The Mirk and Midnight Hour

by Jane Nickerson

  The drumming ceased suddenly and the two dancers dropped to the ground, seeming to melt into it.

  I was left limp and exhausted. Sparrow’s breath was heaving.

  The men and Amenze rose and with that familiar smooth, boneless VanZeldt stride made their way up to the thrones. The old woman held a carved cup, which she handed first to one, then to another, and each took a sip. They laughed and drank more.

  No one doused the fire. Dr. VanZeldt and the old woman stood, and the menservants hefted the straw chairs. I waited while they all disappeared from view.

  As soon as they were gone, I pulled Seeley and Sparrow deeper into the trees. I sank to my knees and put my hands on Sparrow’s shoulders. “What are you doing out so late?”

  She did not answer me.

  “Is she all right?” Seeley whispered.

  Sparrow’s head drooped. Tears shone on her cheeks. “So beautiful,” she breathed.

  “They were the People Things,” Seeley said. “They were beautiful, but you shouldn’t ought to have tried to dance with them.”

  “People Things,” she said. “Why was I a-scared of them before?”

  I spoke with difficulty. “We don’t know what they are. They may be very, very bad. You mustn’t ever go near them again, you hear?”

  The moon was reflected in her eyes as she arose. “If them drums call, I got to answer. I got to.”

  I clutched her hands tightly as I looked her in the face. “You don’t have to. We’re going to walk you partway home now, Sparrow.”

  After a bit she nodded. I took both the children’s hands and we made our way through the trees. At first Sparrow dragged, still bewitched. Gradually, though, her steps lightened, and soon she was leading us, tugging at my hand.

  I asked my question once more. “What were you doing out so late?”

  “ ’Twas the moonlight,” she said. “It seemed almost daytime. And then I could feel the drums even before I could hear them, so I went further than I meant to.”

  I was glad she didn’t ask what we were doing out in the night. I didn’t want to explain that Seeley and I were about to go to the Lodge without her.

  “Will you go straight home if we leave you now?” I asked.

  “Yes’m.”

  The moment I dropped her hand, she was off twining through the trees so swiftly that she probably didn’t hear Seeley say softly, “Good night, Sparrow.”

  We hurried to the Lodge, not even considering that, because of the lateness of the hour, we should have headed home. More than ever, the Lodge resembled a fairy-tale cottage as it stood bathed in moonlight. We stumbled through the front room. I paused inside the doorway to Thomas’s chamber.

  There he lay asleep, a bar of moonlight from the window shining across his face. He looked younger and more vulnerable, somehow softer than when he was awake.

  Seeley gave me a little push.

  “Thomas,” I whispered.

  He scrambled to sit up. “Violet?”

  “Yes,” I said, “it’s us. Don’t worry. There’s no emergency. I don’t really know why we’re here, but we are.”

  He laughed a sleepy laugh. “Welcome.”

  “We saw the VanZeldts dance,” Seeley said.

  “You what?”

  “Just now,” Seeley said, “in the clearing with the fire. We hid behind trees while the VanZeldts jumped around to the drums. Sparrow was there too.”

  “Sparrow?” Thomas said sharply.

  “Yes,” I said. “She must have been wandering close enough that the music drew her there. I don’t know what to do about it. What if she begins to seek them out?”

  “You must warn her grandmother,” Thomas said.

  His calm, quiet tone eased my jangled nerves. “You’re right. I’ll visit Anarchy tomorrow.”

  He yawned and stretched. “I must have sensed the rhythm in my sleep. Dreamed I was dancing.” He leaned forward. “Will you help me get up? All I can make out is your silhouettes. Let’s go outside, where I can see you better.”

  I gripped his arm and heaved to help him rise. He was nearly standing when his legs gave way; he fell back on his bed, and I tumbled on top of him. I would have scrambled off, but his arms held me tightly.

  “Are you all right?” I cried. “Did I hurt you?”

  “I’m very all right. How about you?”

  Seeley snorted. “You’re both fine. Here, let me help this time.”

  I rolled off and we moved awkwardly out of the Lodge, arms entwined. Through the distant trees the bonfire still winked.

  “Let’s go back over there,” Seeley said. “I want Thomas to sit by the fire.”

  “I don’t guess they’ll be coming again tonight,” I said doubtfully. “And they couldn’t see the fire from Shadowlawn.” I looked at Thomas and then quickly away because his face was so very close, with his dark hair curled around his ears in an especially enticing manner. “Can you make it that far?”

  “Where are my sticks?”

  Seeley hurried to fetch them.

  And so, beneath the sharp sparkle of stars, we made our way to the clearing, where the blaze had died down to low flames licking black logs. The great tree loomed above us, its trunk and leaves pale and unearthly, outlined with moon silver. Seeley dashed in and out of the edge of the trees, gathering brushwood to toss in and build up the fire. I, meanwhile, helped Thomas lower himself to the ground with his back against a trunk a ways from the ring of stones, where we wouldn’t be too hot. I settled down beside him, trying to arrange my frilled petticoat and hoop and skirt to one side. I had forgotten I was still wearing the blue taffeta, which was hopelessly splattered and snagged by now.

  “Hoopskirts,” I said, “are not made for sitting on the ground.”

  “They look nice, though,” Thomas said. “And you look especially pretty in that dress. Your cousin and all the Sece—soldiers at the dance must have thought so too.”

  I smiled toward the darkness. “Well, I did dance all the dances. But then, there were a lot more men than women, so that’s not saying much.”

  “No. Admit it—they were vying for your attention. I’m just glad I wasn’t there to have to share you.”

  “We left early, actually, and it was a good thing because Seeley was fixing to come here all by himself. I caught him just as he was about to climb in the canoe.”

  “Well, I’m sorry your fun was cut short, but I’m glad you came.”

  I gave a happy little sigh. “This is exactly where I want to be.”

  Thomas’s fingers lay close to mine on the ground and I was acutely aware of them. My hand felt twitchy, drawn to his. I fought it.

  “You should’ve seen the VanZeldts dance,” I said. “The picture of pagan and free and glorious. Compared with them, our finicky, stodgy motions at the bazaar seem absurd. There needs to be another word for what they did, if reels and waltzes are called ‘dancing.’ ”

  “If I hear the drums again, maybe I’ll sneak near enough to watch.”

  “Too risky. We shouldn’t have done it.”

  Once the fire was going well, Seeley settled himself down cross-legged beside us. “Tell us a campfire story, Thomas.”

  “The night does call for it, doesn’t it?” Thomas seemed to consider. “Do you want to hear how one time Heath Blackstock was nearly the main dish of the fat dragon Nebo? Or how long ago I stole a fairy princess from the cave of a demon king and lived to tell the tale?”

  Seeley laughed. “How did you do that when you were busy grading lessons at school?”

  “During recess, of course. But you’re right. I’m remembering it wrong—it was actually the princess who rescued me; it wasn’t a cave, it was a lodge; and it wasn’t all that long ago.”

  Seeley jumped up again. “The dragon one, but not yet. The fire’s not big enough. I want it as high as the VanZeldts had it.”

  “How far is Shadowlawn from here?” Thomas asked.

  “About a mile,” I answered. “No one there would be able to s
ee it. Especially with the forest between.”

  Seeley scurried off into the shadows and soon returned with an armful of branches. Spurts of red-gold shot upward as he tossed them in. He took a long pole that was leaning against a tree and poked at the coals. There was something primitive and otherworldly about Seeley there, with his pointed chin and tense, sharp-edged body in the wriggling firelight.

  I leaned forward. “Look at him. He could be an elf or a godlet stirring a cauldron, couldn’t he?”

  Thomas didn’t answer. I glanced back. His eyes followed my cousin, but the expression on his face showed that his thoughts were elsewhere. I wanted to know what he was thinking, but I didn’t dare ask.

  He felt my gaze and turned. His eyes shone darkly. He shifted and his hand touched mine. Neither of us pulled away. I scarcely breathed. He slid his fingers through mine.

  We sat in silence. Maybe the air still held fumes from the VanZeldt herbs. Maybe that lent to the magic. The night was full of an eerie beauty as the great darkness closed around. When I tore my eyes from the fire, I could look up, up, up into the incredible vastness of the universe. It made me dizzy, and my head swam so that I swayed. Next thing I knew, Thomas had drawn me close and his arms were so tight I could feel his heart pounding. He kissed me, hesitantly at first, but then long and sweet and soft. Just a little salty. It felt as if I were soaring upward with the sparks, a part of the vastness. I wanted to memorize this moment, this first time.

  We finally drew slightly apart. He brushed my hair back from my ear so he could whisper, “You know I love you.”

  “I hoped so,” I said softly. “I didn’t know, but I hoped so.”

  He stroked my back, and that place tingled warm. I was no “ice maiden” now. I raised my face so he could kiss me again, and he did.

  After a while I managed to pull away enough to murmur, “I love you too.”

  The next time we parted for breath, I whispered, “I have never said those words to another person and I have never kissed another man.”

  “I’m glad.”

  I wondered how many girls he had embraced.

  “You’re probably wondering,” he said, “so I’ll tell you the truth—it was my first kiss too. Which is surprising, old as I am. I never had much time for romance before. I wanted to be in love for it, so I waited until I was in love.”

  “Good.” Sunny had desired an experienced man. I was the opposite. I wanted Thomas to learn right along with me. I wanted him just as he was. And our first-time kiss had been flawless.

  “Is the beard unpleasant to you?”

  “Everything about you is perfect.”

  “Well, hopefully you’ll like me just as well when I’m not so bushy,” he said. “And this is awfully unromantic, but I’m glad there was a toothbrush and tooth powder with the other things you brought me.”

  I giggled. “Me too.”

  “Part of the reason I haven’t wanted to leave this place, that I haven’t been anxious to heal completely, is that I don’t ever want to be far from you. I don’t want this time to end.”

  “Nor do I, but I know it can’t last forever. I’m both happy and sad that you’re doing so well. Another few weeks and it’ll be time for you to go, even though I don’t like to think of it.”

  “As soon as I can, I’ll come back for you.”

  This was serious. For just a moment I was frightened by the grown-up thing he was saying, but then the fear ceased and only joy remained. I traced the line of his jaw with my finger and was amazed at my own boldness. “There’s so much we don’t know about each other. You don’t even know my favorite color.”

  He bent his head to kiss the center of my palm. “Blue.”

  “You’re just guessing that because of this dress, but yes, it is. The shade like shot silk, where the color looks blue in one light or lavender or silver when the silk ripples in another light. And I bet yours is blue too.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Only because anytime I’ve ever known a gentleman’s favorite color, it’s always been blue.”

  “I don’t need to know every single detail about you, Violet, because I know you. Your soul shines through. I’m the luckiest fellow in the world, my shining girl.”

  “And I’m the luckiest girl.” I snuggled up against him. “So tell me, what was your favorite plaything when you were little?”

  We murmured back and forth. He bent his neck so that our foreheads rested against each other, and I nestled within the circle of his arms. When Seeley finally noticed, from across the fire, he grinned with satisfaction, as if our coming together was an enchantment he’d cast.

  He loves me.

  A sweetness swept through me the moment I awoke the next morning. My mouth couldn’t stop curving upward. I couldn’t run off to Thomas until I had paid a visit to Anarchy, but the minute that was accomplished …

  Before going downstairs, I quickly scrawled an entry in my journal so I would remember the date. I didn’t dare even mention Thomas’s name in case someone somehow found it; I wrote only of my delight in my lovely secret.

  Laney noticed my general glow at breakfast. “Those must have been some mighty fine dreams you had last night.”

  “The best.” I touched my lips and then slathered molasses over a biscuit. Why did I feel ravenous when people in love were supposed to shun food? Maybe that was those poor, unfortunate girls in unrequited love. “In fact, I’m so cheerful you may have to begin calling me Sunny Junior or Sunny the Second or something like that.” I took a big bite.

  As if on cue, Sunny Senior breezed in, decked out in a smart, plum-colored traveling ensemble. “I declare,” she said, pulling on her gloves, “I’m itching so bad to get out of this war-weary-dreary place and over to somewhere civilized I can’t even tell you. Maybe I won’t come back. Take care of Mama if you never see me again.” She tweaked my hair.

  “You do realize that the civilized territory you’re entering is Yankee-occupied?” I asked.

  “Yes, I know, I know.” Sunny waved her hand dismissively. “But can’t you at least allow me to enjoy buying some fun things we haven’t been able to get for ages? Don’t worry, Vi-let. I was jesting; I will return, and I’ll bring back all sorts of boring Confederate boots dangling from my hoops, so I am doing my itty-bitty part for the Cause.”

  “Come on, Sunny,” Dorian called from the hall. “We need to get going if we’re to make it back before midnight. And it’s best to catch the pickets early.”

  Sunny’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, the danger of it all. Wish me luck.”

  She pranced off before I could wish it.

  Laney and I shook our heads.

  “Bless her heart,” Laney said.

  “Bless her heart.” As I finished a second biscuit, I tried to decide how much to tell Laney. I had to let her know about meeting Sparrow because she’d probably learn of it sooner or later. However, I didn’t want to make too much of it, or more mysteries might get revealed. There were getting to be more and more secrets between Laney and me, which was distressing, but I couldn’t share them. “By the way, I’m fixing to go over to Anarchy’s. Seeley and I have run into Sparrow a couple times recently and I’m a little worried; Anarchy doesn’t keep her close enough. Not with the VanZeldts and the war dangers all around.”

  Laney wrinkled her nose. “That wild child won’t come to any harm. She’s more at home in the woods than in her own bed. Aunty would never cage her up. Go talk to her if you want, but it won’t do any good.”

  “You don’t want to come, do you?” I hoped she wouldn’t. More explanations might be required.

  Laney hesitated. “Nope,” she said finally. “Cubby’s a mite puny today. I’d best keep him inside. Tell her hello from me and that I’ll come see her soon.”

  I found Anarchy in the middle of her herb garden, stooped over mint plants, cutting sprigs and dropping them in a bag. The clearing seemed full of light, with the sun overhead now. The air was heavy with scent and buzzing with fa
t, happy bees.

  Winding grass paths led to Anarchy, edged by rosemary bushes, lavender, and marigolds. She straightened with a discernible crack from her back and gave a delighted cackle when she saw me. “That you, li’l Miss Violet?”

  “It is. How are you, Anarchy?”

  “I feels right pert. You come for herbs or just a little visit?”

  “I need to talk to you about something.” I glanced around. “Is Sparrow here?”

  Anarchy wagged her head. “That baby gal ain’t never here. No, sir. She come in late last night and runned off early this morning. She be magic with the wild animals. Gots an old, wise, healing spirit to her. I don’t never know what she’s going to bring home next. Foxes, possums …” Anarchy’s wiry frame stiffened with pride. “Finds hurt critters and fixes them. Knows all the cures. Even some I don’t know. You got any squirrels needs fixing?”

  “No, ma’am. But if our Goblin gets torn up in another fight, I’ll be sure to bring her to Sparrow.”

  “Here”—she indicated a rough wooden bench against the wall of her little house—“set yourself down. Don’t mind me keeping on snipping—got to labor while the sun shines—but you go on and talk. No, don’t try to help. I got my own way of doing things. You want a little mint to chew? Cleans the teeth. That be why I still got my own.” She grimaced to show crooked yellow teeth.

  I smiled and accepted a pinch of the green leaves. Anarchy was the sort of person you had to smile at, with her clear, bright bird eyes and sticklike limbs, her iron-colored corkscrews of hair bobbing beneath a scarlet silk turban, and her giant, brightly flowered calico apron that seemed to have swallowed her whole. Once, when I asked her how old she was, she had made some quick calculations with her twisted fingers and said, “I be over ninety, but don’t know exactly how far over. Don’t matter none, anyhow; I reckon the good Lord done forgot I is still here and He’s going to leave me forever.”

  I rolled the mint between my fingers. “I hope Sparrow didn’t run back to where she was last night.”

  “What you mean, ‘where she was last night’?” Anarchy gave me a sharp look. “How’d you know where she was at?”