Kindred

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Kindred Page 7

by P. J. Dean


  Tears blurred her vision. Kindred reached for Lelaheo as he did for her.

  “I could stand here, holding you like this forever.” He held her face in his hands, brushing his lips over the lovely aspects of her visage, memorizing them. He whispered in Oneida, the things about her that he’d miss everyday. “All the delicious, distracting things I love about you—your eyes, your nose, your cheeks, your mouth.” He lifted his head, an impish grin lighting his face. “I have already kissed other parts goodbye.”

  His remark made her chuckle and lifted her mood. “Lelaheo, here is a little something to help you think of me.” She placed in his hand one of her cotton head wraps. It was neatly folded into a tight square, stuffed with lavender and sewn shut. Just past his shoulder, she saw his cousins finish loading the canoes. “I love you,” she choked out, squeezing his hand. “Be careful.”

  “I love you too,” he breathed against her temple. He pressed a packet into her hand, turned and walked swiftly toward the canoes. Kindred waved and watched until the crafts disappeared from sight. Standing on the river bank alone, she remembered the small package he’d given her and immediately opened it. Inside was Lelaheo’s bone, bead and leather Tree of Peace necklace.

  Enlightenment

  Chapter Nine

  Lelaheo peered out the carriage window as the conveyance rattled down the bumpy, Köln thoroughfare. He was accustomed to the swaying motion. Now. His ocean passage, nearly a month’s duration, had been hellish to say the least. In his close, dim cabin, seasickness had settled over him. He had spent the first week, on rubbery legs, heaving his guts out overboard. At first, he thought it was only the wretched fare he’d been consuming, but the more often he became sick he concluded it was a combination of both foul food and the foul waves. He could not sleep in his cabin, the stifling and often putrid air made it impossible. He needed to breathe, see the stars and the sky. Topside at night was where he had made his bed for the remainder of the voyage.

  The sights bombarding him as the coach rumbled along were the same as those found back home, but were magnified by the masses of people from distinct social classes. There were farmers and merchants hawking wares of all kinds, burgers strutting about in their city attire and the aristocratic element lounging in their parked carriages, directing servants to fetch this and that.

  He shared his coach with another man and two women. The graying, middle-aged man, a native of Köln and an ardent traveler, had been kind enough to converse with Lelaheo in German. Lelaheo spoke of the books he had read and the man spoke of the places in those books that he had visited. The man complimented Lelaheo on his flawless German. Lelaheo felt that he had done Dr. Twain proud. It was no small thing to have a native speaker praise a foreigner’s grasp of their language. Lelaheo immediately thought of Kindred and how excellent her Oneida was. He and the man exchanged addresses. The

  coach stopped. The man disembarked. Lelaheo tucked away the man’s card in his vest pocket.

  “Excuse me, Sir.” A distinct English accent flowed from the younger of the two women. “I did not mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you speak of New York. Do you come from there? Do you think England will let the settlers be now?” She asked earnestly and

  offered an extremely wide smile with her question.

  “I do and I don’t.” Lelaheo noted that the young woman was very attractive. Her features announced her bloodline. All straight angles. Aquiline nose. Thin lips. Her eyes were the brightest blue, her hair resembled the silk inside an ear of corn and her complexion mimicked porcelain. The scent of roses wafted from her.

  “I ask because you do not look like a … colonist.”

  “You are correct in that assumption. I am not a colonist. I was born and raised there. And so were my ancestors. I am of the Haudenausonee Confederacy. Oneida Nation, Bear Clan.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “He is a man of the red variety, dear. Look at him.” The elder woman commented without looking up from her paper. “You know, the ones we saw in that show in London last month. Buckskin, feathers, beads.” The elder inspected him over her spectacles. “Where are yours? And what are you doing here in Germany? Get separated from the traveling show?”

  “Aunt Felicity!” The young woman cried, turning even paler.

  Lelaheo shook his head. He entertained the notion that he should confirm the woman’s sentiments about him by leaping upon her and taking her scalp or at the very least hobbling her.

  “I am to attend medical school here. And did you ever stop to think that as your fellow countrymen spill over onto our shores, that one day we might return the favor?”

  The woman’s squinty eyes grew as large as saucers. “Cheeky!” she harrumphed, as she directed her gaze out the window.

  “What chance! Paul, my brother, is to attend medical school also. Excuse my bad manners. I am Miss Adeline Penvenen and this is my maiden aunt, Miss Felicity Penvenen. And you?”

  He did not know how to answer than decided. “I am Cassian Harkness. Maidenaunt, you say?” He cut a glance at the woman again. “I can not imagine why.”

  “Red and ,” the elder Miss Penvenen grumbled.

  ****

  “And bring my black shawl. The black shawl! How many times must I repeat myself. Are you deaf? I’d do better to hire a lady’s maid. At least she would come properly trained.” It was time for the mid-afternoon snack, and Aunt Felicity chided Adeline between bites of pastry and sips of coffee.

  “Why can’t you be kind to me, Aunt Felicity?” Adeline stood on the threshold of the salon of the rooms she and her aunt shared while in Köln. She was twisting the piece of clothing in question.

  “Because you look like your mother and I detest her. Do as I say. And quickly. My charity toward you and your brother is already strained. Stop staring at me with your mouth open. All innocence and helplessness. Correction. Helpless? Never. Innocent?” She perused her niece. “We know the truth, do we not, Adeline?”

  “How long are you going to toss that in my face? It was not my fault. Daniel loved me.”

  “That’s what they all proclaim when they desire something.”

  “My dear, sweet maiden aunt, how would you know? Or did something transpire to make you an expert on love and a little less maidenly?

  “I had my share of suitors, Adeline. Many came sniffing. Some for me. Most for the money. But I managed to keep my … head. The middle-aged woman held her head high, proud that that she had fought off assaults on all fronts, fiscal and fleshly. “Next time girl, remember in this order—the ceremony, then the celebration. You can hope for a man with means. What I am trying to say is, you really cannot be fussy. Never mind what he looks like or how old he is.”

  “I am to have no choice in whom I wed? I truly loved Daniel.”

  Felicity laughed aloud.

  “Adeline, stop lying. It is only you and I in this room. We both know why you allowed that drunken dullard Daniel certain ‘freedoms’. His is the wealthiest family in London, if not England.”

  “He had manners and good breeding, too.”

  “Yes, along with all that money! I have seen how your eyes light up when monetary matters are discussed. You are as your mother was, careless, short-sighted and grasping. It worked for Corelia. She trapped my brother who was, unlike your Daniel, a good man. But it was not enough for Corelia. She left my brother and her children for a richer man who in turn abandoned her.”

  “Aunt Felicity, I know the story. I am not like her. I will not repeat her mistakes. I will be happy!”

  “Ha! The odds are not in your favor, girl. Your father killed himself. I took in you and Paul. Your mother, last I heard, goes to the highest bidder. That cannot last. Hiding age with paint only works but for so long.”

  “I hate you,” Adeline hissed.

  “I am sure you do, the truth hurts. You would do well to remember that for the moment, you and Paul depend on me to live. Eventually, he will be able to provide for himself. He will be a ‘working man’, b
ut medicine is an honorable profession. You, on the other hand, have no money, no prospects and a past.”

  “Witch!”

  “I may be, but I am not the one who is desperate for a husband.”

  “I cannot go on like this!” Tears rolled down Adeline’s cheeks and splashed on the shawl she twisted. “I cannot live on your crumbs. I must have something of my own.”

  “Adeline, I do not mean to be unkind.” Her aunt rose from her chair, trod over to her and yanked the shawl from her grip. “At this season’s Christmas galas, look your most fetching. No virginal, demure, dresses. You are twenty years old. Time is fleeting. Reveal as much flesh as is legally possible, there’ll be many girls present who are younger than you. Be enticing. And remember—ceremony, then celebration.”

  Chapter Ten

  The professor of anatomy bent down to light his long pipe at the fireplace as he conversed with Lelaheo. In his late sixties, he was short but still ramrod straight. Slim, he was fanatical about his diet. His hair was a wavy brown, no gray yet. The crinkling at the

  corners of his very blue eyes and his acceptance of stiff knees, were the only outward signs that he was not a younger man. Herr Doktor Nachman ben Lazer was a study in contradictions. Though a Jew, his excellence in his field and wry humor afforded him entrée into certain levels of genteel and Gentile society in the city. He never lied about his heritage and was never silent about it. He used his ready acceptance by Gentiles as a means to fight for better treatment of other Jews at the university, whether they be instructor or student. Though he was tolerated, he was still a Jew on faculty at a university

  which made no attempt to hide its dislike for his kind. Always willing to lend a helping hand, he answered a former pupil’s plea to aid another outsider.

  “So, how are you to be called?” Herr Doktor ben Lazar asked, pulling his long robe closer around him, tying the corded sash tighter.

  “I am enrolled as Cassian Harkness, but you may address me as Lelaheo if you wish.” He fidgeted in his chair in the dark room.

  “I will call you some other choice names that come to mind if you do not apply yourself to your studies.” Herr Doktor ben Lazer stood by the fire puffing and puffing, then blew circles of smoke towards the ceiling. “Harkness? Harkness! Why this Harkness

  name? I thought you were Douglas’ charge?”

  “By the time Doctor Twain rescued me from the Reverend, I had already been christened such.”

  “I see.” The doctor drew the smoke in even harder. “So, Gisele will show you to your rooms. Get you settled. Then come back here. We will talk. Have a smoke. You do smoke?” Lelaheo nodded in affirmation. Nachman smiled. “Good. Gisele will bring coffee. We will talk some more. Then we will eat. Does that sound like something you

  would like?”

  “Yes, Herr Doktor.”

  “Good, good.” He cleared his throat, then bellowed, “Gisele!”

  “A letter from Germany,” Kindred yelled, racing into the kitchen. Joshua and Dr. Twain were at table as Rozina topped off their cups of coffee again. The beverage of choice now that tea was becoming hard to acquire. The brew chased away the late October chill which had settled upon the land. Kindred handed the packet to Dr. Twain.

  Douglas fished his glasses out of his vest pocket and ripped open the letter. He perused the contents, moving his lips as he read to himself.

  “Twain, we waitin’,” declared Rozina loudly.

  “Sorry. Lelaheo says the ocean crossing was hellish. He was seasick the entire first week.”

  “I told him to carry some ginger, but no, he said he would not get ill. Serves him right,” Joshua remarked before taking a sip from his cup.

  Shhh!” Kindred and Rozina expressed in unison.

  Dr. Twain continued.

  “He also said by the time he hopped a coach to Nachman’s, he was accustomed to the swaying motion.”

  “The future physician, sick!” Joshua interrupted again.

  “Boy, one mo’ time.” Rozina menaced him with her infamous ladle.

  “He has found his place in the household. Nachman is understanding and extremely helpful. Lelaheo sleeps with his books and Nachman quizzes him constantly and randomly. He has made a friend at the university, a young man named Paul Penvenen.” Douglas looked up from the letter, a small smile on his lips. “Lad hails from

  London. David has a sister named Adeline who visits them.”

  “How often?” asked Kindred, one eyebrow arched high.

  “Several times a week. She brings them treats and offers moral support. She is traveling with an aunt. He and David frequent the coffee houses. If it is like I remember it, the students philosophize and pontificate endlessly. I recall my student days in Köln. Oh, the public house was the place to be ....”

  “Father? The letter,” said Kindred, inclining her head at the papers he held.

  “Oh, yes. Where was I?” He shuffled the pages and cleared his throat. “Lelaheo says by the time we get this, the first round of exams will be under way. He sends Yule greetings too. He plans on spending some of the holiday break with Paul’s family in London.”

  “How much?” Kindred inquired, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.

  “The remainder he will pass studying intensely. He has enclosed separate pages for each of you.” Douglas passed out the sealed notes. “He ends with love to all and how much he misses us.” Dr. Twain stealthily combined a wiping of a tear from his eyes with the motion of removing his spectacles. “I miss that boy.”

  “We all do,” Joshua added.

  “Bin t’ree munt’,” Rozina added, sniffling.

  “Three very long months,” Kindred remarked. “I need some air.” She got up and went outside to the garden to read her note.

  Chapter Eleven

  The energy of Köln was everything Cassian imagined it would be. This former first century B.C. Roman garrison never ceased to amaze him. His favorite place was a coffee house just off the Domplatz. This huge square was home to Der Dom, the Gothic

  cathedral with the unfinished double spires. It was visible from any point in the city. He and the Penvenen siblings passed rare free hours there some evenings. Cassian welcomed these respites from the rigors of study, drills and exams. Tonight, Nachman joined them.

  “So Paul, your family is of noble stock and you are pursuing a career?” Absorbed, Nachman remarked. “I only know of one other person from such a background who has done that. Doctor Twain, Cassian’s benefactor. A generation ago.”

  “I want to contribute to humanity instead of living off of it,” said Paul.

  Nachman observed the brother and sister sitting across from him. Twins, their actions mirrored one another’s, their temperaments and miens differed greatly. The two blond heads bent toward each other had little in common, he noted. Paul was slim and tall. He had the same pale hair as his sister and the same fair complexion. Caring and generosity lived in his face. The large mouth, a rounded jaw, concave nose and wide-open eyes were traits of a giving person. Nachman felt that Paul would make an excellent

  physician.

  Adeline’s features were those of a person concerned with their lot in life. Not good, not bad. Just self-centered. Petit, voluptuous and soft described her form. Her visage announced that she either was sizing up a person, or distrusted a person. She squinted like a marksman, as if she had something forever in her sights. Unlike her

  brother’s nose, Adeline’s was straight, her mouth was small with a short upper lip, she had an angular jaw line. This girl was not the shy, retiring type he mused.

  Cassian sat quietly rubbing his eyes and temples gingerly. The din of the clientele usually invigorated him, but tonight it irritated him. He was still recovering from last night’s kölsch drinking contest with Paul and some other students. He had barely made it to the anatomy lecture this morning. Nachman was none to happy when Paul heaved him through the door very late in the evening. But with all the pressure of classes, exams an
d “setting an example”, he needed a diversion. A cheap, tasty diversion. When he was being just as silly, irreverent and witty as anyone else, he was not “that red foreigner from across the ocean.” His system did not like it. And let him know. When he had a little too much, he got sick and passed out after. The former was just plain distasteful, the latter unsettling. He had passed out last night and on one other occasion prior to that. He

  promised himself in future that he would finish his evenings with coffee only.

  “Douglas wanted to help humanity a generation ago,” added Cassian. “It is reassuring to know some things do not change.”

  “I had forgotten that Doctor Twain comes from a wealthy, I mean, well-to-do, old family,” Adeline observed. “Is he married? The remaining Twains are still socially prominent.”

  “Medicine is his wife. You have seen or met his relations?” Cassian perked up.

  “They believed he was wasting his life. Shame. He is a successful physician and businessman. Twainhaven turns a profit every year. Douglas could give up medicine and only run the farm and he would still want for nothing. Twainhaven is our inheritance.”

  “Our inheritance?” Adeline inquired.

  “Me, Rozina, Kindred, Joshua. And all our legal heirs in perpetuity.”

  “You are unusual Cassian. The first of your people to come to Europe. To be educated in Western ways. To attend medical school. There is no end to what you could accomplish.” Adeline picked at the apple pastry on her plate “You are too modest. What is Twainhaven worth exactly? The … colonials have no problem with … you owning

  land?”

  Herr Doktor ben Lazer’s brows lifted into his hairline, but he remained quiet.

  Cassian chuckled.

  “Worth? I do not know. I am not good at such things.” He swirled the last of his coffee around in the cup. “Are you asking do the colonists object to me acquiring land which had been my people’s anyway?”

  “Cheeky,” said Paul.

 

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