added a picture of a lateen rig and the last few nights words. Crossed

25000.

2 files changed, 250 insertions, 60 deletions

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diff --git a/lbh.txt b/lbh.txt
index fb511a5..6a3cd00 100644
--- a/lbh.txt
+++ b/lbh.txt
@@ -23,9 +23,39 @@ No good guys, no bad guys. her father helps both ratham and mcphail. Warns mcpha
 
 # Overplot:
 
-- Opening in the stumps
-- Then Tambo and Gullah 
-    - Idyllic farming corn and rice, making gum and tar for the ships. autumn cool, swimming and playing at the beach in the wrecked ship.
+- Opening at sea. The approach to Edisto through Birdie's eyes.
+    - Scenes:
+        - Birdie in the hammock, her as skilled sailor, desc of ship
+        - introduce Tambo, Kobayashi and rice
+        - Story of the storm, rumors about Nassau and the british
+        - Backstory of the mother, landing on Edisto
+
+- Pine forest intro: in the stumps
+    - Scenes:
+        - Camp establishing shot:
+        - Lulu and Tambo in the boat, more on rice, father as anarchist
+        - Lulu and the alligator part 1
+        - Lulu on the stumps, break from the others, relationship with Birdie
+        - Backstory of the edistow
+        - return trip through the marsh
+        - Aunt and the pot for the Arkhangelsk
+
+- Fishing the Bank
+    - Scenes:
+        - Birdie on her cousins, father's rum speech
+        - Cousins as poor sailors, land people
+        - Birdie taking charge, Lulu as the sailor
+        - Fishing the bank
+        - Hint of the Storm
+
+- Tar harvest
+    - Scenes
+        - making tar for the ships. 
+        - autumn cool, swimming and playing at the beach in the wrecked ship.
+        - further develop the cousins and Kadi
+
+
+
 - Ratham arrives to careen the ship
     - warns of mcphail
 - McPhail part one
@@ -52,11 +82,11 @@ Their father spent all summer, a cold summer, sitting in the evenings, outside t
 
 That year, when the last the southerlies blew out and before the northerlies turned fierce and cold, they loaded the small boat and slipped out of the old story.
 
-They kept to the coast, giving wide berth to the places men gathered. When they came upon the marshy lowlands of London, they put in for a time. The twins had no memory of London, but the mention of it would made their father turn quiet. 
+They kept to the coast, giving wide berth to the places men gathered. When they came upon the marshy lowlands of London, they put in for a time. A brother arrived, his mother too left as he came. Their father grew even quieter for a time, then he disappeared altogether for a while. 
 
-When the winds blew favorably again they left, hugging the coast until there was no coast left. And they were gone again. To a new world where people said the soldiers were fewer, the winds warmer, the possibilities wider. 
+When he returned the winds blew favorably again and they left, hugging the coast until there was no coast left. And they were gone again. 
 
-By the time they arrived all the twins had left was a memory of trees. The deep darkness of the forest floor where they would lie, staring up at the trees, the branches reaching like thick fingers to scratch at the light of the sky above.
+To a new world where people said the soldiers were fewer, the winds warmer, the possibilities wider. By the time they arrived all the twins had left was a memory of trees. The deep darkness of the forest floor where they would lie as babies, staring up at the trees, the branches reaching like thick fingers to scratch at the light of the sky above.
 
 # Autumn
 
@@ -65,6 +95,8 @@ Opening scene on the boat establishes birdie, always aware of her surroundings,
 
 Also needs to to introduce Lulu and Henri, Kobayashi, Tambo and his wife to be. At the end of the chapter, they land on Edisto, set up camp. Papa goes to fetch the cousins.
 
+A flat boat is a fast boat.
+
 """
 
 ## Chapter 1: On The Sea
@@ -191,14 +223,82 @@ The tk tacked back and forth up and down the windward side of the island for mos
 
 Though it was very likely everyone on the island had seen them come in, they were still too deep in the marsh to make it to camp before dark. They made the last meal of the season on the ship with Birdie's fish and hatched plans to get tk unloaded the next morning. Birdie, Lulu, and Henri fell asleep making plans for what they would do when the saw their cousins again the next day.
 
-## Chapter 2 Among the Stumps
+## Chapter 2 Off The Sea
 
-She was named Linnea for her father's friend in the old country, but her mother called her Lulu the only day she saw her. 
+The feel of sand stuck to her fingers. Lulu flicked her fingers and felt the rough sand fall away and the smooth skin beneath. She was inside a pale white cocoon of sheet. She stretched her arms up over her head, feeling for the edge, for the sand. She found it and pull it down over her head and sat up to look around.
 
-Like her twin sister she'd been easing sheets and tightening lines since she could walk, crossed an ocean before she'd seen five winters, and survived the burning sun and flaming fevers of the Carolina swamps to reach her eighth year. 
+She was named Linnea for her father's friend in the old country, but her mother called her Lulu the only day she saw her. Like her twin sister she'd been easing sheets and tightening lines since she could walk, crossed an ocean before she'd seen five winters, and survived the burning sun and flaming fevers of the Carolina swamps to reach her eighth year. 
 
 Her skin was brown from long days in the sun. She was thin, but strong. Her body all bone and taut ropy muscle. Her hair was brown bleached to blond by the summer sun. She licked her lip, pulling the beads of sweat into her mouth and savoring the salty flavor. *You are the sea, you sweat the sea all day every day.*
 
+She sat on a low rising dune a hundred yards from the shoreline. The eastern sky was already pink and rapidly turning orange. She knew her father would already be awake back at the boat. She hadn't wanted to sleep in the marsh. She preferred the seaside. Near where their camp would be, where she would sleep all winter. She didn't mind the hammocks of the boat, but there was something about the sand that made Lulu sleep easier. It conformed to you, it hugged you. Like the sea, but firmer. 
+
+She wrapped the sheet, which had once been the tk's foresail, around her shoulders and walked down the beach to the Arkhangelsk. She was a 22ft Bermuda sloop that had been taken by the Whydah and put ashore with a small crew to careen and re-tar the hull. Unfortunately for the Ave Marie, as she was known at the time, her hull was too worm eaten and split even for the quality of tar Birdie's family was known for making. This had been the subject of some dispute between her father and the would-be captain of the Ave Marie, but in the end, the boat was abandoned on the beach. A storm two years ago had washed her up and into the dunes, but left her mostly in tact. Then the next year another storm had spun her around, bow to the sea and in doing so torn off much of the stern. But as she settled in the shifting dunes, the top deck leveled out. She still listed a little to port, but not so much that you couldn't raise around the upper deck more or less just like you could on the tk, which was currently back in the marsh, and would soon have to be unloaded.
+
+Lulu walked around the Arkhangelsk, checking and comparing with her memory of it when they'd left last year. If there had been a storm over the summer it didn't seem to have affect the wreck at all. She stuffed her sheet in the hold so it wouldn't blow away and climbed up to the top deck. The wood was dry and brittle but so far it had not broken up as much as she would have expected. She and Birdie had begged their father to tar it, that it might last but he refused, the tar was too valuable.
+
+She jumped off the bow into the soft sand and began walking back to camp. By the time she arrived everyone was up and unloading barrels except her father and Tambo who were looking over the pirogue, which had been stored for months now in the hold of the tk. They seemed satisfied with it and set in the muddy water next to where they'd landed the tk. 
+
+"Lulu, good of you to join us again" Her father smiled, but his tone of voice told her she was late. Papa did not suffer anyone not pulling their weight. She looked around. Henri and Birdie were bringing things up from the hold and stacking them as best they could and the listing deck. The tk was aground now that the tide was out. 
+
+Suddenly arms grabbed her from behind and lifted her into the air, she was squeezed tight against a warm soft chest. "Lulu, I've missed you." Kadiatu put her down and spun her around. Lulu wrapped her arms around her. "Kadi, I missed you." Lulu felt the warm of Kadi's belly against her face, she felt the warmth spreading through her body and all the tighter. 
+
+"Hi Lu." said a shy voice behind her. She slipped slow out of Kadi's embrace and turned to face her cousin Charles. He looked older. She wondered if she did too. His front teeth had finished growing in and he looked somehow like an adult. Lulu wasn't sure she liked this look, but she hugged him anyway. 
+
+"The Arkhangelsk is still in good shape."
+
+"I saw."
+
+"You already went there?" He had a look of disappointment on his face that made her instantly regret saying anything. But it was too late, she nodded, "I slept on the dunes."
+
+"By yourself?"
+
+She looked at him like he had two heads. "Of course." She could see the way he whithered under her looks and it made her feel guilty. She didn't mean to make him feel bad, but he asked such silly things sometimes, and she had no time for questions which seemed to her to have obvious answers. It made her dislike him a little for making her feel like she was a mean person. She was pretty sure she wasn't a mean person. Why did Francis seem like he thought she might be? Henri and Owen saved her from further awkwardness by zooming by at top speed chasing each other with wooden swords. "Hi Lu!" screamed Owen as he dodged around her and dove into the oak shrubs after Henri, who hadn't even acknowledged her existence.
+
+Francis took the opportunity to go back to where he and Birdie were helping unload stores from the ship. Lulu watched him go, feeling that sinking feeling she got every autumn when her brother and sister abandoned her. They didn't mean to. They didn't really, especially Birdie who always went out of her way to make sure everyone was included in everything. Still, Birdie and Francis were like a little team. And Owen in Henri were another little team. Lulu did not have a team. There was just Lulu. In some ways she liked this, it left her free to do the things she wanted without anyone interfering. She could spent her time with Kadi and her daughter Cuffee, and her mother and grandmother at their cottage up the river. She loved to sit and rough pine boards of their porch and listen to them talk about anything and everything. She love to use the vines hanging from the big oak that stretched out over the river to swing out and drop midstream into the delicious cool pool of black water.
+
+Sometimes she would spend the afternoon hunting plants in the thickets with Kadi and her mother. Other days, when Cuffee was in the mood, she would bring her down river to their camp to play in the Arkhangelsk. Cuffee would be thirteen this year though, and from what her grandmother had said last year, she might not be playing on the Arkhangelsk anymore. Lulu wondered why, but did not want to ask because it seemed assumed that she knew why, and she did not want to admit that she didn't know. Birdie did not know either when Lulu asked her. 
+
+Today though, Cuffee came up out of the hold of the Arkhangelsk with a load of pots and pans that would serve the camp kitchen and, when she saw Lulu, she dropped the lot of them on the deck with a clatter, vaulted the side railing into the mud and ran over to hug Lulu.
+
+"I missed you so much."
+
+"I missed you too."
+
+The hugged and laughed and hugged some more. Until that moment Lulu would not have said that she missed Cuffee that much, but then suddenly she realized she had, without knowing she had. And somehow it made her want to cry that she did not know that she had missed her this much and so she squeezed her tighter and buried her face in her shoulder and thick braids of hair and cried for a moment. Cuffee pulled her back and wiped her tears. "It is okay, we are here now. Together. Come on, help me get these pots down to your camp."
+
+Lulu followed her back up onto the ship and helped gather up the pots, taking extra care with Kobayashi's precious rice steamer and basket. 
+
+All morning they hauled gear out of the Arkhangelsk down the island to the cluster of dunes at the south eastern tip. There they found a sheltered area in the middle of the dunes and set about constructing their camp, which consisted of little more than a thatched hut, built to a design the Edistow had taught Tambo, who had taught her father, who had taught his children. It was, as all great shelters are, ingeniously simple. A pole structure made of half oak timbers, which gave it strength, and half pine timbers, which were bent to give it shape, was then covered with thatching made of half woven reed mats. Her father and Tambo had the basic structure done by mid afternoon. For the time being they simply draped the main sheet over the top in case of rain. In the next few weeks Lulu, Birdie, her Aunt Māra, Cuffee, Kadiatu and sometimes her parents would help to make the thatching. 
+
+Her father brought two large flat stones to build a hearth in the middle so the smoke would drift up through the opening. He lit a fire, said a prayer, the threw of some Frankincense resin on the coals. The sweet, light scent of Frankincense filled the hut when Lulu walked in carrying a load of tk and it immediately smelled like home. 
+
+It was still much to hot to have a fire inside though, so she soon retreated to the dunes outside where the long afternoon shadows began to race their way across the clearing they'd be calling home for the next six to eight months.
+
+Her father was just completely the outdoor cooking area, which consisted of a fire ring and an iron tripod that fit over it and from which they could hang their cooking pots. Kobayashi and her father did most of the cooking, though sometime Francis and Owen's mother would bring them something or tend the fire during the day when no one else was around to look after it. 
+
+Lulu turned and looked west. A little back from camp there was a like of oak trees and that then gave way to the marsh where the tk would be anchored for the season. In those oaks they would soon construct great kilns that would be used to make the tar that brought them to the island in the first place. Across the flat reedy world of marsh was another line of oaks and then a no man's land of cypress swamp and brackish water that slowly, as you moved south, resolved itself into the southern fork of the Edistow. Another half mile beyond that was Kadiatu's family's house and farm. Beyond that were the great pine forests of the low country where they would dig stumps and then haul them by barge and horse out here to the beach where they would burn them, slowly extracting the sap and then boiling it down into a sticky resin that sealed wood against the sea.
+
+
+
+They unload the boat and set up camp, big bonfire, scene with her uncle being rough with Francis, or being mean to Francis. Partial explanation of the Aunt being around more. Her father turned to Māra, "you can come down here whenever you need to. You're family, not him."
+
+"He's my husband."
+
+Her father shrugged. "Doesn't mean you have to go down with the ship."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Just then her father walked by with a barrel that he set down rather ceremoniously next to Lulu and began to open. "You'll come with us today I think," he said, not bothering to look up from what he was doing. "They cut a whole forest down, so we're going stumping early this year." He pulled what he wanted out of the barrel, small bundle that she new help his tools for marking stumps. "Go get in the boat Lu."
+
+---
+
+###Among the Stumps
+
 Lulu hopped from stump to stump. Crouching down, her knees bent like coiled springs and then sprong, she exploded toward the next stump, landed, teetered, stopped there. There were plenty of stumps. The whole forest was gone. 
 
 "Unbelievable what these people will waste." her father had grumbled earlier as he paddled Lulu and Tamba upriver in the pirogue. Tamba sat in the bow. Lulu in the middle. They were headed inland to inspect stumps. "They probably cut them all down for some waterfront mansion."
@@ -283,95 +383,186 @@ Lulu thought about this, and about her mother, about things she barely remembere
 
 Lulu could feel the water pulling them now, partly the tide of the marsh, partly the current of the river it was drawing them to the sea. The boat rocked slightly as her father laid the pole down and took up the paddle he used to steer. She looked back and he was sitting, smiling now as they drew nearer to home. Stern and distant though he might sometimes be, her father was almost always smiling when his face was turned toward the sea and the wind was on his cheek.
 
-The shadows of the moss dangled like fingers form the oak trees when the pirogue finally nosed onto the sandy shore of the island, not more than half a mile from their home. She hopped off the side into the water and waded ashore. She glanced back at her father who nodded once and she needed no further encouragement, taking off down the path that led back to camp.
-
-
-
+Shadows of moss lengthened across the ground like fingers stretching out of the oak trees by the time the pirogue finally nosed onto the sandy shore of the island. It was a half mile walk to camp. Lulu hopped off the side of the boat and into the water, wading ashore. She glanced back at her father who nodded once. She needed no further encouragement, taking off down the path that led back to camp.
 
-Lulu rounded the corner at full speed, through the tall field of sea oats that formed the southern border of their camp, bursting out of the grass like a lion. She smelled the warm sweetness of fish stew. Her mother was stirring a kettle over the fire. Her sister and Henri came running from the other side of camp, calling her to come to the dunes, but she was hungry. She ran over and hugged her mother, who pulled the stray hairs from her face, tucked them back behind her ears and scooped her up a bowl of stew with a piece of cold fried bread. Lulu slurped at the hot stew, earning her a frown from her mother.
+Lulu rounded the corner at full speed, through the tall field of sea oats that formed the southern border of their camp, bursting out of the grass like a lion. She smelled the warm sweetness of fish stew. Her aunt was stirring a kettle over the fire. Her sister and Henri came running from the other side of camp, calling her to come to the dunes, but she was hungry. She ran over and hugged her aunt, who pulled the stray hairs from her face, tucked them back behind her ears and scooped her up a bowl of stew with a piece of cold fried bread. Lulu slurped at the hot stew, earning her a frown from her aunt. "Don't slurp Lu."
 
 "Did you mark stumps?" Birdie watched her eat.
 
 "Papa did." She took another bite of bread. "Squares." Her sister did not seem to care. Birdie had never liked stumping.
 
-"Mama gave us a pot for the kitchen in the Arkhangelsk."
+"Aunt Māra gave us a pot for the kitchen in the Arkhangelsk."
 
 Lulu stopped chewing. "Really?" A smile came over Birdie's face, all she could do was nod faster than Lulu had ever seen a head move before. "It's the best" blurted Henri.
 
 "I started to carve spoons for it they aren't done yet but do you want to see?" Birdie was already pulling on her arm, dragging her away from the fire.
 
-Birdie was always making things for them to play with, she'd fixed the wheel, carved a pole for the flag, made a tk, and was always helping Papa repair the fishing nets. Sometimes Lulu hated the way Birdie was so good at making things, but mostly she loved to use the things when they were finished. She scooped up some sand and wiped her bowl out. She dumped it all at the edge of the fire and handed the bowl back to Mama. "Going to the ship," she blurted as the three of them ran out of camp.
+Birdie was always making things for them to play with, she'd fixed the wheel, carved a pole for the flag, made fish hooks out of deer bone, and was always helping Papa repair the fishing nets. Sometimes Lulu hated the way Birdie was so good at making things, but mostly she loved to use the things when they were finished. She scooped up some sand and wiped her bowl out. She dumped it all at the edge of the fire and handed the bowl back to her Aunt. "Going to the ship," she blurted as the three of them ran out of camp.
 
-They slowed when they reached the dunes, they all knew from experience that running in the dunes was a waste of effort. "How come Mama gave us the pot?" Lulu had been trying to come up with reasons for a gift in her absence ever since Birdie had said it, but she had come up empty.
+They slowed when they reached the dunes, they all knew from experience that running in the dunes was a waste of effort. From the top of the rise they could see the single mast of the Arkhangelsk. 
 
-"Mama said we could use it if we her left alone." 
+"How come Māra gave us the pot?" Lulu had been trying to come up with reasons for a gift in her absence ever since Birdie had said it, but she had come up empty.
+
+"She said we could use it if we her left alone." 
 
 "Were you bad?"
 
 Birdie nodded at Henri, who scowled. "Was not!"
 
-Henri was only four, but was, as their father said, clever as a Lynx and innocent as the doves. Henri had a way of twinkling his eyes when he smiled such that adults were immediately less angry at whatever had attracted their attention in the first place. It did not, naturally, work on Lulu or Birdie, though they both secretly and not so secretly, admired this ability of Henri's. In fact Lulu and Birdie had practiced this twinkle for hours, Lulu thought they were pretty good at it. But it never seemed to come off right when they tried it on adults. 
-
-Despite his twinkle, Henri never got away with anything. He was too naturally mischievous and yet sneaky. If something was amiss in camp, some prank played, some calamity caused, Mama always came looking for "my little brown imp." The only other possible culprit was their cousin Charles, but he was a year younger, actually quite sneaky, and lived a quarter mile down the beach with their aunt and uncle, which generally absolved him.
+Henri was four, and as their father said, clever as a Lynx and innocent as the doves. Henri had a way of twinkling his eyes when he smiled so that adults were immediately less angry at whatever had attracted their attention in the first place. It did not, naturally, work on Lulu or Birdie, though they both secretly and not so secretly, admired this ability. In fact Lulu and Birdie had practiced this twinkle for hours, Lulu thought they were pretty good at it. But it never seemed to come off right when they tried it on adults. 
 
-They crested the last dune and from the top the Arkhangelsk came into view, lying as she always did in a gully just beyond the beach, listing slightly to port, her mast pointing nearly due north, marking time nearly as well as the sundial her father kept in this tent. The three ran down the slope of the last dune in great bounding leaps, sinking deep into the soft sand and leaping out again great whooping war cries rising from their lips.
+Despite his twinkle, Henri never got away with anything. He was too naturally mischievous and yet not sneaky. If something was amiss in camp, some prank played, some calamity caused, everyone always came looking for "the little brown imp." The only other possible culprit was their cousin Charles, but he was a year younger, actually quite sneaky, and lived a quarter mile down the beach with their aunt and uncle, which generally absolved him.
 
-Lulu ducked under the crumbing beam of the tk, following birdie down into the hold where the new pot sat on their makeshift stove. It was a world of black and white, dark shadows punctuated by bleach white light streaming in the occasional holes in the deck. The damp sand under the shadows was a cool luxury after the heat of the swamp. Lulu sat down and Birdie passed her the pot. She felt it cool and smooth in the darkness. She ran her finger along the lip feeling the nicks where Mama's metal tongs had banged it. She passed it back to Birdie who put it on the stove. They all went out to gather crab shells and seaweed for a stew.
+They crested the last dune and from the top the Arkhangelsk came into view, lying as she always did in a gully just beyond the beach, listing slightly to port, her mast pointing nearly due north, marking time nearly as well as the sundial her father kept in his tent. The three ran down the slope of the last dune in great bounding leaps, sinking deep into the soft sand and leaping out again great whooping war cries rising from their lips.
 
-It was nearly dark by the time they walked back to camp. Their father had spread out the coals of the fire on the side of the dune just behind the pole lodge which the only really used for sleeping when the weather forced them indoors. Her father buried the coals under a few inches of sand to give them a bit for warmth for it still turned plenty cold by early morning. Lulu brought out her blanket and lay down in the sand pulling it over her. 
+Lulu ducked under the crumbing beam that had once supported the deck, following Birdie down into the hold, where the new pot sat on their makeshift stove. It was a world of black and white, dark shadows punctuated by bleach white light streaming in the occasional holes in the deck. The damp sand under the shadows was a cool luxury after the heat of the swamp. Lulu sat down and Birdie passed her the pot. She felt it cool and smooth in the darkness. She ran her finger along the lip feeling the nicks where metal tongs had banged into it. She passed it back to Birdie who put it on the stove. They all went out to gather crab shells and seaweed for a stew.
 
-She lay for along time whispering with Birdie about plans for the next day, watching the thing sliver of moon drag it's light across the shifting ripple of the sea.
+It was dark by the time they walked back to camp. The air had turned cold as the sun set. Not cold, but cool enough that Lulu got her blanket out of the pole lodge. They only ever slept indoors in the worst of weather. Lulu brought out her blanket and lay down in the sand, pulling it over her. She lay for along time whispering with Birdie about plans for the next day, watching the thin sliver of moon drag its light across the shifting ripple of the sea.
 
-The sun
 
 
 
-Also the ring that functions as a traveler is on the transom. If you you try and haul on the mainsheet while too far forward you'll rip the bimini down.
 
-A flat boat is a fast boat.
 
-## Chapter 3
+## Chapter 3: Fishing the Bank
 
-Birdie sat in the shade of the last sago palm. It was the edge of camp. After the palm was the beach. She watched the ocean from the top ridge of the dune, squinting in the bright light of the midday sun. Birdie's real name was tk, after her mother's sister, who was down at the shoreline, pulling in a fishing net with Birdie's own mother. Birdie had helped them cast out the net and secure it to their buoys earlier in the morning. Now she was waiting. Waiting for her brother to play, waiting for her sister to return, her cousins to be done with their chores. She glance up the beach toward their camp but there was no sign of Charles or Samuel. She sighed and plucked at a sea oat, slowly breaking up the stem.
+Birdie woke early, before first light. She sat up on the dune where she had slept and looked off toward the sea. She saw the silhouette of her father down by the shore, his back to her. His hand went up and pulled down to his head with a movement so sharp and sudden she felt as if the starlight itself bent down to him. She watched at he turned to each direction, and then back to the center where he stood still, facing east.
 
-Down the beach she would see the single mast of the Arkhangelsk. She was a 22ft Bermuda sloop that had been taken by the Whydah and put ashore with a small crew to careen and re-tar. Unfortunately for the Ave Marie, as she was known at the time, her hull was too worm eaten and split even for the quality of tar Birdie's family was know for. 
+She lay back in the sand and stared up at the stars. They began to fade as the pre-dawn blue crept up from the edge of the world, turning the black night sky first to blue, then to pink, to orange and then the stars were gone. A new day. Her father came walking up from the ocean, swinging his arms and stretching his back. He saw that she was awake and plopped down in the sand next to her. His beard was still wet and droplet of salt water sprayed her as he sat down. They did not say anything, the just sat together and watched the dawn paint the sky in front of them. 
 
-The captain of the Ave Marie had disagreed. While the rest of his crew shrugged and went off hunting the wild boar that were forever rooting in the jack pines, the captain stewed, drinking all afternoon until finally he'd strode into camp shouting for her father, who eventually appeared. There was a good bit of quarreling in several languages until at some point Birdie remembered the captain drew his sword and her father had gone very quiet. Her mother had pulled all the children inside the thatched hut that was their summer home, but Birdie had found a crack in the palm fronds and watched as her father walked very slowly forward until he had placed his neck against the captain's sword, a move that had been so unexpected that the captain did not appear to know what to do. He stammered something Birdie could not hear, though she heard her father's voice quite clearly, I know how I will die and it is not by your hand. The captain had dropped his sword, spun on his heell and marched right out of camp in the direction of Charles town.
+Birdie's people were sea gypsies, Alban, was what her father called himself. Got lost on our way to the old valuta grounds her father would say, laughing. Birdie wasn't quite sure what this meant. He never elaborated. He was a man of few words, comfortable with silence. He expected everyone else to be comfortable with it as well, especially his. 
 
-A few hours later the crew of six returned from the woods with a wild boar so huge they staggered under the weight of the pole it was slung out on. Birdie's father had informed them of their captains departure, the news of which they barely acknowledged, bent as they were to the task at hand, namely butchering and roasting the boar. There'd been a great feast in camp that night, with music and dancing that didn't stop until long after Birdie was asleep. The crew had stayed on for a quarter of a moon, until the rum ran out and they too headed off down the road in the direction of Charles town. 
+The low landers, as he called anyone who didn't live on the sea (which again made no sense to Birdie, how could people who lived on the sea not be the lowlanders?), "talk to hear themselves, talk about what they don't even know until they're half way through talking about it," he said. "I know I am the only one of our people you have to judge by, but we are not that way. If there is something to say, say it. But mark your words Birdie, pay attention to them, think on them, choose them well, find the best ones you can and don't speak until you have found them. The low landers think they can learn by talking, by asking questions, but you must listen first. Listen and watch the world around you. If you have a question, ask it first of yourself, see what answers you can come to and once you have those ask someone else and see what answers they have. Compare yours with theirs. This is how you learn."
 
-Birdie had been worried that the angry captain might return. For several nights she refused to sleep outside until her mother finally coaxed the problem out of her. "Sweet girl, you don't need to worry," her mother had said, "he's gone."
+Her father sat silent now beside her. She wondered where he was. Was he here, next to her? Was he on some other shore? As if reading her mind he turned to her and smiled. "It will be good day," he said in a whisper. And then he rose and walked back toward camp. Lulu sat up. "I was dreaming of pine trees." Birdie glanced at her. She too had dreamed of pines. She wondered if they both were thinking of burning stumps or if there was something more. Birdie still remembered the northern forests, or thought she did, or perhaps her father's stories had worked their way into her head until they became her memories and dreams too, lodged there as if she had seen them with her own eyes. And now she dreamed of her imagined memories, layers and layers of story peeling back to reveal at the end... what?
 
-And indeed he never came back. The Ave Marie had been left where she was when the family departed for their winter camp in the south. When they came back this year they found a storm had pushed the ship high above the tideline, and filled her hull nearly full of sand. She listed considerably to port, but was plenty straight enough to climb about what was left of her decks and bones. 
+She stood up. "I'm going to get some food." She skipped down the slope, feet squeaking in the dry sand. Memories of cold salt air, oceans crossings, fog and pines, where it was always cool, and soft breezes blew did not help her here, in this land of swelter and storm. What she wouldn't give for a cool dry breeze stirring the pines of some rocky northern shore. 
 
-She had been commandeered by Birdie, along with Lulu, Henri and their cousins from up the beach, Charles and Samuel, and Tamba and Kadiatu's boy Cuffee. They'd spent the summer in her, every free moment they had, sailing the sands of the island, re-christening her the Arkhangelsk. Birdie was captain. They had voted, as free sailors did, and she had been elected, and only voted out once, when Lulu called a new vote after Birdie had ordered all the boys over the side to raid an enemy ship for the hundredth time, holding Lulu back. But Lulu's term as captain had lasted only a few days before Henri called a vote that put Birdie back in charge, and set the boys, along with Lulu, over the side to attack the forts and towns of the coasts they sailed.
+She stopped at the top of the dune and watched the disk of the sun break the horizon. She stood, rooted like a sago, feeling the first warm orange rays, savoring the brief moments when it seems like perhaps it would not be murderously hot by mid morning. Then she uprooted herself and walked toward the teepee into which her father had disappeared only moments earlier. Inside it was dark, she blinked as her eyes adjusted to reveal the thin slivers of light from the windows, the rafters hung with dried fish and herbs, roots and tubers she and Lilah had dug the day before. Plants Tamba had shown them that he and his people had learned from the Edisto. There was plenty to eat in the marshes and pine forests if you knew where to look. Still the hut smelled as it always did, of the sea and fish. There was fishy smell inside that rarely left since most of what the family ate came from the sea, fish, clams, mussels, oysters as big as Birdie's head, seaweed and sea oats, even salt dried from the sea, there was always a bit of the sea in the stew pot. This morning it smelled of dried fish and onions. Her father smiled at her, asked about her dreams while he ladled the leftover stew into Birdie's bowl, a coconut shell sanded and polished smooth, carved with a scene of mermaid rising from a clam shell, something her father had seen in London. It was in fact the one and only story of London he had ever told her. 
 
 ---
 
+Birdie sat in the shade of a sago palm. It was the last palm, the edge of camp. After the palm was the beach. She watched the ocean from the top ridge of the small, shaded dune, squinting in the bright light of the midday sun. Birdie's real name was Māra, after her mother's sister, who was down at the shoreline, pulling in a fishing net with Henri. Birdie had helped them cast out the net and secure it to the buoys earlier in the morning. Now she was waiting for her cousins to be done with their chores. She glanced up the beach toward their camp but there was no sign of Owen or Francis. She sighed and plucked at a sea oat, slowly breaking up the stem.
 
+Down the beach she would see the single mast of the Arkhangelsk. Most of the time she loved seeing the boat, but sometimes it reminded her of the awful day it arrived. After her father had told the captain of the Ave Marie it could not be saved, the rest of his crew shrugged and went off hunting the wild boar that were forever rooting in the jack pines. The captain sat on the beach and stewed. He drank rum all afternoon until finally he'd strode into camp shouting for her father, who eventually appeared. There was a good bit of quarreling in several languages until at some point Birdie remembered the captain drew his sword and her father had gone very quiet. Aunt Māra pulled all the children inside the teepee, but Birdie had stood by the door and watched as her father walked very slowly forward until he had placed his neck against the captain's sword, a move that had been so unexpected that the captain did not appear to know what to do. He stammered something Birdie could not hear, though she heard her father's voice quite clearly, I know how I will die and it is not by your hand. The captain had dropped his sword, spun on his heel and marched right out of camp in the direction of Charlestown.
 
+A few hours later the crew of six returned from the woods with a wild boar so huge they staggered under the weight of the pole it was slung out on. Birdie's father had informed them of their captains departure, the news of which they barely acknowledged, bent as they were to the task at hand, namely butchering and roasting the boar. There'd been a great feast in camp that night, with music and dancing that didn't stop until long after Birdie was asleep. The crew had stayed on for a quarter of a moon, until the rum ran out and they too headed off down the road in the direction of Charlestown. 
 
+Birdie had been worried that the angry captain might return. For several nights she refused to sleep outside until her father finally coaxed the problem out of her. "My girl, you don't need to worry," her father had said, "he's gone." And indeed no one had ever seen him again.
 
+And so the little ship had been commandeered by Birdie, along with Lulu, Henri, their cousins Owen and Francis, and Kadiatu's boy Cuffee. They'd spent the autumn in the ship, every free moment they had, sailing the sands of the island, re-christening her the Arkhangelsk. Birdie was captain. They had voted, as free sailors did, and she had been elected. She had only been voted out once, when Lulu called a new vote after Birdie had ordered all the boys over the side to raid an enemy ship for the hundredth time, holding Lulu back. But Lulu's term as captain had lasted only a few days before Henri called a vote that put Birdie back in charge, and set the boys, along with Lulu, over the side to attack the forts and towns of the coasts they sailed.
 
-They sail in the next day, father tells a story of some kind, a gannet dives at the boat to add some drama. they reach edisto, sam and charlie, the cousins come out from Charles twon. Tamba and tk and cuthie, he gets introduced, they set up camp, play on the dunes, find the arkhangelsk, make tar, go inland to get chicle, hunt and fish and swim. Then north to Charles town, then the storm. The death of Sam and then the family heads north again.
+Birdie was trying to decide what they should do today, with their new pot they should have new adventures, when she noticed a small sail rounding out of the northern river. The boat road the middle of the current. Birdie's heart leaped up. Don't do that Charles. She tried to send this thought to him somehow but before she could even begin to concentrate she watched as the boat slammed hard into the leeward shore of the bank, hurling two small figures through the air like dolls pitched from a catapult. She winced as they landed. She watched them get up. Down at the shoreline Henri and Māra were laughing as they folded up the net. 
 
-# Winter
+"My sons sail like his father," said Auntie Māra as she walked by Birdie carrying the basket of fish on her hip, with the net slung over her shoulder. 
 
-## Fire
+Henri sat down beside Birdie. "Did you see them" Henri giggled. "They hit so hard."
+
+"I've told him a dozen times, you have to stay south and use the wind to get out of the current."
 
-Birdie woke early, before first light. She sat up and looked off toward the sea. She saw the silouete of her father down by the shore, his back to her. His hand wen up and pulled down to his head with a movement so sharp and sudden she felt as if the starlight itself bent down to him. She watched at he turned to each direction, and then back to the center where he stood still, facing east.
+"He knows," said Henri matter of factly. "He likes to crash so they go flying."
 
-She lay back in the sand and stared up at the stars. They began to fade as the pre dawn blue crept up from the edge of the world, turning black to blue to pink to orange and then they were gone. A new day. A groan escaped her. It was going to be a long, hot day made even hotter by the fires. IT was time to start making tar, a task Birdie loathed, though truthfully there weren't any tasks she didn't loath. She wanted to spend all day at the Arkhangelsk, with the new pot, with her sister, even her brother, even her cousins and her brother combined would be better than fetching wood and dried reeds all day and feeding them into ovens.
+"What?" 
 
-Her father came walking up from the ocean, swinging his arms and stretching his back. He saw that she was awake and plopped down in the sand next to her. His beard was still wet and droplet of salt water sprayed her as he sat down. They did not say anything, the just sat together and watched the dawn paint the sky in front of them. 
+"It's fun I think?"
 
-Birdie's people were sea gypsies, Alban, was what her father called himself. Got lost on our way to the old valuta grounds her father would say, chuckling. Birdie still wasn't quite sure what this meant. He never elaborated. He was a man of few words, comfortable with silence and he expected everyone else to be comfortable with it as well, especially his. The low landers, as he called anyone who wasn't of the sea, which made no sense to Birdie, but did apparently to at least to her father, talk to hear something, talk about what they don't even know until their half way through talking about it, he said. I know I am the only one of my people you have to judge by, but we are not that way. If there is something to say, say it. But mark your words Birdie, pay attention to them, think on them, choose them well, find the best ones you can and don't speak until you have found them. The low landers think they can learn by talking, by asking questions, but you must listen first. Listen and watch the world around you. If you have a question, ask it first of yourself, see what answers you can come to and once you have those ask someone else and see what answers they have. This is how you learn.
+"They're going to break the mast one of these days. Or lose the sail. And then how will we fish?"
 
-Her father sat silent now beside her. She wondered where he was. Was he here, next to her? Was he on some other shore? As if reading her mind he turned to her and smiled. It will be good day, he said in a whisper. And then he rose and walked down and ducked into the hut. Lulu sat up. I was dreaming of pine trees. Birdie glanced at her. She too had dreamed of pines. She wondered if they both were thinking of burning stumps or if there was something more. Birdie still remembered the northern forests, or thought she did, or perhaps her parents stories had worked their way into her head until they became her memories and dreams too, lodged there as if she had seen them with her own eyes and now she dreamed of her imagined memories, layers and layers of story peeling back to reveal at the end... what?
+Henri shrugged, but didn't say anything. Birdie stood up. "I'm going to get my line." 
 
-She stood up. I'm going to get some food. She skipped down the slope, feet squeaking in the dry sand. Memories of cold salt air, oceans crossings, fog and pines, where it was always cool, and soft breezes blew did not help her here, in this land of swelter and storm and slow burning kilns. What she wouldn't give for a cool dry breeze stirring the pines of some rocky northern shore. 
+"Get mine too will you please?"
+
+"Sure." Henri took off down the path to the teepee where both their lines were coiled and hung from a rafter over the door.
+
+It took Francis the better part of an hour to get the boat down the beach to their camp. While she loved her cousins, they were not sailors. The did not come with Birdie and her family to Summer camp in the north. The left the island, but only went as far as Charlestown where they lived on Sullivan's Island. Birdies's Uncle tk helped run a distillery, spending his days tending the vast vats of boiling sugar, turning it slowly to rum.
+
+No one on the tk drank. Her father didn't forbid it exactly, he simple did not associate with people who drank it. "When you drink or eat something you do not just drink the liquid or eat the flesh of the thing, you consume its spirit as well," he told her one day when she asked why he never drank rum. 
+
+"Different things have different spirits Birdie." He dipped a ladle of water and drank it. "The spirit in the rum, it is not a good spirit. To me it seems like not a good spirit anyway. Many people, it takes them and makes them do as it wishes, sends them nowhere but in search of more of itself. Your uncle for instance, it drives him to work all summer making it. Other people it just visits and then leaves with no problems, it all depends." He shrugged and swatted at a mosquito on his shoulder. "Some days it visited me and left, but some days it visited me and wanted to stay even after I no longer wanted it, so I decided one day not to let it in me any more."
+
+"It is not the way of our people I don't think. We did not have it back home. There was Vodka, but that was a drink of the lowlanders. We never drank it. Vodka has a strong spirit, but we did not need it. For us there is the sea, it has the strongest spirit as far as I know. I would rather stand on its shore for one minute and taste its salt air than have a lifetime of rum or vodka. The sea is the spirit I want to spend my time with, the sea is who I serve."
+
+Birdie had decided then and there not to waste her time with rum or vodka or anything with bad spirits. She too would serve the sea. She watched as Francis tried to bring the little boat in through the waves. It was an offshore wind, which mean the sail luffed whenever he tried to head straight in through the waves, but to take them at an angle meant the little boat pitched and tumbled and threatened to roll with every wave. Francis might enjoy catapulting himself out of it when there was a nice soft sandbar to land on, but rolling in this surf would quickly be the end of the boat, and quite possible Francis and Owen as well.
+
+Birdie considered swimming out to help them, but beyond the break was where most of the sharks hung out. She did not mind the sharks too much, most of them were harmless enough, but there were a few, the larger ones with very sharply pointed fins, that she avoided unless there were dolphins around. She walked down to the shoreline with Henri just as Francis finally road a wave through the break, somehow failing to capsize despite forgetting to lean back and counterbalance the roll of the boat. 
+
+
+**Scene of Francis and Birdie fishing** Make Francis an approachable enough character that there is tragedy when he dies. what makes him approachable, some level of vulnerability, cruel father? Drinking father? No cruel, a drunk. Who's getting worse. But where can I put a scene of that? First cool night, they have a bonfire, he gets drunk. Words with the father, hits Francis. 
+
+Francis was smiling as the boat road the last the crumbling wave toward the shore. His dimples shadowed into his tanned cheeks. His impossibly white two front teeth that Birdie was very jealous of. She unconsciously traced her tongue across her lone front tooth. She returned his smile, but tried to keep her gap tooth hidden. Owen leaped out the boat and tossed the bowline to Birdie, who helped him drag it onto the beach. 
+
+"Did you see that?" Owen said breathlessly. "We flew Birdie, we flew."
+
+She dropped the bowline back in the boat. "I saw you nearly break the mast on the only fishing boat we have, if that's what you mean." 
+
+His face dropped. He mumbled something about finding Henri and walked off down the beach.
+
+"Lighten up Birdie," said Francis climbing out of the boat.
+
+"Lighten up? What if you'd broken it?"
+
+"Did I?"
+
+She shook her head at him. He rolled his eyes at her and turned around. She wanted to say *I like you less when you act like your father* but she bit her lip and said nothing. She knew he didn't mean any harm, he just didn't think. But she knew Francis didn't have what she had. She could feel him floundering some times, like he was lost in a way that she never would be and so she bit her lip and kept quiet. 
+
+He leaned against the gunwale of the boat. She came and stood next to him, thinking about what she should say, but she could come up with nothing. 
+
+"You always do the right thing Birdie," he started, but she interrupted him by bursting out laughing. 
+
+"My father would disagree."
+
+Francis didn't seem to think it was funny. He looked very serious for once. She was quiet again. "I didn't mean... You did a good job getting her through the surf."
+
+"You think? I forgot to lean out when she pitched down the first time."
+
+Birdie shrugged, "I guess you didn't need to. I mean, you didn't capsize, you made it to the shore." She saw him smile out of the corner of her eye.
+
+"You want to go fish?"
+
+"Yes. Henri did too."
+
+They both glanced down the beach in the direction Owen had gone, but there was no one. "Let's just me and you go."
+
+Birdie bit her lip, Henri had wanted to go, but she'd spent all morning with him and going without him suddenly sounded good, though she knew she would feel guilty about it the whole time she was out. "Okay."
+
+He seemed to sense the hesitation in her voice and sighed. "Owen probably talked him into going turkey bunting." Owen and Francis had somehow managed to kill a turkey with their homemade bow and arrow and Henri was obsessed with doing the same. Francis was probably right she decided. Lulu had gone up the river with Kadiatu and Cuffee. There was no one else around save her father. She smiled. "Alright, you push us out." 
+
+Francis went to bow and pushed the boat while Birdie pulled on the stern. They dragged her into the water and spun her around. Birdie jumped in as Francis continued to push from the stern. Birdie grabbed the foresail line and sat down on the port gunwale. The little boat was a lateen rig, like the tk, but with a single mast, a fore and back stay holding the sail and a cleated line that could be loosed and tightened to draw in the sail and come closer to the wind. Birdie unwrapped Francis's poorly cleated line and let the sail out to catch the offshore wind. Francis was up to his waist now in the water. Birdie leaned out to look past the sail and saw nothing but water. "Get in," she shouted. 
+
+Francis heaved himself up over the side of the boat and rolled down into the bottom, Birdie drew the line in and turned the tiller to put them at an angle up the face of the wave. Near the top a gust of wind finally hit the sail the little boat leaped forward, sending them over the wave and rushing out, toward the next. Two more waves and they were beyond the break. Birdie watched the dark shape of shark cruise slowly under the boat and then the bottom dropped away and there was nothing but dark, blue green water. She pointed the boat as northerly as she could without luffing the sail. When she was happy she wrapped the line around the wooden cleat, looped it back under itself and sat back, letting her body relax for the first time since she'd hopped in.
+
+She glanced at Francis, he was leaning over the side, dragging his hand in the water. Birdie pulled her handline out of her pocket and baited the hook, she dropped it gently into the water, letting the speed of the boat cutting thrugh the waves carry it back away from her.
+
+The spray, the silence of the boat cutting through the water, the creak of the mast, the sound of the wind on canvas. Birdie catches a tuna on the hand line.
+
+The tack and sail up to the bank. They anchor and get out and stand on the sandbar in the middle of the ocean. 
+
+This place is so amazing. Like walking on water. A turtle swims around them. They throw out the net with one end tied to the boat. They use the boat to sail out and then jibe around and drag it back, which is when they pick of the baby dolphin. Then they come back to the bank and get out to haul in the fish. as they're pulling it in the mother dolphin attacks. At first they think it's a shark, but then birdie fingures out what's going on and goes underwater and has the enounter with the dolphin.
+
+
+They untangle it and help it back to the mother. 
+
+The dolphin rolled slightly and turned its eye toward her.
+
+Then later she's on the beach and ocean comes to her, too sudden, too fast.
+
+
+Birdie lay in the sun, feeling the warmth against the cool of her skin, the slight chill of the wind as it dried the salty drops. At first she thought perhaps it was just the linger pitch and roll of the boat, but the world seemed suddenly to undulate again, as if she were floating in the water. It came so suddenly it was terrifying, something emmense and unfathomable washed over her, a kind of blackness with a precense. She was afraid to open her eyes. A voice, no, that was the wrong word, something thought words for her, she could not understand them, a jumble of words falling in her mind so fast that she could not catch them, could not find the order of them, not even the meaning. She felt as if something massive and uncontrollably wild had seized her. She became afraid again and forced herself to breathed in slowly and then out slowly. As she did this is was like the thing gave up, she felt it slipping away. She blurted out, No! She wanted it to stay, it was just too much, too sudden she wanted to say, give me a minute, but it was already gone, slipping away, the world settled, she opened her eyes and it was just the shore, looking as it always did. She stared out a the flat horizen of the sea. Come back. But nothing happened. She got up and dressed. She hurried back to camp.
+
+
+---
+
+
+
+
+
+
+They sail in the next day, father tells a story of some kind, a gannet dives at the boat to add some drama. they reach edisto, sam and charlie, the cousins come out from Owen twon. Tamba and tk and cuthie, he gets introduced, they set up camp, play on the dunes, find the arkhangelsk, make tar, go inland to get chicle, hunt and fish and swim. Then north to Owen town, then the storm. The death of Sam and then the family heads north again.
+
+# Winter
+
+## Fire
 
-She stood up and wiggled her feet, letting them sink into the sand up to her ankles. She stood, rooted like a sago, feeling the first warm orange rays, savoring the brief moments when it seems like perhaps it would not be murderously hot by mid morning. Then she uprooted herself and walked down the slope toward the thatched hut into which her father had disappeared only moments earlier. Inside it was dark, she blinked as her eyes adjusted to reveal the thin slivers of light from the windows, the rathers, hung with dried fish and herbs, roots and tubers she and Lilah had dug weeks before. Plants Tamba had shown them that he and his people had learned from the Edisto. There was plenty to eat in the mashes and pine forests if you knew where to look. Still the hutt smelled as it always did, of the sea and fish. There was fishy smell inside that rarely left since most of what the family ate came from the sea, fish, clams, mussels, oysters as bit as Birdie's head, seaweed and tk, tk and tk, there was always a bit of the sea in the stew pot. This morning it smelled of dried fish and onions. Her mother smiled at her, asked about her dreams while she ladled the leftover stew into Birdie's bowl, a coconut shell sanded and polished smooth, carved with a scene of mermaid rising from a clam shell, something her father had seen in London. It was in fact the one and only story of London he had ever told her. 
 
 She took her bowl and stepped out into the shade of the porch her father had built. She sat on a stump and ate. The more she ate the hungrier she felt and before long whe went back inside for anoter bowl. That's my firl said her father, ladeling another bowl for her. Lilah stepped in fater her . Henri still pretended to sleep in the far corner of the hut where he slept with his mother. He was still very much a Mama's boy, probably always would be Birdie figured. 
 
@@ -387,7 +578,7 @@ Lulu stood up, she was shorter than Birdie by half a head, but she saw it too. "
 
 They looked at each other and smiled. A way out of tending the klins. Birdie quickly washed her bowl and they turned and ran back up to camp. Laughing and shouting sail. Her father turned and squinted out at the sea. He hmmmed and went inside, returning with the spyglass. He trained it on the speck still wavering at the horizen. 
 
-"Topsail, moving southeast." He handed Birdie the glass and she climbed up the nearest dune to get a better look. Southeast was no good, that meant it was headed away from them, but that made no sense, they should have spotted it earlier if it was coming out of Charles town. They've have seen it well and clear when she rounded cape and turned north, headed for London or tk or tk. The only boats that ever headed southeast were... she glanced over at her father. He was watching her, closely, she could see him smile, she watched him watch her figure it out. Raiders. It was a coasting ship that had drifted too close and, probably unbeknowst to its captain and crew, had been spotted. Word would spread south. Not from their camp, her father never passed on sea gossip as he called it, it was one of the reasons raiders came to their shore in peace, but this one obviously wasn't, which ruined Birdie's hopes of something to do other than feeding kilns. She walked back over to her father and passed the glass to Lulu.
+"Topsail, moving southeast." He handed Birdie the glass and she climbed up the nearest dune to get a better look. Southeast was no good, that meant it was headed away from them, but that made no sense, they should have spotted it earlier if it was coming out of Owen town. They've have seen it well and clear when she rounded cape and turned north, headed for London or tk or tk. The only boats that ever headed southeast were... she glanced over at her father. He was watching her, closely, she could see him smile, she watched him watch her figure it out. Raiders. It was a coasting ship that had drifted too close and, probably unbeknowst to its captain and crew, had been spotted. Word would spread south. Not from their camp, her father never passed on sea gossip as he called it, it was one of the reasons raiders came to their shore in peace, but this one obviously wasn't, which ruined Birdie's hopes of something to do other than feeding kilns. She walked back over to her father and passed the glass to Lulu.
 
 "We'll wait a bit on the fires. We've nothing to trade. And it seems they don't need to careen. We don't want to send up any smoke, might be taken as a signal and we've nothing to say." 
 
@@ -425,7 +616,7 @@ She could tell Tamba did not agree, but held his tongue. She wondered if he were
 
 Birdie pushed the canoe up onto the shore and used her pole to vault out of the stern of the boat, over the water nd land on the shore. She dragged the boat up and tied it off to a Willow that tk tkt tk more details on willow. She walked the path to Tamba and tk's house. Their house was on stilts of cypress, thatched like hers, but better and more substantially made. Tamba and his family were not travelers, they did not move camps like Birdie's family, though she had once overheard her father trying to convince Tamba to come with them when they went to their winter camp. 
 
-Cuthie was swinging on the vine at the edge of the clearing as Birdie approached. He called out to her as he leaped off the limb and swung out wide over the racks of drying meat and lines of linens hanging in the noonday sun. His white teeth gleamed in the light and made his smile seem like it was a thousand times brighter than her own. She laughed and ran across the compound, jumping at his legs as he passed over her. She scrambled up the tree to the limb he'd leapt from. The branches of the TK were worn smooth from Tamba's hands and hers and Lulu's and Henri's and Samuel'; and Charles's and countless other children who'd made the same climb to leap from the rope swing that Tamba had built. The tk nuts around the branch were she stood were gone already. She climbed up one branch higher, where the bark was still rough, fewer hands and feet had tread and she picked a tk nut. Tamba was still swinging, slower now, ever closer to equilibrium. 
+Cuthie was swinging on the vine at the edge of the clearing as Birdie approached. He called out to her as he leaped off the limb and swung out wide over the racks of drying meat and lines of linens hanging in the noonday sun. His white teeth gleamed in the light and made his smile seem like it was a thousand times brighter than her own. She laughed and ran across the compound, jumping at his legs as he passed over her. She scrambled up the tree to the limb he'd leapt from. The branches of the TK were worn smooth from Tamba's hands and hers and Lulu's and Henri's and Francis'; and Charles's and countless other children who'd made the same climb to leap from the rope swing that Tamba had built. The tk nuts around the branch were she stood were gone already. She climbed up one branch higher, where the bark was still rough, fewer hands and feet had tread and she picked a tk nut. Tamba was still swinging, slower now, ever closer to equilibrium. 
 
 When his swing had lost it's momentum he lowered himself hand over fist until he reached the end of the line and then he dropped to the forest floor. The line was just long enough, with a heavy knot at the end, that he could throw it up and over the branch where Birdie stood. 
 
@@ -440,7 +631,7 @@ It was mid afternoon by the time Papa rounded them up and set them aout gratheri
 
 They all sweated. Sweated gathering wood in the stagnant air of the hammuckss around the marsh, sweated paddling the boats back to camp in the fierce noonday sun, sweated piling the sticks beside the fire. If they were fast they were allowed to run down to the sea and jump in between runs, but even the ocean was no great relief on such days when the shallows were nearly as warm as the air around them and they had not time to make their way out to the cool depths. It was Lulu's least favorite part of the year, making the Arkhangelsk tar, but she knew it was also the most important part of the year. She often thought the only thing that would make it worse would be having to tan hides while tending the kilns. She never complained about working the kilns or gathering wood though. She did however, complain plenty about tanning hides. Who didn't? It was a smelling boring business rubbing brains all over a hide and scrapping the fur off. She did love the shoes her mother had learned to make though. No one wore shoes in the summer, but come winter it was cold enough to want them and nothing she had ever worn felt as nice as the shoes her mother had learned to sew out of deer skin. Tk had taught her and she had learned from a Edisto woman who'd helped Tamba and tk survive after they had washed up on the island just off the coast. 
 
-The storm had been an early one, Tamba and tk were on captain tk's boat, bound for boston with a prize they'd taken off the coast of Florida when the storm came out of the south. Their captain tried to put in at Charles town, but they did not make it, the wind broke the mast and sent the boat over. Tamba and tk knew how to swim, the rest of the crew did not. Even so, they were lucky. They clung to piece of broken mast and managed to steer themselves in the heavy chop such that they madeit to shore. Tamba told of seeing a shark in the shallows on the way in, even it was so bewildered by the storm it showed no interest in them, merely passing by close enough to touch, though Tamba did not, before settling into their wake where it stayed until the water became too shallow for it.
+The storm had been an early one, Tamba and tk were on captain tk's boat, bound for boston with a prize they'd taken off the coast of Florida when the storm came out of the south. Their captain tried to put in at Owen town, but they did not make it, the wind broke the mast and sent the boat over. Tamba and tk knew how to swim, the rest of the crew did not. Even so, they were lucky. They clung to piece of broken mast and managed to steer themselves in the heavy chop such that they madeit to shore. Tamba told of seeing a shark in the shallows on the way in, even it was so bewildered by the storm it showed no interest in them, merely passing by close enough to touch, though Tamba did not, before settling into their wake where it stayed until the water became too shallow for it.
 
 ---
 
@@ -448,13 +639,12 @@ The storm had been an early one, Tamba and tk were on captain tk's boat, bound f
 
 Details on the day of lighting the kilns, games the kids play, treats they eat, the last bit of gum chichle. Then the fishing 
 
-When you drink or eat something you do not just drink the liquid or eat the flesh of the thing, you consume it's spirit as well. Different things have different spirits. The spirit in the rum, it is not a good spirit. Some it comes to very strongly, it takes them and makes them do as it wishes, sends them nowhere but in search of more of itself. Others it visits and then leaves, it all depends. Some days it visits me and leave, some days it visits me and wants to stay even after I no longer want it, so I decided one day to let it in my no more. It is not the way of our people I do not think. I do not know, we did not have it back home. There was Vodka, but that was a think of the lowlanders. We did not drink it. It we knew had a strong spirit. For us there is the sea, it has the strong spirit of anything, I would rather stand on it's shore for one minute and task it's salt air than have a lifetime of rum. That is the spirit I want to spend my time with.
 
 Her Papa was a quiet man, prone to grunts and nods in lieu of the sort of comforting, I heard you type of comments most people make. He was often absorbed in a task to the degree that he seemed utterly unaware of the world around him and yet sometimes Lulu would notice that he was also watching her, watching her sister and not in fact missing anything that was going on around him at all, that he was in fact more aware of what she was doing than she was. She would pause and think about this sometimes and try to focus herself more fully on what she was doing, if she sould not take in the whole world around her like her father she could at least, she reasoned, pay closer attention to what she was doing.
 
 Thsi time of year that meant gathering grasses and helping tend the fires of the kilns. The family had three kilns which burned around the clock for weeks as the stumps slowly burned down and the sap dripped slowly down to fill the buckets below. It was a hot, dangerous time of boil liquids, burning fires and other hazards which Lulu dreaded. No one had ever been burned too badly, though her father had once scalded his hand badly enough that the skin had come off. He made sure that the children did not handle the sap until it had cooled to a less scaulding temperture.
 
-The sago palm fronds clattered in the wind, a clicking ticking sound like the women's shoes on the plank sidewalks of Charles town.
+The sago palm fronds clattered in the wind, a clicking ticking sound like the women's shoes on the plank sidewalks of Owen town.
 
 ---
 
@@ -484,7 +674,7 @@ They had arrived early in the morning, the air still heald the wet chill of nigh
 
 "Will they? "
 
-Her father brought down the glass, and looked down at her. "I don't know. I only know who is where. Last I head Whydah Gally was up that way. Bellamy'd certainly take her, sitting low in the water like that. Not gold, but something out of Charles town." He stared off at the ship, "but you never know. The sea decides."
+Her father brought down the glass, and looked down at her. "I don't know. I only know who is where. Last I head Whydah Gally was up that way. Bellamy'd certainly take her, sitting low in the water like that. Not gold, but something out of Owen town." He stared off at the ship, "but you never know. The sea decides."
 
 He jumped down the to the deck and rubbed her head. "It's always cat and mouse. That's why I stay out of it. Who are you rooting for?"
 
@@ -540,7 +730,7 @@ How what of the cousins They live further up hte river with Cuthie I think, they
 
 After dinner the grownups sat afround the fire, Birdie pretended to be asleep, the san was cool on her the skin of her arm, the warmth of the fire . That would not make sense, it's summer. That even a thunderstorm rolls in, cools off the land, the sunsets throught he clouds, the sound of the thunder was like drmming, a marshall, marching ound that advanced across the waves toward them. It was early, far to early for a big storm, those came later, at the end of summer, the first on was the sign it was time to move south, time to head to St Augustine for the winter. This was a thunderstorm from the south. A tk, Tamba called them. It brought a strange drop in temeprature as iff the storm were sucking something out of summer, giving it a viseral punch in the gut. No, as if summer were grathering herself up, taking a deeep breath, a momentary pause from her usual swelter to give them some reprieve. 
 
-Birdie noticed at adults felt it too. After a dinner of fish stew mopped up with bannock, her father pulled out his fiddle and Tamba joined in with some driftwood rasps he'd been working on. The Fiddle and percussion dueled and danced with each other in Birdie's head, first her father leading then Tamba stepping to the front, stomping with his foot to add bass to his scratch and clack percussion.Mama stood up and began to slowly sway her hips, as if the music were pulling her about like a puppet. Auntie tk came back up from the beach and swung immediately into the dance, taking up her sister's arm. Mama danced tk, her braid twisting back and forth, her feet light on the sand. The music found a patterm and the dancers hooked arms like the instruments and began to turn each other. Her uncle attempted to joun in, but neither would make room for him and he sat down again to smoke. 
+Birdie noticed at adults felt it too. After a dinner of fish stew mopped up with bannock, her father pulled out his fiddle and Tamba joined in with some driftwood rasps he'd been working on. The Fiddle and percussion dueled and danced with each other in Birdie's head, first her father leading then Tamba stepping to the front, stomping with his foot to add bass to his scratch and clack percussion.Mama stood up and began to slowly sway her hips, as if the music were pulling her about like a puppet. Auntie Māra came back up from the beach and swung immediately into the dance, taking up her sister's arm. Mama danced tk, her braid twisting back and forth, her feet light on the sand. The music found a patterm and the dancers hooked arms like the instruments and began to turn each other. Her uncle attempted to joun in, but neither would make room for him and he sat down again to smoke. 
 
 It wasn't until Henri came rushing in that the sisters broke apart their dance and both reached down to each take one of Henri's arms and they began to turn in the circle, Henri pushing them ever faster. Papa picked up on it, bringing his playing in line with the increasing speed of the dance until all of them were frantically spinning and finally spin apart, spilling into the sand. Papa pulled mama into his lap wrapped his arms around her and began to play again, gesturing to Lulu, your turn. Lulu and Birdie and Henri began their own dance. 
 
@@ -554,7 +744,7 @@ She woke up completely. She could almost picture the surprised on Papa's face. I
 
 "I've built a boat." Birdie's eyes sprung open, he has? 
 
-"I want to sail up to Charles town, trade the furs I've been stockpiling and then use that money to get some supplies and take the boat south."
+"I want to sail up to Owen town, trade the furs I've been stockpiling and then use that money to get some supplies and take the boat south."
 
 "That boat of yours won't make it. We'll have to tar her this summer, re-mast her if we can.
 
@@ -588,7 +778,7 @@ Her father said nothing.
 
 "No. I don't deny that there are people I know in St Augustine who sail. You have that much right."
 
-Birdie thought of her winter camp. It was much like their summer camp, though there were hardly any trees near the coast. No pines anyway. There were alligators. She spent her time fishing. Her father often worked on ships and did other jobs around town. She loved winter camp, but there was no one to play with and the idea that Samuel and Charles might come to it nearly made her jump up and cry out, yes, yes please come. 
+Birdie thought of her winter camp. It was much like their summer camp, though there were hardly any trees near the coast. No pines anyway. There were alligators. She spent her time fishing. Her father often worked on ships and did other jobs around town. She loved winter camp, but there was no one to play with and the idea that Francis and Owen might come to it nearly made her jump up and cry out, yes, yes please come. 
 
 I'm not even sure we're going this year.
 
@@ -606,7 +796,7 @@ Birdie risked a peek through the veil of eyelashes. She could see her father, he
 
 "The British are already here."
 
-"True. But more of them are coming. Many more. They're headed for Nassau. They need to bring it in line or they'll lose it forever. But they'll get around to Charles town eventually. We'll need to be gone before that."
+"True. But more of them are coming. Many more. They're headed for Nassau. They need to bring it in line or they'll lose it forever. But they'll get around to Owen town eventually. We'll need to be gone before that."
 
 You're just going to leave? You can't just leave.
 
@@ -614,7 +804,7 @@ Sure I can.
 
 But you're known here, you have a life here, people need you here.
 
-for once Birdie agreed with her Uncle, though the thought of the birish made her angry. She did not like the British. Their soldiers were always drunk, their sailors cruel and unwashed, dirty med who briught nothing but pain and misery to anwhere they went it seemed to here, as far as she had ever seen anyway. Once in Charles town the soldiers in the market had pokd the slave in the market with sticks, did the slave market exist yet?
+for once Birdie agreed with her Uncle, though the thought of the birish made her angry. She did not like the British. Their soldiers were always drunk, their sailors cruel and unwashed, dirty med who briught nothing but pain and misery to anwhere they went it seemed to here, as far as she had ever seen anyway. Once in Owen town the soldiers in the market had pokd the slave in the market with sticks, did the slave market exist yet?
 
 Let the british come, do you really thing they can control everything, be everywhere?
 
@@ -630,7 +820,7 @@ Her father walked off toaward the ocean. Birdie saw him in the moon light take o
 
 Her uncle sat on the log, looking around awkwardly. She could hear him muttering something to himself, but could not make out was it was. She rolled over and stared up at the sky.
 
-The British. Coming to Charles town. She watched shooting stars and started to count them, but her eyes kept sliding shut. When she opened them again the sun was just cresting the sea.
+The British. Coming to Owen town. She watched shooting stars and started to count them, but her eyes kept sliding shut. When she opened them again the sun was just cresting the sea.
 
 
 ## Storm
@@ -663,7 +853,7 @@ He smiled at her and turned to their mother. "Yes, mama, I am sure."
 
 What about tk uncle?
 
-Her father glanced out at sea. "I'm sure he'll stay in Charles town."
+Her father glanced out at sea. "I'm sure he'll stay in Owen town."
 
 "You're sure."
 
@@ -747,7 +937,7 @@ They bury him on land. The little boy, puffy and white, down. Chunks of flesh mi
 
 ---
 
-Scene of lulu and Bridie sailing with their father. The boat is a small coastal cruiser, junk rigged perhaps, or liek a dhak from the aftrican, Tamba and her father build the boat, cata maran single outrigger, oah rigged, triangular inverted sail, fast, stable, next to no draw, can handle some open water, but good at navigating inlet and marshes and rivers. Big enough to hold a descent catch, but also fast and capable to runnig good in from a ship to shore under the cover of sarkness. Her father helps unload ships that sail that come in the beginning. The firls see their father take the boat out at night. Meet the sail. He helps bring treasue and men ashore. Load it into wagons and smuggle it into Charles twon. guns and run. Lulu and Birdie get to help , this is their fist time. perhaps, something similar to ricing camp disaster? does that fir or do they simply see it happen and her father tells the story abroudn the fire. 
+Scene of lulu and Bridie sailing with their father. The boat is a small coastal cruiser, junk rigged perhaps, or liek a dhak from the aftrican, Tamba and her father build the boat, cata maran single outrigger, oah rigged, triangular inverted sail, fast, stable, next to no draw, can handle some open water, but good at navigating inlet and marshes and rivers. Big enough to hold a descent catch, but also fast and capable to runnig good in from a ship to shore under the cover of sarkness. Her father helps unload ships that sail that come in the beginning. The firls see their father take the boat out at night. Meet the sail. He helps bring treasue and men ashore. Load it into wagons and smuggle it into Owen twon. guns and run. Lulu and Birdie get to help , this is their fist time. perhaps, something similar to ricing camp disaster? does that fir or do they simply see it happen and her father tells the story abroudn the fire. 
 
 Need to get wise old Tamba in camp and telling stories. Not necessaryly all african stories. He;s sailed widely, all around the world and knows stories from nearly every culture. He becomes a way to get out of the rut of any one point of view. He tells tails I can borrow from the myths of many cultures. Thwich means I can't be accursed the approation, or at least not any one appropriation. If you steal from everyone everyon will be mad. Might as well I suupose. What's the harm. If you're going to go, go all the way.