long. He turns to look at me. “Hello,” he says. It’s strange, because I don’t really know what to say. Maybe it’s because his hair is already longer, it makes me awkward, unsure of who he is.

  “So, are you Ruby, or Pearl?” He has a funny smile on his lips.

  “Pearl,” I manage. I suddenly wish I’d had just a few more months to let my hair grow as long as Kate’s.

  “Hi, Sophie,” Ruby says. “Will you sleep in our room?” I know that Ruby is staring at Sophie’s dress with butterflies all over it. I can’t tell whether she’s envious, or confused.

  “Do you want to show her your room?” Kindred Smith asks.

  “Will she not be sharing with me?” Linda looks unsure. From this close, I can see dry patches of skin on her face. They look sore.

  “The women sleep in different rooms.” Kindred Smith touches her arm, and it seems to melt her hesitation.

  “It will be fun to share with other children, won’t it?” Linda asks Sophie. The little girl doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even nod her head. She just looks at her mother with those wide eyes.

  “I’ll show you,” says Ruby, and she reaches for Sophie’s hand. Before the little girl has time to realize it, they’re walking out of the room. Her mother’s smile looks a bit forced, as though she’s trying too hard to relax. Mother. Sophie knows her true mother. There’s a rush of something in me, but I know it is dark, so I push it away.

  “So, Ellis,” says Kate. “Where do you think you’ll sleep?” There’s a crackle of unease in the air. Kindred Smith stares at Kate. If she notices the look he gives her, she doesn’t show it. Her smile remains and Ellis looks right at her.

  “I’ll go where I’m told,” he says, his own smile twinkling.

  “Right, then I’d better tell you.” Kindred Smith does a funny sort of laugh. “Pearl, you can show Linda where her room is.” Then he turns to their mother. “When you’ve unpacked your car, Pearl can show you where to park it, around the back. Then you can give the key to me.”

  “Oh,” she says.

  Kindred Smith smiles at her. “We don’t want the key to get lost. It’s a big house.”

  “Of course,” Linda says, but she twists her hair nervously in her fingers as she looks out the window toward her car, waiting in the driveway.

  “And do you have telephones?” Kindred Smith asks. “Obviously we don’t use them at Seed.”

  Linda looks flustered. “It’s in here,” she says as she reaches into the small brown bag hanging by her hip. She pulls out a black telephone. I’ve seen people from the Outside use them at the market, but it feels wrong to have one in our home. Nature has said that they block out her voice.

  “Ellis?” Kindred Smith holds out his empty hand toward him.

  “Are you serious?” the boy asks. He’s looking at his mother.

  “We’ve talked about this,” she says quietly.

  Kindred Smith laughs lightly. “I’ll keep it safe.”

  I watch as Ellis takes his telephone from his pocket and reluctantly puts it into Kindred Smith’s palm.

  “We could show you around when you’ve seen your room,” Kate says to Ellis.

  “OK,” he says.

  I just stare at him. A stranger in our home. But he looks different from the boys I see at the market. And I don’t want to turn away from him, like I do from them.

  Kate is left in the kitchen as we go upstairs. Kindred Smith and Ellis continue up to the top of the house, where the boys and Kindreds sleep. I take Linda into the room next to ours. Heather is making up the spare bed in the corner.

  “I saw you come up the driveway,” she says as she goes up to hug Linda. “Welcome.”

  “Thank you.” Linda’s cheeks blush red. For a moment, I’m worried that she’ll let herself cry.

  “Shall I leave Linda here with you?” I ask Heather as she turns back to the bed. “Kate and I are going to show Ellis around.”

  “Ellis?”

  “He’s my son,” Linda says.

  Heather shakes the bedsheet and it cracks in the air.

  “He’s about Jack’s age,” I say.

  Heather nods.
“Well, you’d better go and help him settle in,” she says as she tucks the sheet under the heavy mattress. “I’ll stay with Linda.” But her words are almost lost to me, as I’m already out of the bedroom and running down the stairs, two at a time.

  I stand by the back door, waiting. I’m holding my sandals in my hand, feeling the bristles of the doormat on my bare feet. There’s a bird, a wood pigeon, I think, making shapes in the sky. It lifts and swoops, a smudge of brown against the blue.

  “You were quick.” It’s Ellis.

  “Yes,” I say. There’s something about his eyes, as though he’s seeing right into me. I touch the thin strap of my top. Does he notice that I’m wearing a skirt?

  “Where are you going to show me first?” he asks.

  I wonder if I should wait for Kate, but I’m not sure where she is. “Does Sophie want to come too?” I ask.

  “I think she’s with the other little girl.”

  “Ruby.”

  His eyelashes are a deep beetle-black, much darker than Jack’s.

  “Let’s go, then?”

  It’s a question and the only reply I can give is to start walking. We go across the gravel of the driveway, the stones wincing my feet. I don’t let it show, though. And anyway, the grass is only a few steps away.

  “I’ll show you the barn first,” I finally say. “It’s where you’ll probably be working.”

  “Mom didn’t say anything about working,” Ellis says.

  “Everyone works here.” How can he expect otherwise? “It’s good work. Jack loves it.”

  Ellis glances at me. “Who’s Jack?”

  “One of us.” The grass is dry between my toes. “You’ll meet him now, I should think.”

  I’m feeling a bit annoyed and I don’t know why. Suddenly, I’m not so sure I want these new people here. I know I shouldn’t feel like this, because Papa S. says we must welcome them. And I should willingly let them share in the beauty of Seed. But just this second, I don’t feel like it. I want us all to be left alone.

  So I don’t say another word and then we’re pushing through the big, rusting doors, into the banging and clattering of the work barn.