Blue Birds
Page 11
I carry Virginia to her home,
tap the door with my shoe.
Mrs. Dare opens,
her face blank and empty.
Dark stains still reach beyond her elbows,
stiffening the fabric of her threadbare sleeves.
So distant she seems.
If I give Mrs. Dare the baby,
will she remember to care for her?
“Perhaps I should keep her longer,
let you get your rest?”
She shakes her head,
reaches for Virginia.
Reluctantly,
I give the baby to her mother.
For a moment,
I linger in the doorway,
watch the sun
fade from the sky.
Someone grasps my hand,
turns me around.
“You’ve been outside the palisade,” George says.
“After I’ve warned you.”
My mind races.
Has he seen more?
Why did I ever
speak to him of Kimi?
“Perhaps your father should know.”
“No,” I say,
“there is no need.”
He studies me closely.
I read a wisp of worry on his face.
“Be careful, Alis.”
Alis
I become skilled at deceiving my parents:
snatching moments
once Father departs to work metal in his shed,
once Mother has left with laundry
for the unmarried men.
As for the babies,
young Miss Lawrence
agrees to do her mending
in Mother’s rocking chair;
Mr. Florrie is happy to rest
on the bench outside our doorway,
prop his hairy arm upon our windowsill,
his hairier chin cupped in his hand.
I pretend I must fetch water,
remove laundry from the line.
Instead I leave the village,
quickly steal away.
Alis
She teaches me
which roots to eat,
how to weave a basket bowl,
where to find the sweetest berries,
that crabs keep a tidy home.
What marvelous things
Kimi has helped me see.
KIMI
Knowing her
enriches every ordinary moment,
makes each sorrow easier to bear.
Yet how long
can friendship
truly remain hidden?
Must we
someday
bring this
to an end?
Alis
Someone knocks
as I wipe the table.
Mrs. Dare is at our threshold.
She wears something clean at last.
“I support you,” she says to Father.
“I’ll do what is necessary.”
She clasps his hand,
pulls the door behind her.
I glance at Mother,
try to read in her expression
what this means.
But she will not meet my eye.
Alis
It has been one week
since Governor White’s leaving.
Most have assembled,
but there are some
who have chosen to be absent
for the meeting the assistants have called.
George and his band of boys
roam the square unattended.
Father calls the group to order,
and though voices fall,
the shouts of George’s boys
continue unchecked.
“While we anticipate the Governor’s return,
our future is uncertain,” Father says.
“Our circumstance has worsened:
each day less food,
division amongst us,
unrest outside our borders.”
His voice drops.
“The death of Ananias Dare.”
Mrs. Dare’s face is ashen.
Father moves to stand beside her.
“Governor White confessed
we live near Indians who’ve hated us
long before we anchored here.”
Manteo speaks.
“I have gone to the Roanoke.
I’ve talked with them,
as I did my people.”
“I do not trust this man!”
The woman’s words are full of hate.
I turn to see who speaks.
It is Mother!
“Why would Manteo side with us?” she says.
“He could favor the Roanoke!”
The gathering’s set ablaze.
“. . . this place is cursed . . .”
“. . . my son only talks of fighting Indians!”
“. . . hardly any flour left . . .”
“. . . Manteo, I cannot trust him . . .”
“. . . don’t know why we ever came.”
“Enough!” Father roars.
One word reaps silence.
“We must prepare to leave for Chesapeake.”
There are cries of gratitude.
Mother embraces Mrs. Dare,
the babies between.
I cannot help but edge away from their joy,
the ugly power of Mother speaking.
“The Governor thinks it best
to delay until spring,” Manteo says.
Father’s mouth is firm.
“John White is gone.
All he offered us
was false security.
Who will leave with me?”
Men and women ease toward Father.
Several draw close to Manteo.
A few stay where they are.
I am pulled in all directions:
finding safety,
losing Kimi.
This division in our midst.
Where do I belong?
Alis
Father insists
we desert
this prison,
this place
whose beauty
sings within me.
Alis
Manteo and I,
we have a pattern now.
I check to see no one is near,
walk slowly to his guard post.
He signals when the way is clear
of Englishmen or Roanoke
that I might go to Kimi.
Today,
her eyes are troubled.
Something smooth
like weathered pebbles
is cupped in her palm.
Kimi touches my forehead,
brings our hands to my heart.
Her pearls are sea foam
spilling from her fingers.
“Montoac,” she says,
placing them over my head.
She gives this to me?
Montoac.
It is what she called
Uncle Samuel’s bird.
What might it mean?
I try to piece ideas together:
Gift?
Token?
Treasure?
All feel right.
I run my finger around the strand.
“Thank you,” I tell her,
touched by her generosity.
I reach for Uncle’s bird,
something I might give her.
I hold it out.
She p
ushes it away.
“Montoac,” she whispers,
her eyes unblinking.
I think she wants
to hear me say it.
“Montoac,” I answer.
The word
brings her
relief.
KIMI
Alis tucks my rope of pearls
inside her coverings.
And though its beauty is hidden,
it is right for her to do.
Every day, the risks
we take are greater.
There, close to her heart,
my montoac will protect her
from what Wanchese
surely plans.
Alis
The sun has moved beyond the tallest trees.
It is later than I’ve intended.
Racing through the forest,
I hear footsteps behind me.
The Indian again?
The pearls thump against my skin,
warmed as if they are a part of me.
I squeeze between the palisade,
scramble over the earthen wall,
desperate to escape whoever is so near.
“Who’s there?”
Old Lump-and-Bump lumbers into view.
“Miss Harvie?” he says,
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Catching a breath of air?”
The story is ridiculous even to my ears.
Lump-and-Bump towers above me,
his knobby nose on great display.
“Do not tell me
you’ve not been warned
of the dangers outside.”
I drop my chin to my chest.
“Mr. Bailie!”
Old Lump-and-Bump looks about.
Outside the village,
two hands cling to the embankment,
a sunburned face appears.
George.
He was the one
out there.
He jumps over the wall.
“I saw Alis,”
he’s out of breath,
“while I was hunting.”
When did he notice me—
before or after I left Kimi?
“Let’s see what your father thinks,”
Old Lump-and-Bump says.
Alis
He marches me to the ironmonger shed,
where Father’s hammer bangs.
George follows behind.
Alis
Inside
there is darkness and fire,
Father’s shape beside the flames.
“Roger, what is this?”
He wipes his hands
on a cloth tucked at his waist.
Only when he is near us
can I see his grim expression.
Old Lump-and-Bump shoves me forward.
“I caught your daughter scrambling over the wall.”
Everyone
so close,
the air bears the odor
of sweat-soured clothing.
Father’s eyes hold mine,
daring me to glance away.
My teeth clamp down.
I will say naught.
“Alis betrayed us,” George says.
I lean against the wall,
Father frowns.
“What do you mean?”
will my heart to calm.
“Ask her what she was doing
in the forest just now.”
Alis
“Alis?”
All eyes are with me.
“What is this George says?”
“I do not know.”
“Speak of the girl,”
George’s lips are hardly moving,
“or I will do it for you.”
“Girl? Alis is the only one
amongst us,” Father says.
George lunges toward me.
There’s hatred in his eyes.
“Tell your father!”
I press my fingers
to my face.
I thought George was my friend.
“A Roanoke girl,” I say.
Alis
“An Indian?”
Father’s expression says
I’m not his daughter,
but a stranger.
For an eternity
he looks from George to me.
“You’ve threatened our safety.”
“Father, no!”
He whips me around,
forces me to keep in step
as he pulls me from the shed.
“I’ve brought us no harm!
She’s just a girl,
like me.”
Alis
George saw us together.
Did he hurt her after I’d gone?
Outside our doorway Father stops,
twists my arm until it pinches.
Anger’s etched upon his ruddy face.
But it’s the way Father’s mouth turns down
that says fear’s what truly plagues him.
“Alis?”
Miss Lawrence opens the door,
Samuel in her arms.
He wails,
waves his tiny fists.
“What story did she tell you?
Surely not the truth,
that she went to meet an Indian.”
Pricks of crimson flood
Miss Lawrence’s cheeks.
She fumbles for the door.
Father slams it shut behind her,
and now Virginia’s crying.
“How dare you,” he says,
each
word
ablaze.
“You said yourself how lonely
it must be as the only girl.
And Kimi—”
“Enough!”
I fight to catch my breath,
swallow the sob rising within me.
Kimi.
Father.
There’s not one thing
I haven’t damaged
today.
KIMI
I do not know what I will say
to explain my missing pearls.
Without them, I should feel naked,
like a child who still plays
at her mother’s feet.
Before the sickness,
Alawa and I
had dreamed of the tattooing,
copper dancing at our earlobes,
the blessings given to those
leaving childhood.
What pride we imagined
in passing through the ceremony.
I never called out
in pain when the ink
marked me
as separate from the little ones,
pointed to my life ahead.
Yet never have I felt
more brave than now.
Alawa,
though you never lived to see,
you must understand:
Today
I left my younger self
behind.
I have given my pearls away,
sacrificed my montoac,
removed my own protection
to cover my friend.
KIMI
I make no effort to hide
how bare I am.
Mother rushes to me,
pulls at my hands,
only to find them empty.
I will not lie,
but I will not bring
Alis danger.
“Your pearls?”
“Gone,” I say.
Though my voice quakes,
there is no shame,
no apology,
no sorrow.
What I’ve done
is best for Alis.
I glide past my aunts and mother,
am first to begin the evening meal.
KIMI
Their whispered words—
How careless, they say.
My aunts’ open stares.
I will endure them,
do my work.
Even as the young ones
swarm about with questions,
I will not say a word.
Alis
Later,
Father grips my shoulders,
his hands blackened from labor.
“I’ve told the assistants
of your foolishness.
Soon everyone will learn
my daughter,
whose own uncle
faced a Roanoke attack,
the very one who cares for Ananias Dare’s child,
placed us in danger
by befriending our enemy.
It won’t surprise me in the least
if Mrs. Dare holds you responsible
for her husband’s death.”
My heart is
tender as a bruise.
“How could you do this?” he whispers.
Does he truly want an answer?
That she has eased my heartache,
shown me things I’ve never known,
these reasons aren’t enough for him,
they wouldn’t satisfy.
“Do not leave this house again.
Not to fetch Virginia,
not to wander in the village.
You stay inside.”
I nod my head,
pinch my lips together.
I will let him see
the pain this causes me.
Alis
From the window,
a blue bird flits
from roof to bench to branch.
The pearls are heavy at my neck,
tucked beneath my clothing.
Father can keep me locked away,
but he can’t force me to forget
the new world opened to me.
Alis
Ia-chá-wan-es,
Kimi’s word echoes
the pulse in my fingers,
the bird’s beating wings.
Ia-chá-wan-es,
I whisper to Samuel,