With a hey, ho, the wind and the rain, For the rain it raineth every day!
"A celebration! But what is the cause, MamaT Papa asked, but with a twinkle in his eye that said he knew very well.
"For Ben," Mama said. "She has become a woman today—a very young one, but a woman nonetheless, for she
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woke to the beginning of her first period this morning."
All the children cheered, and little Finny, not understanding, cheered right along with them, banging her spoon on her high-chair tray. The cheering turned into singing:
At last she has come to woman's estate, With a hey, ho, the wind and the rain! May thieves and knaves never be her fate, For the rain it raineth every day!
Bedtime was nice; Rhea gave Finny her bath and made sure she washed behind her ears, then Mama herself tucked the little girl in and told her a bedtime story. Finny looked away, though, frowning.
44 What is it, Finny?" Mama asked. *'Are some of the other children thinking nasty thoughts again?"
Reluctantly, Finny nodded.
"Everybody does, now and then," Mama assured her. "Even the nicest people have bad days sometimes. Just close your mind to them."
"How do I do that, Mama?"
But Mama only said, "Rhea will tell you how," then leaned down to kiss Finny*s forehead and stood up.
Finny wondered why Mama didn't tell it herself.
Rhea sat down at Finny's bedside. "Pay no attention to the angry or spiteful thoughts. Finny."
Finny frowned a moment, then shook her head. "Doesn't work."
"Of course not," Rhea said. 4 Tf I tell you not to think of an apple, what's the first thing that comes to mind?"
There it was in her mind's eye, a big, ripe, delicious apple. Finny grinned. 44 Apple!"
4 *Of course," Rhea said, smiling, 44 so instead of thinking about apples, think about pears."
Finny frowned, not understanding, but the ripe, golden pear was there in her mind.
'*And while you're thinking about the pear," Rhea explained, "you don't think about the apple, do you?"
Finny stared in surprise, then giggled and shook her head.
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4 'And while we've been talking about apples and pears, you haven't noticed the nasty thoughts, have you?"
Finny's eyes grew round; so did her mouth.
"That's how you block them out long enough to fall asleep," Rhea explained. 'Think about the warm and loving thoughts all around you, think about apples or pears—or sing a song in your head, something you really like, and sing it over and over until you fall asleep."
Finny gazed up at her wide-eyed, thumb in her mouth.
Rhea gently pulled her thumb out. "You're a little too old to need that anymore, dear. Think you can sleep now?"
Finny nodded.
"Good night, then." Rhea kissed her forehead, then stood up and went away.
Finny rolled over on her side and closed her eyes, thumb going back in her mouth again without really thinking about it—because she was already thinking about the rain, with a hey and a ho.
When that I was and a little tiny girl, With a hey, ho, the wind and the rain, Foolish things were all a-whirl, And the rain it raineth every day!
It didn't really rain every day, of course, but even when it did, there was plenty to do indoors, more and more as Finny grew older. The cleaning, canning, and cooking always went on, and there were chores enough in the bam and henhouse— but when chores were done, there was chess and backgammon and whist, all manner of games. The girls weren't allowed to move the pieces with their hands, of course—though the poor, silly boys had to, not being able to move things with their minds. They resented the girls for it but made up for it at games like hide and seek, where they could disappear and appear in another place. The girls showed off on their nighttime broomstick rides to get even. They all had to use their hands lor outdoor games with balls and sticks, though. Finny never understood why the girls were allowed to use their hands on some games and not on others. Perhaps it was
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because some involved sticks. She noticed that if they were supposed to hit the ball with a stick, they had to move that stick with their minds. If there were no sticks, though, they could hit the ball with their hands as well as their minds—in fact, they weren't allowed to use their minds alone.
There were races and wrestling and boxing, too, though after a girl's body started developing curves, she had to stop wrestling and content herself with boxing and karate—or quarterstaves; they all practiced with quarterstaves, though they were allowed to use their minds to strengthen their own blows and weaken their opponents' strikes. They practiced archery, too, of course, directing the arrows with their minds, though it was their arms that had to pull the bows. Finny liked hide and seek best. She was very good at making the others think she was a rock or a stump or even a dog, so good that even her foster brothers and sisters couldn't always see through her disguise. She couldn't understand why—all she had to do was think of the form she wanted to appear to be, then try to think as that form thought (or failed to), and the others took the longest time to find her. Mama and Papa noticed and praised her for it. She changed shapes whenever she could after that, especially when it came to getting out of chores. As she grew older, she had more and more chores to do—but hiding never worked; if she wasn't there when she was needed, she lost her dessert to someone who had worked harder. Sometimes she even had only half portions for dinner.
Another problem with growing was that other people's jealous and petty thoughts began to clamor as loudly as their warm and loving ones. The older girls taught her how to pay attention to thoughts she wanted to hear and ignore ones that she didn't. But impatient thoughts grew more frequent as she grew older and the warm and loving thoughts became more and more rare, especially Mama's. Her fond thoughts seemed to center on the babies—the new foundlings and the toddlers. Finny grew very jealous of the babies, especially since Mama never seemed to tuck her in anymore—she was always rocking or feeding one of the tiny ones. One night when Mama paid her no attention, she couldn't get to sleep for the anger and finally realized that if the baby weren't there, Finny might
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become more important to Mama again. So she reached out to the baby with her mind to look inside it and see if there were some way she could make it go away. . . .
Sudden, blinding pain seared inside her head, and voices echoed there, stern and scolding.
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The voice was Beri's with Rhea's and Umi's behind it:
No, Finny! You must never hurt anyone unless Mama tells you to!
Finny cried out in fright—then a bigger fright as a huge, horrible ogre seemed to stalk into her mind. She could see the hag very clearly, huge muscles bulging under dirty blouse and red plaid kilt, dark jowls and little piggy eyes under an unruly thatch of hair, club upraised in her hand, booming, / am the Hurter! Where 9 s the foolish girl who likes to hurt people?
Finny shrank down in her blankets, too frightened to cry.
Then the ogre was gone, there was only a pinkish light in her mind, and Dory was beside her, stroking her forehead and saying, "It's just a bad dream, Finny, but that's what you look like inside when you think about hurting one of us. Never even think about it again." And she crooned a lullaby, soothing the five-year-old to sleep.
Finny didn't stop being angry, of course, or stop wanting to hurt the babies who were her rivals—but she never tried to do anything about it again, especially since it was quite clear that when the older girls gave her orders, those orders really came from Mama. But Dory and the other big girls loved the tiny ones, cuddling them and singing to them and playing with them when there was time, and Finny loved Dory and Rhea and the others. She began to feel guilty about hating the babies.
"Don't worry about it, Finny," Agnes assured her as they were hoeing the pea patch. She was an eight-year-old,
and
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Finny's favorite playmate. "I hated you when I was five and Mama was making such a fuss over you."
Finny dropped her hoe, turning to stare at the bigger girl. " You hate me? But. . . but I thought..."
"Oh, I love you now!" Agnes dropped her hoe, too, and turned to hug the younger girl. "But I didn't when I was only five. I was very angry because Mama was so busy with you that she didn't seem to have much time for me anymore. But as you grew older, you were such a happy and loving little darling that I couldn't stay angry with you, and you wound up being my favorite toy."
"Toy?" Finny stared up at the bigger girl even as she relaxed into her embrace.
"Of course, my toy, 'cause I played with you all the time. Then you got big enough to play back, and now we're playmates. Don't worry, you'll wind up liking the new one, too."
Finny did, but it took a few years and, in the meantime, she didn't want Agnes to be ashamed of her or to have the big girls scold her, so she began to learn how to hide her anger and hatred from them. Every now and then, she slipped; her anger at the babies showed enough for one of the big girls to feel it, and the Hurter would come stomping through her head, making it ache from side to side—so she learned how to hide her feelings more deeply.
At least the punishment told her that the older girls were always paying attention to her. In fact, there was always somebody to play with, somebody to talk to, and somebody to listen to her troubles—but that somebody wasn't Mama, at least not very often. Sometimes she wondered if Mama had forgotten about her and did something naughty where Mama could see. The punishment was quick, but at least she knew Mama was watching.
It worked better when Mama told her to do something; when she did it, Mama would give her a quick hug or a pat on the curls. Most of the time, though, she left Finny to the big girls, and they were even more strict than she was about making sure Finny obeyed.
Then one day when she was churning cream, she stumbled
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and the churn started to fall. In a panic, she reached out with her mind and pulled it upright.
"Why, Finny, how very clever!"
Finny looked up, heart pounding.
Mama stood there, beaming down at her. "Did you catch the churn with your mind? How deft you've become!" She bent to kiss Finny on the forehead. "There's my wonder girl!"
Finny's heart sang. "I could push the dasher with my mind, too, Mama."
"Yes, you could, but your arms would grow weak," Mama said, still beaming. "Besides, ordinary things like churning aren't so amazing. It's being able to think and act on the spur of the moment that's wonderful." She gave Finny a quick hug. "Extra dessert for you tonight, young lady."
It was the first time Mama had called her a young lady.
From that time onward approval was rarely given, and was generally reserved for psionic feats exceptionally well done. Doing chores was expected and not celebrated, but if she didn't do them, punishment was quick.
The older girls put the younger ones in their places beyond the slightest shred of doubt. Hair would pull itself, skirts would blow up when the boys were near, noses would tweak themselves painfully, sticks would leap up to trip you. The worst was the nightmare in which an older girl would turn into a monster and chase you and chase you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't wake up. Finny learned to obey very quickly, and though Mama and Papa couldn't hear her thoughts, there were always older sisters who could, and who took care of the punishments themselves.
Mama and Papa never knew about that, of course. She tried telling them once, but Mama only looked sad. "What did you do before your hair pulled itself, Finny?"
Finny clasped her hands behind her back and watched her toe while she made it trace circles on the floor.
"The big girls wouldn't have made your hair hurt if you hadn't made them angry," Papa said. "What did you do?"
"Agnes told me to go back along the row and hoe the weeds I'd missed," Finny said grudgingly.
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"And did you do it?"
"No," Finny admitted.
"What did you do?" asked Papa.
"Told her she wasn't Mama," Finny grumbled.
"Now, that was wrong, Finny," Mama said. "When any of the older girls gives you an order, they're giving it for me—unless they order you to do something you're not supposed to do."
"The older you grow, the more people you can order," Papa agreed.
Finny decided she didn't like order very much.
"Dory gives orders to Rhea and Rhea, gives orders to Orma, and so on down the line," Mama told her. "Any of them can give orders to you, and I expect you to obey them. Do you understand?"
"Yes'm," Finny muttered, still tracing circles with her toe. Inside, a rebellious voice shouted, It's not fair!
"Don't worry, little one." Papa patted her on the shoulder. "When you grow to be big, you can give orders, too. For a year, you'll even be the oldest girl in the house, and you'll be able to give orders to any of the other girls!"
That was a nice thought. Finny looked up at Papa with adoring eyes and decided that someday she'd be the person who got to give orders to everybody else.
Little children accept what they're told is the order of the world, but as they grow, they begin to wonder about it. One day when the heat and humidity were oppressive, Finny stopped gathering berries and started to take off her dress. She might have succeeded, but Orma was in the next row and saw her. "Finny! You put that right back on!"
"But it's so much cooler without it," Finny whined.
"You'll get a sunburn without it, too," Orma said, "and it makes my heart ache to hear you crying. Put it back on, Finny."
Finny did, grumbling, "Why do we have to work, anyway?"
"Because if we don't work, we won't have anything to eat," Agnes said, proud of knowing something Finny didn't.
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Finny felt a moment of pure hatred for the older girl, then a deep shame, for Agnes had said she loved Finny.
"You should feel ashamed," Orma said. "After all, you know more than the younger children, too—and she's right. If we don't help Papa plow and sow seeds, there won't be any wheat or barley. If we children don't plant potato eyes, there won't be any potatoes."
"But the hens will keep laying!"
"Only if we take care of the hens—and take care of the pigs and the sheep, too, or there won't be any meat to eat. Then we have to salt it and smoke it, and can the fruits and vegetables, or there won't be any food left to eat in the winter."
Understanding burst in Finny's mind. "That's right! We have to put seeds in the ground if we want wheat to reap in the fall!"
"And if we don't reap it and bind it and thresh it, it will rot in the fields." Orma nodded, happy that her little foster sister understood. "And if you don't go to school, you'll never learn enough to help make the King and Queen go away."
Finny had already started school, and learned about all the horrible things the King and Queen did, such as taking people's money and making laws to keep them from doing what they wanted and starting wars. She didn't understand how learning how to add and subtract was going to help get rid of the King and Queen, but she did understand that she had to learn to read if she wanted to know what people long ago had done to try to do away with crowns and how the Kings and Queens had stopped them. Of course, she'd have to learn to write if she wanted to be able to let people who came after her know what she had done for the fight in her own turn.
Somehow getting credit for what she did do seemed more important than letting other people know what didn't work. She liked it when people praised her, and since it didn't happen very often, she was trying to figure out every way she could of winning that praise.
Mama taught them in school that winning was very important, because they all had to try to win against the King
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and Queen, and that w
as very hard, because the King and Queen were very rich and had very, very many soldiers. They even had mind readers like Finny and her foster brothers and sisters helping them. Finny hated those other mind readers; they should all have been on the same side. Mama taught her a nice word for those royal mind readers: "traitors."
She also told them never to let the people in town know that they were planning to get rid of the King and Queen. Nobody had ever broken that rule, so the villagers thought Mama and Papa were fine people, generous and caring, because they took in so many unwanted children and taught them to work hard and even to read and write and cipher, which meant they would be able to earn a living without taking jobs away from anyone else.
The villagers didn't seem to have taught that to their own children, though. Finny remembered her first trip to town. She was very excited and could hardly hold still as Dory herself tied her bonnet on. "You have to remember now, Finny," she warned, "don't let those village children get you angry. Promise me that no matter what they say, you won't let them hear your thoughts or try to hurt them, no matter how badly you want to."
That took some of the excitement out of it. Finny stilled, staring up at her big sister round-eyed. "I promise, Dory."
"And you must promise me never, never to let anyone outside the house know that you can read minds or move things with your thoughts."
Finny stared. "Why not?"
"Because most people can't do it, and if they find out we can, they'll grow jealous and even afraid of us, and try to hurt us for it. Promise, now."
"I promise," Finny said, but the day seemed dimmer, somehow. She felt as though she had done something wrong already.
Then they went out and climbed into the wagon, though, and the excitement came back. Finny couldn't keep still; she found herself dancing. Dory laughed with joy to see her and drummed her heels in time to Finny's steps.
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Finny had never seen so many houses so close together, and never any so tall. She clung tightly to Orma's hand as she looked about her, inhaling the mixture of strange fragrances and seeing all the bright and enticing things on the stands under the awnings along the streets. She could tell the lumpy green and yellow things were vegetables and the red and green ones were fruit, but she didn't know what to make of the stiff, colorful bundles in a third stall. "Orma. what's those?" She pointed.
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