Blue Birds

Home > Other > Blue Birds > Page 12
Blue Birds Page 12

by Caroline Starr Rose

I hum its bright music,

  its melody sings.

  I hold the name closely,

  its beauty my treasure,

  hidden here with me,

  my secret alone.

  Alis

  Mother,

  always so quick

  to mend any rift

  within our family,

  after Father whispers to her

  all that’s happened,

  looks to me,

  disappointment in her eyes.

  She says

  nothing,

  does

  nothing

  to make things better.

  Never

  have I been

  more alone.

  KIMI

  The day passes

  with sun and dirt and weeding.

  I leave the fields,

  I go to find her,

  but she is not in our meeting place.

  I reach for my pearls,

  remember they are gone.

  Though I do not know

  Wanchese’s plans,

  I will not believe

  she is in danger,

  for my montoac protects her.

  I could do nothing for Alawa,

  but I will do all I am able

  to keep Alis safe.

  Alis

  Mrs. Dare no longer

  brings Virginia.

  She does not trust me

  with her child.

  As Father suggests,

  am I to blame

  for Mr. Dare’s death?

  It is

  too much—

  Did I destroy

  this family?

  Alis

  Shut in,

  I will not wander,

  will not talk

  to those I shouldn’t.

  Unseen,

  I will not bring

  my family

  further shame.

  Closed off,

  held back,

  contained,

  I will not tempt

  disaster.

  Forgotten,

  I will

  simply

  fade away.

  Alis

  Though a few still side with Manteo,

  most assistants want to leave at once.

  We are so close to Chesapeake,

  they say,

  the journey will be swift,

  that shelters, a few vegetables

  are a poor excuse for staying

  where our very lives are threatened.

  Father was the one

  who pushed for leaving sooner,

  but this has been forgotten.

  He’s been stripped of his position.

  No one listens to him now.

  His daughter is a traitor, they say.

  Alis

  At first,

  we’ll take

  only what’s necessary.

  Later,

  others will collect

  the rest of our possessions.

  What do I have that is needed,

  save the clothing I wear?

  Yet there is one here

  far more dear to me than these.

  We will depart,

  sail in the pinnace,

  group by group,

  build the City of Ralegh.

  We are to forget this Roanoke,

  but I cannot,

  I never will.

  Alis

  “We’re to gather in the square

  this evening,” Father says.

  I stir my pottage,

  more water than true meal.

  For once I am not saddened

  Father keeps me shut away.

  I could not bear

  their questioning eyes,

  their looks of disapproval.

  “You’re coming, Alis,” he says.

  I grip my spoon so tightly,

  it bites into my skin.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll tell everyone you forsake that Indian.”

  I glance at Mother.

  She never turns my way.

  “If you don’t,” he says,

  “we’ll be outcast,

  unable to start again in Chesapeake.”

  I slam the spoon upon the table,

  hoping for correction.

  Mother hasn’t spoken to me in days.

  Instead she stands,

  swiftly clears the table.

  Father pushes back his chair.

  “It’s time to go,” he says.

  Alis

  How different the outside world is,

  how unfamiliar the village seems,

  the night air not as I remember it,

  the stars in unknown patterns,

  these faces strange.

  So much feels changed

  in just three days.

  Father moves ahead of us.

  I stay with Mother,

  her body shields me from the others.

  If only she’d speak,

  put her arm about my shoulders.

  The talk is as it’s always been—

  threat and leaving,

  hunger, fear.

  Then Father calls to everyone,

  “My daughter wants to speak.”

  Everyone staring,

  fire and shadow

  in their faces.

  I try to breathe.

  My chest is pinched.

  “Tell them, Alis.”

  Father’s words ring out.

  Kimi,

  my friend,

  who’s been

  so good to me.

  I twist my apron

  in my fists.

  Now Father’s next to me.

  “Say it,” he says.

  “I—”

  my throat constricts.

  No words will come.

  “You must,” he whispers.

  My family’s standing

  rests on this.

  Forgive me, friend.

  What else can I do?

  “I was wrong.”

  The words come,

  but I will not claim them.

  “I betrayed our village

  in befriending the girl.”

  No one speaks.

  Mother’s eyes are downcast.

  No one

  says a thing

  because

  they’ll

  never

  trust me.

  My heart rushes.

  I crush my hand against it.

  And feel them.

  Kimi’s pearls.

  It is too much!

  Tears prick my eyes.

  I’ve given her away.

  Alis

  Those who call me traitor,

  there is no reason

  they’ll embrace me

  once we set sail for Chesapeake.

  They will all begin again.

  I will still be a disgrace,

  a reminder

  of strife

  and fear

  and failure.

  Alis

  I cannot sleep,

  ask Father for a bit of wood.

  I do not have Uncle’s skill,

  am not so familiar with iacháwanes

  to remember every feature,

  but what I create satisfies.

  I imagine Uncle Samuel,

  his warm hand at my back,

  and the making

  helps ease my grief
>
  in losing him,

  helps me forget for just a moment

  I’ve lost her, too.

  “It is good,” Father tells me as he holds it.

  “Fine work like Samuel’s.”

  He talks as though

  all is well between us.

  This bird’s a humble offering,

  though she’ll never receive it.

  This bird speaks the things I cannot say.

  I am sorry, Kimi.

  I knew no other way.

  KIMI

  Though she hasn’t come,

  each day I go to meet her.

  Is she safe?

  Does my montoac

  protect her?

  Or has she decided

  our friendship is a burden,

  the risk of knowing me

  too great?

  Alis

  Father says

  my confession

  has set me free,

  that with time

  I’ll be forgiven

  by the community.

  Mother speaks

  to me again,

  but uses formal words,

  that help to keep her distance.

  She has no soft caresses,

  no tenderness for me.

  Perhaps one day,

  Father will again be asked to lead.

  Perhaps Mother will soften,

  that all she needs is time.

  Neither understands

  why I remain indoors.

  I cannot undo

  what I’ve done

  to Kimi.

  I cannot face

  those who do not

  want me near.

  Until we leave the island,

  this is where I’ll stay.

  Alis

  This truth is inescapable:

  living here brings danger.

  I imagine meeting Kimi

  in a place we mustn’t hide.

  It never was expected

  we’d remain on Roanoke.

  If we had never journeyed here,

  how much my life would lack.

  We are impoverished,

  desperate.

  I’m most myself

  when with her.

  How might I find peace

  when two worlds war inside?

  Alis

  How many days

  since George saw

  the two of us together?

  Perhaps a week or more.

  It is hard to remember,

  too painful to think upon.

  Even inside the cottage

  The heat has relented a mite,

  the morning air does not press down

  like such a heavy weight.

  Summer’s end draws near.

  Outside,

  The men drag trunks,

  roll barrels through the village

  to the pinnace at the shore.

  It happens so suddenly,

  the shouts that pound like thunder,

  pulling all to the square.

  From the window

  I see Father,

  unsteady on his feet,

  lunging

  at

  Manteo.

  Alis

  I forget my vow to stay inside,

  race to see what happens.

  Alis

  Mr. Pratt

  and Old Lump-and-Bump

  try to restrain Father,

  but they’re no match for his fury.

  “Speak!” he yells to Manteo,

  “of the attack you’ve planned

  with the Roanoke!”

  Alis

  “I can tell you.”

  George smiles.

  Never have I seen him more satisfied.

  “Manteo meets in the forest

  with them.”

  Father’s neck is mottled red.

  “There is no reason for this boy to lie!”

  “I’ve planned no attack,” Manteo says.

  But others badger from the crowd,

  call for Manteo’s arrest.

  “You refuse to help us load the pinnace,

  insist we stay though Howe and Dare are dead.

  You want to fight with the Roanoke against us,

  rid Virginia of all Englishmen.”

  “Am I not an Englishman?” Manteo says.

  “Your hair.

  These beads about your neck.”

  Father yanks the strand.

  Shells spill to the ground.

  “No Englishman dresses this way.”

  Manteo’s teeth are clenched

  though his words are clear.

  “Do you not realize

  how much I’ve lost in joining you?

  Some here do not trust me.

  My own people

  do not understand.

  But they have not seen what I have,

  our queen,

  Elizabeth,

  the great weroansqua,

  whose power reaches across the seas.

  I can be Croatoan,

  and speak for my people.

  I can be an Englishman,

  and serve my queen.”

  “Liar!”

  Mrs. Dare shouts,

  “Spy!”

  It is George who yells the loudest,

  his features a grotesque mask of hate.

  The tumult grows,

  explodes into a frenzied chorus.

  Alis

  I set my feet wide

  to keep from being shoved about.

  Mother finds me,

  Samuel’s cries reaching hysteria.

  She pleads with me to follow,

  but I pretend I can’t hear her.

  Mr. Pratt and Lump-and-Bump

  have tied Manteo’s hands behind him.

  His head dips forward

  like a broken reed.

  I try to piece together

  what George might have seen,

  if what he said is true.

  George would gain satisfaction

  in finding reason to attack.

  At Father’s command,

  the men lead Manteo to the jail.

  How quickly Father’s found his place again.

  “Alis!” Mother calls,

  but still I will not go to her

  nor Father,

  who has sparked unrest,

  encouraged an angry boy

  to speak against Manteo,

  the one our Governor

  appointed as our leader,

  the one our Governor

  called friend.

  Alis

  I return to our cottage,

  close all the shutters

  to escape the chaos outside.

  “I called for you,” Mother says.

  I do not answer.

  “Father’s looking for the Howe boy.

  Have you seen him?”

  George is not my worry.

  I care for nothing that happens

  in this village anymore.

  Mother finds a piece of bread,

  serves me a modest portion.

  My hunger awakens.

  I’ve had nothing since breakfast.

  I do not ask of Father,

  simply reach for Samuel,

  let his steady breathing

  draw me to sleep.

  Alis

  It is Mother who awakens me

  in the mid-afternoon.

  “Please take this to your father.

  He’
s had no food since morning.”

  Within me,

  anger’s fire has diminished,

  leaving sorrow’s blackened ash.

  I hold the bread she offers,

  kiss the top of Samuel’s head.

  KIMI

  The sun escapes the clouds

  that have held it fast.

  There is change in the English camp,

  the way they move about

  like the sparrows that flock

  just to flee

  the harvest season.

  The sun journeys farther

  across the great expanse.

  The English boy

  whose hair curls at his forehead,

  like strips of peeled river birch bark,

  from behind a tree

  I see him approach,

  put down his weapon.

  In watching Alis

  I’ve come to understand

  the English coverings

  are for more than warmth and protection.

  Maybe the boy has never seen

  a woman dressed as I am.

  I cross my arms before me

  for his comfort.

  “I’ve come to speak of Alis.”

  Hope soars

  when I hear her name.

  “We know of your secret meetings.”

  He hesitates for a moment.

  “Don’t expect her again.”

  What has happened

  that she hasn’t come?

  “She is in trouble.”

  His eyes meet mine.

  In a flash he lowers his gaze.

  “I have caused her trouble.”

  I hold my fist to my chest.

  “Alis.”

  Before this English boy

  I claim her.

  “There is something else,” he whispers,

  his features sharp with pain.

  “I am sorry.”

  He covers his face.

  “I am sorry!”

  He rushes away.

  Alis

  There is one whose needs

  might have been forgotten

  in the chaos of the day.

  I cross the threshold,

  hold the bread in my outstretched hand.

  “For Manteo.”

  My voice echoes off the walls.

  Mr. Pratt wipes his bald head with a rag,

  follows me with wary eyes.

  “My mother sent me with this,” I say,

  for what is one more lie?

 

‹ Prev