SelfSame (10 page)

At four o’clock she finally kicked them both out, saying with barely-concealed exasperation, “Thanks, guys, it’s been great, but I can take it from here.”

Fay’s presence made it impossible for either of them to protest and they got up to leave, but Ben’s self-imposed pretense as her boyfriend asserted itself at the door. He leaned his head towards hers and she thought he was going to say something privately to her. Instead, he kissed her on the lips, a light brushing of skin on skin that took her completely off guard.

“I’ll see you later,” he said.

She managed to nod, but it wasn’t until the door closed behind them that she realized she’d stopped breathing. Fay, oblivious to any undercurrents, pounced.

“I realize you’ve got a lot on your plate, young lady, but really, you could have mentioned that you were seeing someone!”

Sorcha almost said, “I didn’t know myself,” but instead went with, “It was all rather sudden.”

“Well, he’s got my stamp of approval. I hope he doesn’t hang out much with that John boy, though. Him, I have my doubts about. Did he have to contradict everything Ben said?”

“Did he?” Sorcha asked, distracted. She touched her bottom lip with the tips of her fingers. It had been such a little thing, just a soft, casual kiss.

For the rest of the evening, the kiss was on her mind. She thought about it when her parents came home earlier than expected with leftovers from their favorite Italian restaurant. She thought about it when she brushed her teeth and when she laid her head down on her pillow.

It was the first thing Enid thought of when she woke in the longhouse.

Enid

Her mother was sitting cross-legged next to Enid’s sleeping furs. She pushed the hair back from Enid’s forehead and said, “You still sleep until you wake.”

Enid sat up and stretched her sore body. The furs were soft, but the ground underneath them was harder than the straw mattress she was used to.

“Yes,” she replied.

Bluebird looked around as if ensuring no one could hear. “My husband, Walks Like a Moose, suggested I apprentice you to the Haudenosaunee medicine man. It will bring our family great honor.”

Enid had thus far been convinced Bluebird’s uncommon resolve to get her back had been motivated by love and a desire to save her from her father’s callousness. She’d assumed it was an unselfish act and that Bluebird had convinced Walks Like a Moose to help her at the risk of alienating him.

Now all her thoughts of family closeness were dashed. “Apprentice?”

Bluebird nodded, her eyes shining. “If you please him, he may even take you as his wife. Then he would join our clan.”

Sorcha’s world intruded as the Twilight Zone theme song played slightly off-key in Enid’s head. Despite her shock, despite the automatic rejection of her mother’s proposal, Enid knew it would be illogical to protest. There was nothing she could do or say to sway her mother against this course of action. Enid knew better than to place the blame on Walks Like a Moose. The Haudenosaunee were a matrilineal society. Even though Bluebird had married into the clan, she had a voice in its decision-making. She saw Enid as a stepping-stone to power in the community.

“And if he does not like me?”

Bluebird beamed. “How could he not? You are pretty enough and younger than the other women who would have him, and you have a gift that they do not.”

With a cold feeling of dread, Enid asked, “What gift is that?”

Her mother’s head tilted to one side as she regarded her. “You said you still sleep until you wake. The Mahican medicine man told me your spirit was split in two, and when you were a child you talked of nothing else. What was her name? Your future self?”

Enid thought then not of Sorcha, but of her own future self. She could see her life as if it were laid out on a path before her. The Haudenosaunee medicine man would use Sorcha’s knowledge of history to predict things that would give him advantages unavailable to other leaders. If Enid cooperated, she could rule by his side. If she did not, he would get the information out of her one way or another. It was a scenario that she had long dreaded and one that she had vowed would never occur. She was worth more than the future half of her soul.

“I do not remember,” she lied. “Elizabeth told me the medicine man’s story, but I have long since stopped pretending I had another life.”

Bluebird’s eyes widened and for the first time, Enid saw anger in her face. She’d been all gentleness and persuasion, but Enid had heard her screeching at Black Wolf and knew she was capable of more.

“Pretending? I hardly think so. The things you told me even as a child were quite astonishing. Surely you realize how such a gift could benefit you?”

Enid knew she had to tread very carefully here. Not only must she convince Bluebird she had no such gift, but she must do so in a way that wouldn’t further anger her. Bluebird had obviously hung big hopes on Enid. The knowledge that she had an ulterior interest in her was a crushing blow, because Enid had fallen for her kindness. It would be a miracle if she managed to deflect this woman – this stranger’s – fury.

“It would indeed be a great boon if I had ever had such a gift. However, I assure you, Mother, I was never in possession of a second soul. From what Elizabeth tells me, I was merely an imaginative child.”

Bluebird’s lips thinned to a severe line. “Then why do you not wake?”

“The village doctor says my brain was injured when I was born. He has seen many such injuries when a babe does not breathe soon enough. Most are bereft of intelligence; I was lucky to only have problems waking.” No village doctor had ever examined her, but her mother did not know that.

Bluebird pressed a hand to her chest, her face the picture of appalled betrayal. “This is grave news indeed. Walks Like a Moose cannot present you to the Haudenosaunee medicine man if you have nothing to offer him. I must stop him, and quickly.”

Enid’s mouth fell open as Bluebird jumped to her feet and rushed out of the longhouse. She felt as if her body had transformed into a leaf that was caught up in a capricious wind.

With no instructions on what to do, she combed and replaited her hair and tidied her sleeping furs. There was nothing readily available for her to eat, but she was accustomed to that. She needed to relieve herself however, and was glad when Spotted Fawn arrived. She didn’t know how else to tell her half-sister what she needed, so she bent her knees and made a “Pssss,” sound, which made Spotted Fawn giggle.

Outside, about half an inch of snow covered everything, and more was gently falling. Footprints were everywhere, but the people who’d been out and about yesterday were scarce, and those she saw were bundled up in their winter robes.

Enid was unsure how much, if anything, Bluebird had told her youngest daughter. She watched closely for any difference in Spotted Fawn’s demeanor. The girl showed no obvious change in her manner and for that Enid was thankful, although she suspected it probably wouldn’t last. She accompanied her half-sister outside the wooden palisade that surrounded the village and along a well-worn trail some ways into the woods, until the stench told her the latrine was near. It was a huge European-style trench dug downwind of the settlement and nowhere near the water supply.

Enid wasn’t sure how to go about the business she had there, and mimed as much to Spotted Fawn. The girl gave her a funny look, but supplied her with dried corn leaves and demonstrated how Enid should use the crude facilities. There was nothing dignified about it, but at least there was no one else about, and Spotted Fawn walked far enough away to give her a measure of privacy.

When she was finished, she washed her hands with snow and headed towards Spotted Fawn, but something caught her eye. At the edge of a dense stand of low-growing hemlock trees behind the latrine, a man stepped into view. Enid’s heart skipped a beat or two when she saw him. He was facing away from the latrine, but could easily have seen her doing her business. She hurried on, hoping he was just politely waiting his turn, but something made her look back.

The man was dressed the same as all the other warriors. His hair was like Joseph’s, except the shaved part had grown out into stubble that was as dark as Sorcha’s dad’s five o’clock shadow when he had a few days off from work. The man turned enough to show her his face and she gasped as he melted back into the shadows.

It
was
Joseph.

Enid caught up to Spotted Fawn. She bent and with her finger drew the shape of a mushroom in a clean patch of snow, then pointed to her eye to indicate she’d seen some. Then she drew the shape of a basket and made a cupping motion over the mushroom and back to the basket. She pointed at Spotted Fawn and then in the direction of the longhouse. Spotted Fawn lifted the front of her robes to indicate they could carry the mushrooms that way. Enid frowned and brushed a hand fastidiously down the front of the winter robe her mother had leant her. Spotted Fawn shrugged and made a face that clearly said, “Whatever,” and ran off. As soon as she was out of sight, Enid sprinted to the trees.

“Joseph!” she whispered. He’d moved from last location she’d seen him, but she knew he had to be near. There were no revealing footprints in the snow; he’d taken care to disguise them. “Come out!”

Sugar maples dominated this section of the forest, an area that probably got a lot of traffic during the spring when the tribe tapped the trees for syrup. The maples were bare now, but in summer they would block the sun, allowing the hemlock growing beneath them to get little sunshine. This particular stand of hemlock might be stunted, but it was a hardy evergreen species that formed a thicket large enough to provide shelter for any local animals brazen enough to live so near the human settlement. A hand brushed aside a branch and gestured her over. She hiked up the buckskin dress and dropped to her knees, crawling underneath and through the shrubs. Joseph pulled her inside, where the branches had been thinned to make a cozy space, with the flat, rounded hemlock needles layered thickly on the ground. Without thinking, she went directly into his arms, hugging him and exclaiming softly, “I’m so glad you’re alive!”

He hesitated before returning the hug. She felt his chin brushing the top of her head and the warmth of his breath in her hair. In fact, his body radiated warmth, more so even than when he’d held her in the field. She pulled away, instinctively knowing something was wrong.

Both of his eyes were purple from the beating the Mohawk had given him. Again, it reminded her of Ben, but there was something else, a swollenness to Joseph’s cheeks and under his chin that made her think of the mumps.

“Are you well?” she asked.

He didn’t answer; just shook his head slowly, his eyes conveying deep sadness.

“Is it Bear Talker? Did they burn his longhouse? Was that the fire I saw?”

He still said nothing and after a moment it occurred to her, horribly, why.

“Open your mouth,” she said.

He shook his head and pulled back.

“Oh, my God.” She put her cold hands to his hot face. His hands rose and covered hers, holding them in place against his cheeks.

“Joseph,” she whispered, tears forming in her eyes. “Let me see it.”

He tried to shake his head again, but she insisted, “You need medicine. Open.”

It was dark under the branches except for the small amount of filtered light coming in through the needles. Joseph tried to open his mouth, but the swelling prevented his jaw from dropping very far. She saw enough, though. The base of what was left of his tongue was so purple it appeared black. Someone, maybe even Joseph himself, had crudely stitched the wound closed, although if he’d done it, she couldn’t imagine how he’d managed. His breath was foul, but not overly so. She hoped that meant there was no infection.

From outside, she heard Spotted Fawn calling, “Ee-nid!”

She dropped her head in her shaking hands for a moment to get a grip on the tumult of her emotions. She didn’t have time to indulge them other than to acknowledge a bottomless hatred for the men who did this to him.

“I have to go or they will come looking. Do you need food?”

He didn’t shake his head yes or no, but she answered her own question. “Of course you do, you’re feverish and you can’t chew anything hard. I’ll bring you something as soon as I can get away again. Oh, Joseph…”

Spotted fawn’s voice sounded closer, “Ee-nid!”

Enid took his face in her hands again and very gently kissed him on the corner of his mouth. “I’ll be back.”

She poked her head out. There was no sign of Spotted Fawn, so she scrambled out of Joseph’s hiding place. It was a great spot to conceal oneself so close to the settlement, since the putrid odor of the open latrine trench would keep people from lingering in the area.

Enid saw Spotted Fawn’s back not far from the trees and scooted around to come at her from an angle that wouldn’t give Joseph’s location away.

“Hello,” Enid said. The girl turned with a relieved expression. Enid walked with her to the picture of the mushroom she’d drawn in the snow, which was almost obliterated by the new flakes that had fallen in the intervening time. She pointed to the mushroom and then put her hands to her throat and stuck her tongue out. Spotted Fawn laughed, understanding her meaning that the mushrooms she’d supposedly found were not edible. As they walked back to the longhouse, Enid hoped Joseph hadn’t seen her little pantomime and misinterpreted it.

Inside, there was no sign of Bluebird. Spotted Fawn sat on her furs and got to work on sewing something. Enid knew that under normal circumstances, everyone was expected to make themselves useful to the community for a large portion of the day. The women did the farming and household tasks while the men went out to hunt and fish. Bluebird hadn’t given her a list of chores yet, so she casually snooped around. Most of the foodstuffs were kept in a central location and shared communally. Like the siding of the longhouse, the containers were made of bark and most of them held the corn and beans the women had grown and dried. Along with stone knives, clay pots, wooden bowls and cups, Bluebird had smaller wooden containers with bark lids that held dried berries and nuts. Enid snuck a handful of each into her pocket, which she’d tied around her waist under the borrowed dress. She found nothing at all that could be used as medicine for Joseph’s severed tongue. The medicine man was probably in charge of the stores of healing herbs. Him, she wasn’t about to go see.

There’d been a stand of black willow trees growing by the river, though. The small knife she’d taken from her father’s house was still in her pocket. She grabbed up one of her mother’s clay pots and mimed to Spotted Fawn that she was going to get some water. She anticipated Spotted Fawn would protest that there was plenty of water in the longhouse, so she quickly hurried away. The snow had stopped falling, but it was cold. In this world, it was often difficult to judge time, especially when the sun was hidden. Enid estimated her mother had been gone for over an hour, however, and she worried she’d run into her.