Season of Hytalia

by Jennifer Arntson

  I whipped around and slugged him in the arm. He laughed as we wrestled playfully in each other’s arms. Tickling my ribs, he made me squirm and giggle, but I couldn’t break free from his hold. His teasing continued until my legs buckled, and I yelped. We lost our balance and fell to the floor laughing, with me on top of him. I gathered some loose hay and sprinkled it over his head.

  He shook it off and grabbed my hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

  I believed his sincerity. “I’ll try.” I smiled, leaning down to kiss him.

  The door of the barn opened, and Marsh saw us in our compromising position. “Ergh.” He turned away.

  I sprang up, feeling slightly embarrassed.

  Calish stood. “Did Father send you, or did you come by to be a nuisance?” he asked, pulling me to his side.

  “This—” he pointed to us “—is just gross.”

  “Huh. Then you’re not going to like this either.” He tilted me backward and kissed me deeply. Our brother grunted and left, slamming the door on his way out. Calish set me upright, laughing at our brother’s reaction. “Guess I better get going.” He gave me one last quick peck on the lips before jogging out to meet up with him and Father.

  Smiling, I gathered the hay I’d come for and headed to the rabbit hutch. Calish secured the rain gear and back sack my father had set out on the porch for him. Seeing me there, he winked as he adjusted the straps over his shoulders.

  “Hey, why don’t you take Rebel?” I suggested. “That way you can spend more time fishing, less time walking?”

  Calish seemed to agree. “I can hook him up to the cart real quick.”

  Father nodded. “Marsh, go get it out from under the trees. Calish, you get the horse.”

  “I expect all of my clothes to be washed when I get back,” Marsh demanded with his finger pointing at me.

  “We’ll see about that,” I joked, continuing to the rabbit hutch.

  As Calish readied Rebel, I fed the rabbits. Before I opened the cages, the animals scurried to the farthest corners, piling up against one another with wildly twitching noses. They panted harder as I unlatched the door, and I’m pretty sure I heard one scream. I didn’t torture them any more than necessary. In the past, I would have removed one to snuggle. The days of forcing my love upon them were over. I guess it was all for the best; my mother and I had a mountain of laundry to do. Since the men wouldn’t be out all day, we opted to start early. The house would be crowded with the drying lines run up. With any luck, the wash would be nearly dry and ready to be taken down by the time they returned from the river.

  Back at the house, my mother was already running twine through the metal loops fastened to the front and back walls of the house. When in use, the hanging lines zigzagged across the house from the edge of the loft all the way to the door. The house always felt smaller with drying laundry strung across it. As Mother finished preparing the line, I added two logs to the fire to heat up the house. Clothes dried faster in the dry air than in the humidity of Hytalia.

  It had not rained yet this morning, but the buckets I left out were filled to their brim. While we could use the well if necessary, it was much easier having a significant quantity of water waiting near the house. It was also convenient to work outside without getting too soaked, at least for now. The goal was to get the clothing clean, not dirtier, so each article that needed washing was taken directly from the house and put into the water a piece at a time. Using a scrubbing board and a bar of soap, I washed and my mother rinsed in a second pail of water. When satisfied, she’d wring it out tightly before draping it over the drying line in the house.

  “Didn’t the boys help you with laundry when I was away?” I asked, seeing the pile of clothing they created just inside the doorway.

  “Not significantly,” she replied. “It’s woman’s work anyway.”

  “What did they do?”

  “Oh, the usual repairs and things.”

  I continued to scrub the shirt in the bucket instead of speaking my mind. During Talium, I considered doing laundry a privilege. Washing garments soiled by three free capable men who refused to do it themselves irritated me.

  “Did Calish happen to talk to you about Reinick’s offer?” she asked, shattering my concentration.

  “He did,” I replied.

  Her actions slowed as she held her breath. She didn’t mean to, I’m sure, but in her hesitation she made her curiosity and fear known. She and I probably felt similarly, albeit for different reasons.

  “I told him to decline.” I twisted out the soapy water from the garment and handed it to her.

  She took what I offered and let out a sigh of relief before I left to fetch more to wash. When I returned, I saw her kneeling next to the bucket, eyes begging for a more thorough explanation.

  “That man is pure evil, Mother. I don’t want Calish to be manipulated by him. I’m not sure he comprehends what a truly terrible idea it is.” Adjusting the loose garments from falling, I asked, “What did Father say?”

  “He doesn’t want to force him into anything.” She picked up the shirt that made an escape. “He’s a grown man; he’ll choose his own path.” She ran her thumb over the neckline of the tunic in her grasp.

  I dropped the new items into the water and pushed them down with a stick. “He’s not going to give him any history to go on? No recommendation whatsoever?”

  “Not this time.”

  I shoved the stick in the dirt next to the wash. “Why not? He’s always got an opinion. This is the most important decision this family has had to make, and he’s just going to sit back and watch?”

  “Why don’t you go hang this up.” She handed me a clean pair of trousers.

  I groaned and did as she instructed.

  When I returned, she was pulling the shirt out of the wash bucket and putting it in the rinsing one. “To be clear, Una, this is not the most important decision ever made by our family. Your father has faith that the Great One knows all, beginning to end. We cannot govern the circumstances around us, but we can control ourselves.”

  “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” I grumbled.

  “Oh?”

  I handed her something to rinse. “Yeah, the Great One would want you to help your son make wise decisions, don’t you think?”

  “And just how is your father supposed to do that when he doesn’t have all the information, Una? How can he discuss the options when he doesn’t know why Calish would consider an offer like this in the first place?”

  My washing pace slowed as her words fell heavy on my heart. “What about you, Mother? What would you tell him to do?”

  She wiped her hands dry on her apron, waiting for me to hand her the wash. “I don’t know. I don’t know if inviting Reinick into your lives will give you what you’re expecting. I lived that life, and I can tell you I’m much happier now, though it meant being a Scavenger. A life with Blue would be easier, but I’ll be honest, the pregnancy complicates things. I don’t know how he, or his family, will respond to this. There is no easy answer, yet as it is with many things in life, if you don’t make a choice, one will be made for you. Whatever your decision, you’ll only have one chance to make it, and then you’re committed to it.”

  “What about all that ‘faith’ stuff? Where does that fit in?” I asked sarcastically.

  “When in doubt, choose what honors the Great One, despite your personal comfort. It may be more difficult, and cause more pain, but you’ll be better for it no matter what happens as a result.”

  What did that mean? Her riddle was worse than any I’d heard before. How could any of this honor the Great One? I could see how it would be pleasing to Aria, the god of fertility, or Aliah, the god of love, or Kalin, the god of war. Not the Great One. A single, all-powerful god would be much harder to please than one who had dominion over a specific aspect of life. What did it matter? The gods didn’t pay attention to Scavengers, which made it easier for me to not pay attention to them. If the Great One
wanted a particular answer, he’d need to make it an obvious one. Even better, he’d find a way to write it in a letter. That I’d understand; that I could follow through with.

  I continued my chore alongside my mother, trying to unravel her suggestion to pursue an honorable decision. My hands worked independently in a bucket of suds and water as my mind turned over the absurdity of her less-than-subtle attempt to preach at me.

  Time spent in my own thoughts seemed to pass quicker for me than my mother. Her voice broke my concentration unexpectedly and startled me from my trance-like state.

  “Thank you for putting the water buckets out last night, Una. I doubt we would have been able to accomplish all we have without them.”

  “The rain never comes when you need it.” I smiled.

  “Not in this case, anyway. You have worked so hard, I don’t think you’ve noticed we’ve finished the laundry!”

  “What?” She was right. All that remained were the items from the mud fight the night before.

  “You go take a break.” She kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll take care of those.”

  I stood up and stretched my arms high above my head. “Mother? Would you do me a favor?”

  “What is it, Birdie?”

  I touched the ends of my hair. “Would you give me a little trim? You know, just to make this a little less awful?”

  “I’ll tell you what. You go find the shears and comb, and we’ll do it right now while your muddy clothes soak.”

  Inside the house, I found the supplies and brought them outside. Outdoor haircuts were an efficient use of time. There would be no need to clean the clippings, other than brushing it off my shoulders. I sat on an overturned bucket and handed my mother her things. While she lacked the talent Kali had with hair, anything she did would be superior to Sada’s rugged chop.

  Mother didn’t complain, but it did take her extra time to plan an appropriate style to cut the uneven lengths of hair. She never spent so much time circling me and studying my head. When I suggested we shave it all off with Father’s straight razor, she warned me not to tempt her. After snipping the last part, she tousled my hair to check if any straggling pieces had hidden themselves from view. Seemingly satisfied with her work, she put the items away and retrieved a hand mirror from inside the house.

  “They cut it so cruelly; the best one would be a style like your father’s. Since he’d have a fit, I left what length I could.”

  There’s no need to keep it long now that I’ve been purchased.

  “I hope you like it,” she said, inviting me to look at it myself.

  “I’m sure I will.” I took the mirror and peered at my reflection, although for some reason, I didn’t focus on the haircut. Generally speaking, I looked better than I thought I would. My bruises were finally gone, and my eye was normal, but my lip was newly split. I dabbed the cut with my fingertip, wincing at the sting.

  “What’s wrong?” Mother asked.

  “When did this happen?” My tongue passed over the swelling lump.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You don’t see it? It’s right—” it was gone “—here.” I handed her back the mirror and brushed the freed hairs from my clothes. “I wish I understood these visions.”

  “I guess the more you have, the better you’ll be at figuring it out. When you fall and hurt your lip, come and see me.”

  Chapter 7

  With our chores complete, Mother and I relaxed, eating nuts and cheeses for lunch. Our only responsibility consisted of keeping the fire going and watching the clothes dry. The warmth of the house and subsequent boredom quickly led us to agree that we should take advantage of having a silent house and steal a nap before the men returned. Since the hanging laundry blocked the access to the loft, we ducked under the rows of garments and lay together on her bed.

  Her bed had a better pillow than mine and granted me sleep the strongest of dreams could not conquer. Rolling my head to the side, I spied Mother still fast asleep, her hair perfectly framing her face. I did my best to leave without rousing her, but I was not graceful enough. She stirred and stretched as I climbed out, inadvertently tugging on the thin quilt that lay under us both.

  “Sorry.” I pouted.

  She yawned. “Don’t apologize. If I don’t wake up now, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

  I touched the trousers hanging closest to me. “I think it’s dry.”

  She sat up. “Are the men home yet?”

  I wove through the dried laundry and opened the door a crack. “I don’t see Rebel here.”

  “Then our nap stays a secret!”

  “These things are still a little damp, should we leave them up or put them away?”

  “Let’s give the things over there a little while longer and start from this end.” She pulled down a shirt to fold, and I did the same.

  I was folding a pair of socks when something outside caught my attention. “Did you hear that?”

  She stopped folding to listen, but a moment later, she shook her head.

  “Someone is calling my name.” I listened more intently.

  “You can hear what they’re saying from in here?”

  I nodded, concentrating on the voice before throwing the shirt I just folded on the table.

  “What is it, Una?”

  I growled. “It’s Blue.” I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself. I shouldn’t be surprised. What did I expect? For him to let me run off and not check up on me? “You finish up here, I’ll go deal with my master.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” I said, closing the door behind me.

  The young farmer stood in the road, holding the reins to his horse in his hands. He said the wolves took down his horse. Another lie. Why should that be a surprise? I walked slowly to the middle of the yard, suddenly wishing I’d gone fishing today.

  “My gods! Una, you’re alive!” he cheered. He’d already tied his mare to the hitching post on the road.

  I shouted for him to stop when he stepped forward. “This property is rigged.”

  “Then come here, or tell me how to come in.”

  All the trap riggings had been removed, but Blue didn’t know that. Marsh disassembled them so Rain could run around without getting hurt. Wait, where is Rain? Probably sleeping under my parents’ bed. Never mind the wolf, I didn’t want Blue anywhere near me or my family, and the warning of tripping our security system seemed to do the trick.

  He stammered when I didn’t invite him in. “I was so afraid when you left.”

  I let him struggle with his speech. One would think he had plenty of time to rehearse on his way over here, yet here he was, unable to complete a thought properly. I didn’t care; I had no intention of contributing to the conversation at all.

  “You seem well.” He smiled and stepped onto the bridge. “Um, how did you get back here?”

  “I walked.”

  He laughed. “Walked. You’re funny. Seriously, how did you make it this far without being attacked?”

  I shrugged my reply.

  He surveyed the property. “Where is everyone?” When I didn’t answer, his sheepish demeanor faded. “Una,” he forced a smile, “I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

  “What are you doing here, Blue?”

  “I came to see you. I mean, I was hoping you’d be here. I was so worried.” He put his hand over his heart as he stepped forward.

  I inched back, keeping the distance between us. “Well, you’ve seen me.”

  “Come on, don’t be like that.”

  “Like what? Afraid of you? Tell me, Blue, what have you done lately that would make you think that I would want to be around you?”

  “Sweetheart, let me explain.”

  I gave him ample time to offer an excuse for his behavior. As his pathetic smile left his face, he revealed he didn’t have one. For a moment, I considered saying something rude or sarcastic, but he is a Citizen, and I am not. The law of the Authority awarded
him permission to kill me for lesser crimes. I didn’t feel like dying today any more than seeing his face, so I headed back inside.

  “Una, please, wait.”

  “What do you want from me?” I moaned as I turned.

  “Can I at least hug you? Show you how sorry I am?”

  “I need to go,” I declined politely before continuing on my way.

  He shouted to get my attention. “Do you want to know why I’m here?”

  “Sure. Why are you here, Blue?” I turned around, and he mumbled something.

  “What?”

  He mumbled again.

  I had better hearing than any person alive, yet I was only able to catch a few words of what he said. He fidgeted like he had an important message to deliver. I caught the words “marriage” and “box” jumbled with the blended sounds of other familiar words. The last time he did this, it was because he didn’t want to admit he’d purchased me. Was there something else? Did he learn something new that he lacked the courage to tell me?

  “Blue, I can’t understand anything you’re saying.” I stormed over to him, stopping on the bridge so as not to get too close.

  He crouched down low with his head in his hands, as if he were crying. He slurred words and phrases together, and as hard as I listened to him, they continued to be a jumble of incoherent gibberish.

  “Stop mumbling and say it!” I demanded, now standing in front of him on the road.

  He stood with dilated eyes and determination in his posture. “I came to collect you.” He gritted his teeth as he grabbed my wrist tightly.

  “No!” I tugged against his grip, finding he was stronger than I was. He dragged me further into the street, flinging me toward his steed. I stumbled but somehow avoided a fall.

  “Get on that horse,” he commanded.

  “Blue, I’m not leaving my family!”

  “You don’t have one anymore, Una.” He backhanded me across the face, and I fell to my knees. “I am all you have.”

  A strange sensation of pain and numbness filled my lower lip. I dabbed at it, wincing at my own touch before confirming by the blood on my fingertip that he split it.

  Towering over me, he shouted with such anger, saliva flew from his mouth. His actions were spontaneous and aggressive, and I reacted by making myself small, protecting my face with my arm. The agitated horse behind me shifted his weight, moving his hooves from one place to another, pulling against the hitching post.