“Yes. But I had to be sure you’d want me to look before I started.”
“Where?”
“In the Archive of the Lost.”
“What’s that?”
“A list of everyone who died in the technocaust. I’ll only look there if you want me to.”
My next words are less than a whisper. “I have to know.” “I understand,” Lem says. We sit silent for a long time.
Finally, Lem says, “Blake, why don’t you stay with us tonight? I can slip down and tell Erica.”
This is kind. If Lem tells her, I won’t have to repeat the story. “Thank you,” I say. When he leaves, Fraser wraps me in a blanket and gives me a cup of hot milk, which I drink before I even notice what it is.
“Why did she do it, Fraser?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me about her?”
So I do. But it’s as if I’m seeing Hilary for the first time, my own voice telling me things I always knew but never suspected. “She used to tell me how I got my name. She had a name picked out for me but I insisted I was Blay Raytee. So that’s what she called me.”
“And she said she found you? You wouldn’t pick out a name for someone you were going to find, would you?”
“No, and she gave in because she was afraid someone would hear me.”
“She knew they might be looking.”
“You’re right.’ It all makes sense. Why didn’t I see it before?”
“You had no reason to.”
Tears spill down my cheeks. “She took good care of me, Fraser. She taught me to read.” And I tell him the rest. How she died saving me from the death squad. “She took my life away and then she saved it. How do I forgive her for loving me? How can I hate her for dying for me?”
Fraser takes my hand. “It took me nearly sixteen years to forgive Lem just for not remembering me. Give yourself time.”
When I finish crying, I’m overcome with sleepiness. “I’m tired,” I say.
He puts his arm around me. “Then sleep.”
Drifting off, I think how nice it feels to sleep lying against someone again. Just like with Hilary. I know there’s something wrong with this thought, but I’m too sleepy to figure it out.
Sometime in the night, Fraser leaves me. I wake in the morning, lying on the bench alone with a pillow and blankets. How can I face the day? Then I imagine Poppy trying to cope with Violet and the other children alone. I can’t leave her to that. I slip away without waking Lem and Fraser.
Walking down the hill, I see and hear nothing. At least I have a name for the voice on the cassette. Emily Monax, a former professor of English literature. And she loved me enough to risk her life. Just like Hilary. Damn her! Why did she take me? I’d give anything to know and now I never will.
Erica is waiting for me in the kitchen alone. She hugs me.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “Maybe I should have come.”
I try to smile. “Lem and Fraser took good care of me.”
“They both love you a lot,” she says. “And so do I.”
This time, the smile comes easier. “I’ll be glad to get to work.”
“You want to work today?”
“The kids need me. It’s good to be needed.”
When we leave the house after breakfast, Erica says, “Look, it’s snowing.” Fat white flakes fill the air, exploding as they hit the ground. Winter has finally arrived.
The Winter of Our Discontent
After the excitement of the fall, winter is like a wet blanket. Everything Erica predicted comes true. There’s no sign of democracy yet. Commission-run supply lines break down as people abandon jobs that no longer pay. We work harder and have less. Walking past the wharf one day, I hear an old man grumble. “The Commission wasn’t so bad. We knew where our next meal was coming from.”
At least William is back with what Erica calls his moral authority. I never really understood his role before. Now, just a kind word from him, or a pat on the shoulder, and people stand taller and work harder. “He lightens the burden for all of us,” Erica says one day, and she’s right.
Clara’s house becomes a refuge for Donna and Marrella, alternately. They need relief from one another more than from Carson’s gloom. Lucky for me, because both are good teachers and both are willing to help me now that Clara’s patience has been exhausted. With almost constant coaching from them, I’m finally ready to attempt my first piece of weaving. One day, while helping me set up a loom, Donna says, “I’d never thought I’d speak ill of a bio-indicator, but I do all the real work. I don’t know why she comes here. She isn’t helping Carson and she certainly isn’t helping me.”
“There isn’t any change at all?”
Donna sighs. “Carson acts like we’re not even there.”
Then she smiles. “Look, Blake, you’ve got that on backward again. Take it off and turn it around.” Donna pats my hand. “I shouldn’t say this but without you, I’d probably go day to day without laughing at all.” Once this might have hurt, but we’ve all stopped pretending I can do this work.
As I finally sit down to the loom, I hear shouting. It sounds distant, so I pay no attention but Donna sits up. “That’s coming from my house,” she says. She bolts for the door and I follow. As we rush into her house we hear a crash. A dish comes flying out of a doorway. “That’s Carson’s room,” Donna says. We find Marrella taking dishes off Carson’s lunch tray and trying to smash them against the wall. Her aim is bad. She doesn’t even notice us.
“Look at me!” she yells, smashing another dish. “Just look at me. React.” She bursts into tears. “I can’t do this anymore, Carson. It’s like trying to love a block of stone.” As she picks up the one remaining dish, a mumble comes from Carson’s chair. Marrella hears it, too, and stops, the dish poised for flight in her hand. “What did you say?”
Donna and I lean forward, not daring to breathe.
Carson’s voice is weak from lack of use but his words are clear. “You deserve better.”
Marrella is still crying but I hear the relief in her voice. “I deserve better! Miss Perfect. That would be me, would it? Let me tell you something, Carson Walsh. It’s going to take you the rest of your life to figure out just how imperfect I am. Start with this.” She kneels in front of him and undoes her turban. Metres of material fall to the floor. When she’s finished, she faces him, her head more bare than his. “Look at me,” she says again, but tenderly this time.
Carson does. After a long minute, he runs his hand over the stubble on her head. “I think I met your barber,” he says.
A few weeks later, Marrella and I are walking home through a wet snow. “Donna said she would have had her own temper tantrum ages ago if she’d known how much good it would do Carson,” she tells me.
“You’re getting along better now, aren’t you? I barely see you at Clara’s anymore.”
“Everything’s easier now. Carson thinks he’s ready to go to the military hospital in Corner Brook. Do you think you could do my UV readings for a while? I’d like to go with him.”
“Of course. I’m good at that. I’ll miss you at the loom, though.”
“You’re getting better,” she says. “You’ll be fine without me.”
It’s true. It’s been days since I’ve had to undo my work and start over again. It seems entirely likely I might finish my first piece of cloth. But that doesn’t change this sudden empty feeling. “Maybe I’ll just miss you.” I sound as surprised as I feel.
“Don’t count on it. I bet Erica won’t, either,” Marrella says. She’s cheerful, though.
But when she talks to William, she hits an unexpected wall. “No,” he says. “Absolutely not.”
“But Blake can do my UV readings or you can set up that robot again.”
William forces himself to speak calmly. “Marrella, Blake didn’t pass the tests. You did. When classes start in St. Pearl next fall you’ll be there with all the others. In the meantime, we’re making up a preparatory course of stud
y. You’ll start as soon as it’s ready.”
Tears spring to Marrella’s eyes. “This is so unfair. You can’t send me to St. Pearl. What about Carson?”
“He’s doing well now. It’s only three years. He’ll wait for you.”
“Three years!” Marrella throws her napkin down and runs from the room.
After an awkward pause, I say, “Would anyone mind if I go to her?”
Erica looks relieved. “Please.”
Once again, Marrella is facedown on her bed. “It should be you,” she says into her pillow.
“I wish,” I say. “But you’re the bio-indicator.”
“This is so wrong.” I can’t argue with that. She sits up.
“Could we tell him the truth?”
“The truth? Tell him we conspired to fool him? That you became a bio-indicator because of a bunch of lies? And when we’re finished, where will we be? You’ll have no position and I’ll have no home.
Don’t even think of it.” I whisper furiously, trying not to show how scared I am. Everything I have is at risk.
“When you put it like that,” Marrella says, “it doesn’t sound like a good idea.”
“It’s not. Let me think. Maybe I can come up with something. But please don’t tell.”
“I guess I owe you that. But I’m not going to St. Pearl.” Long into the night I try to think of some way to keep Marrella out of university. I forget to worry when I’m with the kids in the morning, but the problem returns at the loom. I pass the shuttle back and forth easily. Clara comes to watch. She’s spending more time with me these days. I must have been an embarrassment to her until Donna and Marrella helped me along.
“That’s quite a respectable piece now, Blake,” she says.
“Soon, you’ll be ready for your headscarf ceremony. I remember mine. I was so happy to commit myself to the craft for the rest of my life. I think it was better than my wedding day.”
That’s what a headscarf ceremony should be, like a wedding day. Every time I think of mine, I want to cry. How can I stand up in front of everyone pretending to be happy? How can I promise to spend the rest of my life struggling with something I do so badly? I can’t. “Clara,” I say, “I just realized I have to do something. It’s urgent. Can I leave?”
Clara is surprised but she agrees. As much as I dislike this work, I’ve never asked for time off before. I go to Donna’s house. “Come on,” I tell Marrella. “We have to talk to William.”
“You’ve thought of a way out of this? Oh, Blake, you’re so clever. I knew you would.” She doesn’t even ask what I plan to do.
We have to drag William away from a science session with kids at the Grand Hotel. He doesn’t look pleased. “Couldn’t this have waited?” he asks.
“No, it couldn’t. You see, Marrella and I have lied to you. A lot.” Marrella’s mouth falls open.
William looks surprised but says, “Go on.”
It takes time to tell the whole story. I don’t spare myself or Marrella. I feel like I’m tearing my life to pieces. When I’m finished, William asks Marrella for her side of the story. She won’t look at me now but she tells the truth. Finally, William sits back in his chair, all his questions answered. He says nothing for such a long time the silence begins to seem like a punishment in itself. “This is very serious,” he finally says. His face has darkened. I can almost feel his anger.
Here it comes, I think. The end of everything. But in a small way, I feel better. At least I’m finally out from under the burden of lies.
“When I consider the mistake we almost made.” He’s yelling now. “Blake, do you know how rare it is to find someone who can pass these tests the way you did? Do you have any idea, any clue, how gifted you are? You would have thrown all that away. Why?”
The force of his anger is more than I can bear. I burst into tears. “I wasn’t,” I sob, “I’m not—the bio-indicator.” I point to Marrella. “She is.”
He looks as if I’ve gone insane. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
I’m so surprised, I stop crying. “I thought you had to be a bio-indicator.”
This gives him pause. “Of course not,” he says after a moment. “We’ve looked for intuitive learning among bio-indicators because we had access to them. I looked in Kildevil, too. We couldn’t very well look in Commission-run workcamps, could we? It has nothing to do with being a bio-indicator.”
“But you said I couldn’t have my investiture unless I passed!” Marrella is indignant now.
William looks embarrassed. “That was wrong of me. I had to get your attention somehow. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“So you lied, too. Does that mean I don’t have to go to St. Pearl?” Marrella’s ability to manipulate a situation takes my breath away.
“Marrella, you’re not allowed to go to St. Pearl,” William says but he’s smiling. “Blake’s the one who belongs in a university.”
“And what about those awful UV observations?” She can never resist pushing him.
“You are still the bio-indicator. Those observations will be with you for the rest of your life. Now you’d better leave us.” Marrella scowls, but she doesn’t waste time. For once, I wish I were the one going out the door. William sits on the edge of his desk in front of me. “How could I have been so blind? Marrella was doing so badly. The moment you came, things started to fall into place. I was too relieved to wonder why. And Erica was so happy to have a sympathetic child in the house, I let her take charge of you. I should have seen what was going on. It was my pride that blinded me. I couldn’t bear to think I might not be able to find the right kind of person. All the other Masters found at least one.
“Now you have to learn why the choices you made were the correct ones. The Way teaches us to look beyond appearances. It’s good science, too. Just as the books helped you to choose the lichen and the shrew over the asters and the moose. The most interesting things are often not the obvious ones.” He shakes his head. “I knew that and yet I didn’t see you.”
“I didn’t want you to,” I say. “I wouldn’t have become a bio-indicator. But when I found out about the education, it nearly broke my heart.”
“And you still didn’t tell me the truth.” “I thought it was too late.”
“But why did you decide to tell me now? Did Marrella make you?”
I shake my head. My cheeks burn with shame. “I am a pathetically bad weaver. I couldn’t face the headscarf ceremony.”
When I look up, he’s smiling. “Lucky for me.”
The Aeolian Lyre
On a warm afternoon in April, I put my notebook on William’s desk. “That’s it,” he says. “You’ve finished. We’ll need to find extra work for you to do over the summer.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Erica says William is working me too hard but I love it. Ideas do not tangle like yam.
I find Erica in the kitchen. She isn’t needed at the school as much now. The fighting is over, not only on the island, but everywhere. The military is slowly beginning to reorganize everything, and young recruits are helping us run the Grand Hotel. It’s just enough to ease the burden for everyone. She smiles. “Finished? Lem would like to see you. I’m coming.” Something in her voice makes my heart beat faster but I say nothing. I’ve been expecting this for months.
“Fraser still won’t talk about you going away?” she asks.
I shake my head. “He’s just afraid you’ll change,” Erica says. I don’t reply because I know that’s true. In fact, neither of us wants to talk about it. How can I tell him I won’t change when I’m not sure myself?
Lem and Fraser are sunning outside the house. “I guess you know why I asked to see you,” Lem says. My throat closes over, so I nod. “Actually, it didn’t take long to find her, Little Wheat. The Archive of the Lost is pretty straightforward. She died just a few months after Michelle.”
“They might have known each other,” Fraser says softly. “I like to think they did.”
>
All these months, I told myself I harbored no hope. Now, as the last spark dies painfully, I know I was lying. “Why did you wait to tell me?” I ask.
Erica speaks. “We’ve been looking for something else.”
“And we found it,” Lem says. “Last week, I made contact with a woman in St. Pearl, Rose Tilley. She knew your mother, Blake, in Markland. She knew her well.”
“You found someone who knew my mother? Will she talk to me?”
“More than that. She wants to meet you. When she found out you’d be coming to St. Pearl, she asked if you’d like to live with her. She says she has a lot to tell you.”
I will finally meet someone who knew my mother.
“Thank you for waiting,” I tell Lem and Erica. “This means a lot to me.”
Later, when we walk back down the hill, Erica says, “Are you all right?”
“I guess. I used to think I could never be a real person without her. You and William and Fraser and Lem have changed that. But I wish I could have known her. And I still wish I understood why Hilary took me.”
I tell myself that I’m fine but that night, for the first time in months, the dreams come back again. I am looking at the sky, with my head on my mother’s arm. Only this time, I turn my head and there she is. My mother. She smiles and says, “I would never leave you unless I had to,” in the voice I know from the recording. When I wake, I can’t recall her face but I feel as if she’s been with me.
A few days later, I’m sitting outside the Grand Hotel with Poppy and the toddlers when I see Fraser walking down the hill. He stands taller now that he’s with Lem, as if his father has given him something to reach for.
“I came to tell you there’s going to be a ceremony at the crest of the hill tomorrow. Everyone is coming.”
“Why didn’t I hear about it before?”
“Maybe it’s a surprise,” he says. He sits beside me. “How are you now?”
“A little better.” I tell him about the dream. “It helps to know I’ll meet someone who knew her.” I sigh. “I just wish I understood about Hilary.”
The Secret Under My Skin Page 21
