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@@ -165,7 +165,7 @@ Everyone on the island had seen them come in, but they were still too deep in th 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 pulled the edge of the sheet down over her head. The world was already bright. She sat up to look around. -She was named Linnea after her father's friend in the old country, but her mother called her Lulu the only day she saw her. It stuck. 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 ninth year. +She was named Linnea after her father's friend in the old country, but her mother called her Lulu the only day she saw her. It stuck. 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 tenth year. Her skin was brown from long days in the sun. She was thin, but strong. Her body all bone and taut ropey muscle. Her hair was brown with blond streaks bleached by the summer sun. She licked her lip, pulling beads of sweat into her mouth and savoring the salty flavor. *You are the sea, you sweat the sea all day every day.* @@ -173,15 +173,15 @@ She sat on a low rising dune a hundred yards from the shoreline. The eastern sky She wrapped the sheet, which had once been Wanderer's foresail, around her shoulders and walked down the beach toward the wreck of *Arkhangelsk*. The *Arkhangelsk* was the second best thing about winter camp, after her cousins and the other children of the island. The *Arkhangelsk* was her ship. Well, *their* ship. The island's ship really, but Lulu thought of it as her ship. Wanderer might be her home, but *Arkhangelsk* was *her* ship. -*Arkhangelsk* was a 42-foot 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 leaky to be repaired. Even a coat of the quality tar that Lulu's family was known for making wasn't going to save the *Ave Marie*. 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. +*Arkhangelsk* was a 42-foot 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 leaky to be repaired. Even a coat of the quality tar that Lulu's family was known for wasn't going to save the *Ave Marie*. 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. -Two years ago a huge storm that Lulu had fortunately not experienced personally had washed the Ave Marie up and into the dunes. Her main mast was destroyed, but the rest of her, somehow, remained mostly intact. The next year another storm had brought a huge tidal surge that swamped the dunes, lifting *Arkhangelsk*, as Lulu and Bridie had by then renamed her, spinning her around, pointing the bow to the sea in the process. Most of her stern had been torn off that time but as she settled back into the shifting dunes, the top deck leveled out and she wasn't hard to climb. +Two years ago a huge storm that Lulu had fortunately not experienced personally had washed the Ave Marie up and into the dunes. Her main mast was destroyed, but the rest of her, somehow, remained mostly intact. The next year another storm had brought a huge tidal surge that swamped the dunes, lifting *Arkhangelsk*, as Lulu and Birdie had by then renamed her, spinning her around, pointing the bow to the sea in the process. Most of her stern had been torn off that time but as she settled back into the shifting dunes, the top deck leveled out and she wasn't hard to climb. -Lulu stood atop a dune studying her now. She still listed a little to port, but not much more than last year, and not so much that you couldn't race around the upper deck just like you could on Wanderer, but you could race around *Arkhangelsk* as much as you wanted and no one would give you a job to keep you busy like they would on Wanderer. Well, Captain Birdie might try, but just let her. Lulu ignored Captain Birdie's orders anyway. +Lulu stood atop a dune studying her now. She still listed a little to port, but not much more than last year, and not so much that you couldn't race around the upper deck just like you could on Wanderer, but you could race around *Arkhangelsk* as much as you wanted and no one would give you a job to keep you busy like they would on Wanderer. Well, Captain Birdie might try, but just let her. Lulu ignored Captain Birdie's orders. Lulu walked around the *Arkhangelsk*, comparing her memory of it to the way it looked now. If there had been a storm over the summer it didn't seem to have affected 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. Tar was too valuable. -She watched the sun rise over the sea from the deck. The wind was already blowing strongly offshore. White peaks churned in the wind tossed sea, blending white and green and murky brown waters into the kind of messy chop no one wanted to sail. It looked like the winter sea. It was technically still summer, but clearly the sea was already thinking of winter. She was glad they'd made it in last night. If they were trying this morning they'd have never made it. +She watched the sun rise over the sea from the deck. The wind was blowing offshore, maybe 15 knots of it Lulu estimated. White peaks churned in the wind tossed sea, blending white and green and murky brown waters into the kind of messy chop no one wanted to sail. It looked like the winter sea. It was summer yet, but the sea was already thinking of winter. She was glad they'd made it in last night. If they were trying this morning they'd have never made it. She sighed and went to retrieve her sheet. Wanderer was waiting. She already knew she'd be yelled at for not helping out. She was always being yelled at for not cleaning up, not helping load, not helping unload, not helping keep the ship ship shape. She hated those words. Ship shape. It sounded stupid. Who wanted something ship shape? And why was swabbing even a thing? Normal people mopped. Why did sailors have to swab? Even the word made it sound harder. And it was, it was like mopping while standing on the back of a horse. "Perfect Jujutsu training," Kobayashi was always telling them. The thought of Jujutsu made her want to get back. Her father had promised she and her sister could start to train this year and she intended to beat Birdie. Her sister might be bigger, but Lulu was sure she was faster. She just needed to do more swabbing maybe. She jumped off the bow into the soft sand and began walking back toward the marsh where Wanderer waited to be unloaded. @@ -191,7 +191,7 @@ On the way she walked over the dunes into the area that would become her home fo When she got to Wanderer everyone was already up and unloading barrels. There was no breakfast in sight and her stomach was growling. "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. Henry and Birdie were bringing things up from the hold and stacking them as best they could with the deck listing hard to starboard. Wanderer was aground now that the tide was out. -Her father and Tamba were alongside Wanderer, looking over the pirogue, which had been stored for months now in the hold. They seemed satisfied with it and set it in the muddy water next to Wanderer. The pirogue was small, narrow boat, like a canoe but with a sail. They called it *Delos* because like the island it seem to float between worlds. It could comfortably hold three people and load of cargo. It could hold more if you didn't mind being uncomfortable. It was what they used to fish the bank, get upriver to the trading post, and get back and forth between shore and any ships anchored offshore. +Her father and Tamba were alongside Wanderer, looking over the pirogue, which had been stored for months now in the hold. They seemed satisfied with it and set it in the muddy water next to Wanderer. The pirogue was a small, narrow boat, like a canoe but with a sail. They called it *Delos* because like the island it seem to float between worlds. It could comfortably hold three people and a load of cargo. It could hold more if you didn't mind being uncomfortable. It was what they used to fish the bank, get upriver to the trading post, and get back and forth between shore and any ships anchored offshore. She was about to ask her father where Aunt Māra and her cousins were when she felt herself grabbed from behind and swept off the ground into her Aunt Māra's arms. She was squeezed tight against a warm soft chest. "Lulu. I've missed you so much." Aunt Māra kissed her cheeks before she put her down and spun her around. Lulu wrapped her arms around her. "Māra, I missed you." @@ -211,9 +211,9 @@ Henry and Owen saved her from further awkwardness by zooming by at top speed, ch 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 Henry 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 cooking with Aunt Māra, training with Kobayashi, or exploring the rivers and marshes in Delos. She loved sailing the muddy, reedy shallows. She love to drift along under the big oaks that stretched out over the river. She loved to beach the little boat and use the vines hanging down from the oak branches to swing out over the river and drop midstream, into delicious cool pools of black water. Sometimes she would spend the afternoon hunting plants in the thickets. Other days she raided birds nests of their eggs. Maybe, she reasoned, she had the biggest team of all. Maybe the whole island was her team. This thought made her smile. -Lulu went back up onto the ship to help gather up the cooking pots, taking extra care with Kobayashi's precious rice steaming baskets. Kobayashi was Japanese and while he would eat the rice that was grown in the Carolinas because he wasn't about to starve to death, whenever he could he bought rice from ships returning from Asia. He never boiled it, he shook his head at the way the Africans and Lulu's family boiled their rice. Instead he boiled water and put the rice in a woven basket over the boiling water and let the steam cook it. It took longer, but even Tamba admitted it was the best rice he'd ever had. Lulu would never tell Kobayashi, but she liked the Carolina rice better. It was mushier, nuttier. It became part of the fish stews in ways that Kobayashi's rice never did. Although she liked his better when they were eating dried fish or Pemmican at sea. Maybe, she thought as she walked down the path to camp, she liked both kinds of rice. Maybe there wasn't a best rice, maybe there was the best rice for each thing. That was what Papa always said, there is no best, best for this, best for that, best for now, but no best always. +Lulu went back up onto the ship to help gather up the cooking pots, taking extra care with Kobayashi's precious rice steaming baskets. Kobayashi was Japanese and while he would eat the rice that was grown in the Carolinas because he wasn't about to starve to death, whenever he could he bought rice from ships returning from Asia. He never boiled it, he shook his head at the way the Africans and Lulu's family boiled their rice. Instead he boiled water and put the rice in a woven basket over the boiling water and let the steam cook it. It took longer, but even Tamba admitted it was the best rice he'd ever had. Lulu would never tell Kobayashi, but she liked the Carolina rice better. It was mushier, nuttier. It became part of the fish stews in ways that Kobayashi's rice never did. Although she liked his better when they were eating dried fish or Pemmican at sea. Maybe, she thought as she walked down the path to camp, she liked both kinds of rice. Maybe there wasn't a best rice, maybe there was the best rice for each thing. That was what Papa always said, there is no best, best for this, best for that, best for now, but no best always. Be flexible Lulu. -All morning Lulu helped haul food and gear out of Wanderer and down the trail to the cluster of dunes at the south eastern tip of the island. Here, alongside the mouth of the southern Edisto river they used a sheltered area of dunes to make camp. It had been their winter home for three years now, ever since the northern end of the island shifted and the water turned too salty to even cook with. Her cousins continued to make their camp at the north end of the island. +All morning Lulu helped haul food and gear out of Wanderer and down the trail to the cluster of dunes at the south eastern tip of the island. Here, alongside the mouth of the southern Edisto river they used a sheltered area of dunes to make camp. It had been their winter home for three years now, ever since the northern end of the island shifted and the water turned too salty to even cook with. Her cousins continued to make their camp at the north end of the island and had to spend a good bit of time hauling water. Lulu was glad she did not have to haul water. Kobayashi, Tamba and her father set about constructing their camp, which consisted of little more than a thatched hut, built to a design the native people, most of whom were now gone, had shown them. It was, as all great shelters are, ingeniously simple. First they set up a pole structure made half of oak timbers, which gave it strength, and half of pine timbers, which were bent to give it shape. The structure was then covered with thatching made of reeds. Her father and Tamba had the basic structure done by mid afternoon. For the time being they draped an old, but freshly tarred, sail over the top to stop the rain. In the next few weeks everyone would chip in to make the thatching, which would slowly take the place of the sail cloth. Eventually it would cover the entire hut, down to the sand, except for one spot toward the rear, which her father called the back door. No one ever used it, but you could, if you lay down and wormed or rolled your way under the last layer of thatch, slip outside. @@ -229,35 +229,37 @@ Birdie and Henry were down by the shoreline gathering small stones to fill some When her father and Kobayashi returned Lulu went to help unload the stones, but they were too heavy for her to carry. She contented herself gathering wood for the fire. She grabbed a leather strap and headed for the oak forest at the back of the island. It wasn't hard to find wood. The past summer's storms had brought down plenty of dry oak branches that lay amongst the sandy leave debris of the forest floor. Lulu ducked into some thickets of palmetto to see what had made its home in them this year. She flushed a few quail, and started a dozen squirrels angrily chattering and twitching their thick fuzzy tails at her. When she had enough twigs and small branches to fill the leather thong, she looped it tight, heaved the bundle onto her shoulder, and headed back to camp. -Her father arranged the tripod and tested its balance with a kettle full of water. They carried a number of large kettles, far larger than they needed to cook for the six of them, for occasions when a ship came to careen. Then whole crews of men, sometimes as many as a hundred would eat with them. Usually Tamba would kill a few pigs on those occasions. Last summer some sailors had managed to kill a bear. +Her father arranged the tripod and tested its balance with a kettle full of water. They carried a number of large kettles, far larger than they needed to cook for the six of them, for occasions when a ship came to careen. Then whole crews of men, sometimes as many as a hundred would eat with them. Usually Tamba would kill a few pigs on those occasions. Last summer some sailors had managed to kill a bear. After seeing it cleaned and dressed Lulu swore she would never eat it. She noticed no one in her crew ate the bear in the end. Lulu sat now and watched as Papa lit a fire. He said a prayer thanking Hestia, goddess of the hearth, and threw some Frankincense resin on the flames. The sweet, light scent of Frankincense filled the air in the dunes. It smelled like home to Lulu. -With the fire going her father and Kobayashi began setting up the final element of camp, the ring. They took a circular piece of sailcloth about 20 feet in diameter with brass grommets ringing the outer edge, spaced about two feet apart. At each grommet there was a thin strip of leather which looped through the grommet and was tied off to a wooden stake at the other end. The stakes were then pounded into the sand and buried so that circle of sail cloth, while not quite taut, was tight enough to be swept free of sand. This was the ring in which they trained. +With the fire going her father and Kobayashi began setting up the final element of camp, the ring. They took a circular piece of sailcloth about 20 feet in diameter with brass grommets ringing the outer edge, spaced about two feet apart. At each grommet there was a thin strip of leather which looped through the grommet and was tied off to a wooden stake at the other end. The stakes were then pounded into the sand and buried so that the circle of sail cloth, while not quite taut, was tight enough to be swept free of sand. This was the ring in which they trained. -Everyone aboard *Wanderer* was expect to wrestle. Skilled wrestling, which Kobayashi insisted should be called Jujutsu, was the only practical self-defense on a ship. The deck of a ship is a crowded place. Coiled lines are everywhere, capstands, booms, rigging, railings, and dozens of other things scattered about make wielding a sword difficult. As her father told it, the ship he and the others had served together on was attacked by pirates off the coast of Batavia. While others swung swords wildly, rarely hitting their mark, Kobayashi came bounding out of the hold unarmed, but began ducking and weaving around the deck, knocking people out, flinging them overboard, and occasionally killing them, all without ever touching a weapon. Later, after the boarding party was repelled, and the ship out of harms way, her father had pulled Kobayashi aside and asked him to teach him how to fight like he had fought. This was the beginning of their friendship. Once trained her father had become a devotee of the Jujutsu way as Kobayashi explained it and he insisted that everyone, even young Henry, train in Jujutsu. +Everyone aboard *Wanderer* was expect to wrestle. Skilled wrestling, which Kobayashi insisted should be called Jujutsu, was the only practical self-defense on a ship. The deck of a ship is a crowded place. Coiled lines are everywhere, capstands, booms, rigging, railings, and dozens of other things scattered about make wielding a sword difficult. As her father told it, the ship he and the others had served together on was attacked by pirates off the coast of Batavia. While others swung swords wildly, rarely hitting their mark, Kobayashi came bounding out of the hold unarmed, but began ducking and weaving around the deck, knocking people out, flinging them overboard, and occasionally killing them, all without ever touching a weapon. Later, after the boarding party was repelled, and the ship out of harms way, her father had pulled Kobayashi aside and asked him to teach him how to fight like he had fought. This was the beginning of their friendship. Once trained her father had become a devotee of the Jujutsu way. Her father then insisted that everyone in his crew, even young Henry, train in Jujutsu. However, while the children trained, they were not allowed to spar with each other or fight to submission. Until their tenth year, which Lulu and Birdie were now in. -Lulu watched as her father and Tamba finished staking out the ring. When that last spike was buried they both looked at each and her father gestured to the center. Tamba nodded and stripped off his shirt. Lulu still flinched at the scars on his back every time she saw them. After shaking hands they began to slowly circle each other with the steady patience of two fighters who knew each other well. Lulu watched as they both visible slowed their breathing, their diaphragms expanding with each inhale. Her father came in first, but he was too hasty, Tamba dropped on top of his back and forced him down. Tamba hooked his feet around her father's legs, rolled over and spun at the same time, reversed him. Her father rolled into Tamba, blocking him from taking mount, but Tamba slid lightly to the side, dragging her father's arm out between Tamba's legs and them moving his hips up until the arm began to hyperextend. Her father tapped Tamba with his other arm. Tamba released him and they both sat up smiling. They slapped hands and bumped fists the way Kobayashi had taught them. It was over so fast Lulu wasn't able to learn much, though she kept thinking that her father had ducked in too soon. Patience, was what he always told her. Know the difference between patience and passivity he said, but sometimes he couldn't see his own impatience. +Lulu watched as her father and Tamba finished staking out the ring. When the last spike was buried they looked at each other. Her father smiled. He gestured to the center. Tamba nodded and stripped off his shirt. Lulu still flinched at the scars on his back every time she saw them. Long thick welts of tissue rose up in rows on either side of his spine. The remnants of floggings suffered some place, some time Tamba never spoke of. -While everyone was expected to wrestle, Lulu, Birdie, and Henry were given on limited instructions. Mostly they were expected to watch and learn. Until this year. This year they would begin to train with Kobayashi, Tamba, and their father guiding them. Lulu made a note to herself in her head. Don't rush into Birdie. Take your time. Know the difference between patience and passivity. +After shaking hands her father and Tamba began to slowly circle each other with the steady patience of two fighters who knew each other well. Lulu watched as they both visibly slowed their breathing, their diaphragms expanding with each inhale. Her father came in first, but he was too hasty, Tamba dropped on top of his back and forced him down. As he fell Tamba spun on top of him, hooked his feet around her father's legs, and rolled over, reversing their positions so he had her father's back. + +Her father got his chin down before Tamba could apply a choke, but Tamba had his back. She watched her father close his eyes and relax even as Tamba began trying to dig his forearm under her father's chin. In a single fluid movement her father seemed to uncoil and Tamba lost his grip, but spun his legs around across her father's chest, using his own momentum against him. When her father paused to adjust his movement, Tamba seized his wrist and began dragging her father's arm out. Once he had it between his legs, Tamba began lifting his hips up until the arm began to hyperextend. Her father tapped Tamba with his other arm. Tamba released him and they both sat up smiling. They slapped hands and bumped fists the way Kobayashi had taught them. It was over so fast Lulu wasn't able to learn much, though she kept thinking that her father had ducked in too soon. Patience, was what he always told her. Know the difference between patience and passivity he said, but sometimes he couldn't see his own impatience. Would she see her impatience? Lulu made a note to herself in her head. Don't rush into Birdie. Take your time. Know the difference between patience and passivity. --- -The long afternoon shadows began to race their way across the clearing they'd be calling home for the next six to eight months. Lulu turned and looked west. A little back from camp there was a line of oak trees that then gave way to the marsh where Wanderer would be anchored for the season. In the shade of 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 Edisto River. 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. +The long afternoon shadows began to race their way across the dunes. Lulu turned and looked west. A little back from camp there was a line of oak trees that then gave way to the marsh where Wanderer would be anchored for the season. In the shade of 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 Edisto River. 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 ate dinner as the sun set through the trees behind their half-finished hut. Lulu went down to the shore and rinsed her abalone bowl. The air had a hint of chill at the edge of it. The sea was cold on her feet. When she came back her father and Kobayashi were laying oak logs on the coals that had cooked dinner. It wasn't long before the fire was roaring and light filled the circle of dune. Lulu sat on a log of gray driftwood and watched her Uncle Cole play the fiddle while Birdie and her father danced in circles. Henry and Owen sat on a log next to her Aunt Māra and directly across the fire. Lulu smiled. She like winter camp, she liked her family. She knew enough of the world to know they were different. Perhaps even odd to most people. But she didn't care. She was glad they had a place to live their lives the way they wanted to, a place they could fish, a place they could weather storms. +They ate dinner as the sun set through the trees behind their half-finished hut. Lulu went down to the shore and rinsed her abalone bowl. The air had a hint of chill at the edge of it. The sea was cold on her feet. When she came back her father and Kobayashi were laying oak logs on the coals that had cooked dinner. It wasn't long before the fire was roaring and light filled the circle of dune. Her Aunt Mara and Uncle Cole came down from their northern camp. Lulu sat on a log of gray driftwood and watched her Uncle Cole play the fiddle while Birdie and her father danced in circles. Henry and Owen sat on a log next to her Aunt Māra and directly across the fire. Lulu smiled. She like winter camp, she liked her family. She knew enough of the world to know they were different. Perhaps even odd to most people. But she didn't care. She was glad they had a place to live their lives the way they wanted to, a place they could fish, a place they could weather storms. Birdie sat down beside her, breathing hard from dancing. Her father pulled Henry up and danced with him and then he switched to Lulu. After a while Uncle Cole professed he was tired and put away the fiddle and sat down by the fire. There was catching up, plenty of poking fun, a rather long story about planting rice that Lulu lost track of in the middle when she began to doze off. It wasn't a made up story like the ones her father told around the fire on winter evenings. These were the stories Lulu wanted to hear. The stories that felt like they were real. Like the worlds he described were out there somewhere, waiting for her to discover. Worlds of pirates and ships and storms, talking animals, strange mythical creatures. Her father never failed to take what would always start as a normal story and turn it in someway that you never saw coming but afterward couldn't imagine turning out any other way. -Later she found a blanket in the pile of still unsorted belongings in the hut and went partway up a dune where she could still feel the heat the fire, but also see the stars and the sea. She fell asleep watching Castor and Pollux twinkle in the night. +Later she found a blanket in a pile of still unsorted belongings in the hut and went partway up a dune where she could feel the heat the fire, but also see the stars and the sea. She fell asleep watching Castor and Pollux twinkle in the night. ## Chapter 3: Wandren -It was hard to believe it would be cold in another turning of the moon. Birdie sat sweating in the sweltering afternoon heat, weaving swamp grass with Aunt Māra and Lulu. They were making the last five or six mats that would serve as the walls to their house. Birdie and her father had already set up the inside of the hut. Birdie loved to organize things, to find a place for everything and put everything in its place. Her father loved the result, but not the process. He left that to Birdie, only stepping in from time to time to point out something that needed to be in a particular place. Pans by the fire for instance. Birdie had wanted to hang them from the rafters in the hut, keep them away from the sand so their food wouldn't be sandy. Her father said no, pans by the fire. Where we use them. Besides, if they're on the ground they'll never fall on someone's head. +Birdie found it hard to imagine the cold that would arrive in another turn or two of the moon. Sweat trickled down her back as she sat still, weaving swamp grass with Aunt Māra and Lulu. They were making the last five or six mats that would serve as the walls to their house. Birdie and her father had already set up the inside of the hut. Birdie loved to organize things, to find a place for everything and put everything in its place. Her father loved the result, but not the process. He left that to Birdie, only stepping in from time to time to point out something that needed to be in a particular place. Pans by the fire for instance. Birdie had wanted to hang them from the rafters in the hut, keep them away from the sand so their food wouldn't be sandy. Her father said no, pans by the fire. Where we use them. Besides, if they're on the ground they'll never fall on someone's head. -She settled for hanging her bag from the rafters. Birdie made it the previous year. It was woven from spare hemp line and scrap fabric, with the occasional reed to make it more water proof. It held her sketchbook, which went everywhere with her. She loved to sketch the world around her. Shells, plants, birds, boats, the shore, the clouds, the sea. Birdie drew everything. When she wasn't drawing she was imagining the next drawing she would soon make. +Birdie settled for hanging her bag from the rafters. She made it the previous year. It was woven from spare hemp line and scrap fabric, with the occasional reed to make it more water proof. It held her sketchbook, which went everywhere with her. She loved to sketch the world around her. Shells, plants, birds, boats, the shore, the clouds, the sea. Birdie drew everything. When she wasn't drawing she was imagining the next drawing she would soon make. -She would lay in the dark of the hut at night, listening to the soft sigh of the others breathing, while shapes danced in the darkness behind her half closed eyes. She would watch them until she made some sense out of them and then arrange them into scenes, organize them, find where each belonged. Sometimes, when the moon was waxing, she could creep silently out from under the warmth of the covers, and slip outside to draw by the moonlight, or firelight if her father was still up, as he often was. He would stare at the glowing coals, she would draw, and they would be together silently in some way that felt to her deeper connected than when she was talking to someone, despite the fact that neither of them ever said a word, or even acknowledged each other's presence. +She would lay in the dark of the hut at night, listening to the soft sigh of the others breathing, while shapes danced in the darkness behind her half closed eyes. She watched them until she made some sense out of them. She would then arrange them into scenes, organize them, find where each belonged. Sometimes, when the moon was waxing, she would creep silently out from under the warmth of the covers, and slip outside to draw by the moonlight, or firelight if her father was still up, as he often was. He would stare at the glowing coals, she would draw, and they would be together, silently. In those moments she often felt a deeper connection between them than when she was talking, despite the fact that many nights neither of them said a word, or even acknowledged each other's presence. Drawing as much as she did required Birdie to make her own ink. She did it the way her father taught her, blending octopus ink and pine tar to make a dark grayish purple ink that was good for drawing outlines which she could fill with color. She made paint too. Green could be had from just about any plant, and she'd discovered how to make yellows and reds by experimenting with flowers that grew around the island. She needed a good blue though, blue had thus far eluded her. Paper and brushes were harder to come by, those she had to buy in Charlestown. @@ -337,7 +339,7 @@ And so she did. But then the scowl returned to her face. "Well I don't care if t "Owen has a good imagination," Henry said from the sand behind them. -"When he's with you maybe." Lulu did what Birdie called her hrumph, and hrumphed into silence. They sat side by side, legs drawn up, arms wrapped around them, staring out at the sea. Papa was right Birdie decided, we're different. She did not really know why or what the difference was. It wasn't something she wanted. But it was there. She knew Lulu felt it too. She wasn't sure if Henry did yet or not, but she thought so. He would eventually anyway. Still she felt sorry for Francis and Owen more than anything. They didn't get to sail much. They had to live in town half the year. And they had to live with their father. +"When he's with you maybe." Lulu did what Birdie called her hrumph, and hrumphed into silence. They sat side by side, legs drawn up, arms wrapped around them, staring out at the sea. Papa was right Birdie decided, we're different. She did not really know why or what the difference was. It wasn't something she wanted. But it was there. She knew Lulu felt it too. She wasn't sure if Henry did yet or not, but she thought so. He would eventually anyway. Still she felt sorry for Francis and Owen more than anything. They didn't get to sail much. They had to live in town half the year. And they had to live with their father. And she liked them. --- @@ -345,7 +347,7 @@ Kobayashi was digging up a roasted boar when they got back to camp. He and Tamba Her father and Henry dragged some driftwood up from the shore and soon they had a good blaze going. Her Aunt Māra and Uncle Cole came with their cousins. The incident on the beach was forgotten. The boar was sweet and salty and possibly the best thing Birdie could remember eating. The fat and juice drained into her rice and she ate until her belly ached. -The sun disappeared to the west, an orange glow in the tree line. Birdie hunted around the eastern sky for the first star, but as it always seemed to be, Venus was the first light in the sky. Should I wish upon a planet? It's a god right? Can you wish to a god? She wondered what she should wish for and then it came to her, she saw it in her mind and focused on it until it seemed almost real, and then she silently asked Venus, grant this one wish, if you like it, if you think it's a good idea. If not, it's okay. +The sun disappeared to the west, an orange glow in the tree line. Birdie hunted around the eastern sky for the first star, but as it always seemed to be, Venus was the first while light she saw. Should I wish upon a planet? It's a god right? Can you wish to a god? Probably she should pray. What was the difference between wishing and praying? She couldn't think of anything to wish for anyway, until it came to her, she saw it in her mind and focused on it until it seemed almost real, and then she silently asked Venus, grant this one wish, if you like it, if you think it's a good idea. If not, it's okay. She wasn't sure what you were supposed to say. The rhyme her father had taught her didn't really have instruction on precisely how one wishes, just that one could wish on stars. And maybe planets, hopefully planets. @@ -353,7 +355,7 @@ Across the fire Aunt Māra and Tamba were talking quietly together. Her father w "I do not think so." -Birdie glanced back and forth between the two them. Her father raised his eyebrow. +Birdie glanced back and forth between the two of them. Her father raised his eyebrow. "The Egyptians perhaps. There are stories I have heard from the northern tribes about trading for copper that came from over the seas. But my people were coastal cruisers. Why cross oceans when everything you need is right here?" Tamba stretched his arm toward the shore. "If you want to have food, you need to be by the shore. Maybe you sail out of sight sometimes, you follow the currents and migrations of the fish, but you do not need to go too far. Where I come from there is plenty of food to be had without even setting foot in a boat. You grow rice on the shores. We have yarrow and yams on the higher ground, and you cast a net in the shallows for fish. We have palms and a tree that is not here. It is very strong. Like the teak we traded in Siam. We have these trees for building shelter. Everything is there, we use it. It is only crazy people who would leave this." He smiled and gestured at her father. @@ -367,7 +369,7 @@ Her father grunted. "I didn't leave anything. I was driven out." "Yes, why?" Birdie blurted it out before she could stop herself. They all glanced over at her. -"I didn't know you where awake little one." Her father shrugged. "I don't know why. I think on this all the time. I think perhaps it is because they cannot stand the idea that not everyone is as miserable as they are." +"I didn't know you were awake little one." Her father sat silent for a moment, thinking. "I don't know why. I think on this all the time. I think perhaps it is because they cannot stand the idea that not everyone is as miserable as they are." Tamba laughed. "You may be on to something there. These people came to our shores too and seemed unable to leave us alone. And look what they do to the people on these shores. Some people Birdie, I don't know, they won't leave you alone. It is a great mystery." @@ -377,11 +379,11 @@ Her father sighed. "Drive might be the wrong word." Tamba burst out laughing. "Yes, I think it would be. I have no love of the British or any of the rest of the people you call lowlanders, but I know you well enough to know that no one could drive you out of anywhere. You'd die in a hole before you'd be driven anywhere." -Birdie expected her father to join in Tamba's laughter, but he did not. He ignored him completely. "We left Birdie because I was tired of the place we were. I wanted to go somewhere no one knew my name, somewhere I didn't have to do anything, so I could chose what I wanted to do. So I could be free of the obligations that places lay upon you." +Birdie expected her father to join in Tamba's laughter, but he did not. He ignored him completely. "We left Birdie because I was tired of the place we were. I wanted to go somewhere no one knew my name, somewhere I didn't have to do anything, so I could choose what I wanted to do. So I could be free of the obligations that places lay upon you." Kobayashi was nodding. "I too left to be free. It is a hard thing for some. For me it was easy because when I am here, I can breath, I am free, no one looks for anything from me. I an able to be who I am. Your father can be who he is," Kobayashi's eyes twinkled, "he can wear his loin clothes and do his dances by the seashore." -Now her father laughed. "I will never live down the loin cloth will I?" Everyone shook their heads. "That's what I wanted too, a place of possibility. A place individuals can do as they wish, no matter how eccentric that might be, so long as it doesn't harm anyone else or try to force anyone else to pay their bills." He shrugged. "You wouldn't think that would be so hard to find really, but it is, by god it is. I've been nearly around the world and this coast here, this is close as I have come." +Now her father laughed. "I will never live down the loin cloth will I?" Everyone shook their heads. "That's what I wanted too, a place of possibility. A place individuals can do as they wish, no matter how eccentric that might be, so long as it doesn't harm anyone else or try to force anyone else to pay your bills." He shrugged. "You wouldn't think that would be so hard to find really, but it is, by god it is. I've been nearly around the world and this coast here, this is as close as I have come." "That seems silly. Why would anyone care what you did? That would just make them stupid." @@ -401,7 +403,7 @@ Aunt Māra leaned forward and stirred the fire until a log caught and flame flic She surprised herself by saying no, that she was tired. Besides, there was too great of a chance he would play the sort of lonely sad songs that his guitar seemed to like on quiet evenings like this one. -She gathered up her quilts and walked up the rise of the dune, away from the fire and lay down in the sand, spread layers of quilt over her until she could feel a cocoon of warmth begin to form around her. She laid her head back and looked up. The dusty spray of the Milky Way spread across the sky. The hunter stood tall and strong, his bow ever at the ready. He must be with us she thought, he must be Alban. Maybe he too is looking for a place to be who he is, a place he can hunt and run free. As her eyelids drooped the stars seemed to gather up, and pull together, to rain down around her and keep her safe and warm, beside their brother the sea, where she was free. +She gathered up her quilts and walked up the rise of the dune, away from the fire and lay down in the sand, spread layers of quilt over her until she could feel a cocoon of warmth begin to form around her. She lay her head back and looked up. The dusty spray of the Milky Way spread across the sky. The hunter stood tall and strong, his bow ever at the ready. He must be with us she thought, he must be Alban. Maybe he too is looking for a place to be who he is, a place he can hunt and run free. As her eyelids drooped the stars seemed to gather up, and pull together, to rain down around her and keep her safe and warm, beside their brother the sea, where she was free. ## Chapter 4: Among the Stumps @@ -447,13 +449,13 @@ Her father always said not to fear the alligator, but to respect it. Give it a w Lulu didn't think alligators were scary anyway. She'd once been sitting on a tree trunk that had fallen out over the river. It made a good jumping platform, but this day she was just dangling her feet over, gnawing on a stick of dried fish when a small alligator swam up. It stayed a little ways back and seemed to watch her. -At first her heart leaped into her throat and beat so hard she could feel the blood pounding in her ears. But then some part of her reasoned with the fear, it was in the water, she was on a tree trunk a good five feet above the water. If it was going to try to jump at her, it would not have swum up on the surface. She turned over the situation in her mind for several minutes and eventually her heart slid back down into her chest, her breath began to come again, and she found herself strangely relaxed as the aftermath of fear, and the relief of not being eaten, washed over her. She and the alligator sat like that for some time, eyeing each other. Lulu reasoned they were probably close to the same age. Maybe not in years, but the alligator was probably about the equivalent of a seven year old, which was how old Lulu was at the time. This made her feel closer to it, they had that at least in common. It was not easy being seven. Lulu knew that. The alligator probably knew that too. What did a seven year old alligator have to do? Did it have a moody father? Was its mother alive? Did it have cousins and aunts and uncles? Did it have to stand watch? Probably not, she reasoned, alligators don't sail. Then she pictured an alligator trying to sail, an alligator propped up on its hind legs, one hand (or claw?) on the wheel, one holding a spyglass to its eye. +At first her heart leaped into her throat and beat so hard she could feel the blood pounding in her ears. But then some part of her reasoned with the fear, it was in the water, she was on a tree trunk a good five feet above the water. If it was going to try to jump at her, it would not have swum up on the surface. She turned over the situation in her mind for several minutes and eventually her heart slid back down into her chest, her breath began to come again, and she found herself strangely relaxed as the aftermath of fear, and the relief of not being eaten, washed over her. She and the alligator sat like that for some time, eyeing each other. Lulu reasoned they were probably close to the same age. Maybe not in years, but the alligator was probably about the equivalent of a eight-year-old, which was how old Lulu was at the time. This made her feel closer to it, they had that at least in common. It was not easy being eight. Lulu knew that. The alligator probably knew that too. What did an eight-year-old alligator have to do? Did it have a moody father? Was its mother alive? Did it have cousins and aunts and uncles? Did it have to stand watch? Probably not, she reasoned, alligators don't sail. Then she pictured an alligator trying to sail, an alligator propped up on its hind legs, one hand (or claw?) on the wheel, one holding a spyglass to its eye. The ridiculousness of this image helped relax her even more and she went back to eating her dried fish. The moment she took a bite though, the alligator's eyes flinched. She couldn't describe it, but she saw something almost like hurt flash through its eyes, the same sort of thing she'd seen in the eyes of her cousins' dogs, the pain of a pack animal whose pack isn't sharing its food with them. Except that alligators weren't pack animals. Or were they? Lulu wasn't sure, but she didn't think so. Still, did one need to be a pack animal to feel hurt when someone doesn't share their food? She momentarily thought of Birdie and how she always took the last bowl of food, letting everyone else have theirs first. She waved the stick of dried fish at the alligator, "you want some of this?" "Of course you do." She bit off a decent sized piece and held it up. "This is all I have, and I have to paddle all the way back to camp." She regarded the dried fish in her hand again. "Still, I know what it's like to want something and not be able to get it. So I want you to have it." Having made up her mind to do it, she tossed the fish in to the water quickly before she could change her mind. The alligator swam quickly toward it and in a movement so deft and fast Lulu barely saw it, it swallowed the stick of dried fish. -Now it was closer to Lulu, nearly at her feet. And once again they stared at each other for a long time. Lulu took another bit of fish and broke off a smaller piece and tossed it to the alligator. This time it knew what it was, and it snapped it up without hesitating. Lulu saw its teeth and for a moment she was afraid again. What if it followed her to the bank when she walked up the log and back down to the pirogue, which was tied just upstream? What if she was a fool to feed an alligator and it wasn't thinking she was nice, but trying to decided why dinner was feeding it dinner? +Now it was closer to Lulu, nearly at her feet. And once again they stared at each other for a long time. Lulu took another bit of fish and broke off a smaller piece and tossed it to the alligator. This time it knew what it was, and it snapped it up without hesitating. Lulu saw its teeth and for a moment she was afraid again. What if it followed her to the bank when she walked up the log and back down to the pirogue, which was tied just upstream? What if she was a fool to feed an alligator and it wasn't thinking she was nice, but trying to decide why dinner was feeding it dinner? She pushed these thoughts out of her head and decided she liked her original story, the alligator was cute, maybe even cuddly in some strange way, and they were friends. Until something happened to make this seem wrong, this was the story she was sticking with. She took another bite of fish and flung some to the alligator, but this time she threw it behind the creature so it had to turn around and swim the other way. She liked her story, but she also liked to cover herself. As the gator turned around and circled back to get the fish she noticed its other eye was gone. She'd been so transfixed by the eye it had kept on her she had not noticed that its second eye was gone. Before she had much time to think about it the gator swam off downstream. @@ -463,15 +465,15 @@ Remembering the alligator made Lulu want to see one. Sort of. A small one again. She jumped to another stump and looked down. It had her father's mark on it. A square inside a diamond. "Two squares really," he had once told her and her sister, "one is just rotated 90 degrees. It's easier to draw than four interlocking circles, which is what I used before." -Lulu shielded her eyes from the sun and lifted a gourd of water to her mouth. It was bitter and hot, but it coated her throat for a moment and kept her tongue from feeling so swollen. She was hot and bored. She wished she'd stayed with her sister and her aunt in camp. Even cleaning and drying fish would better than this stillness and heat. Anything to escape this relentless sun. +Lulu shielded her eyes from the sun and lifted a gourd of water to her mouth. It was bitter and hot, but it coated her throat for a moment and kept her tongue from feeling so swollen. She was hot and bored. She wished she'd stayed with her sister and her aunt in camp. Even cleaning and drying fish would be better than this stillness and heat. Anything to escape this relentless sun. Lulu was glad she had her straw hat. It had been a gift from a woman who came with a careening ship the year before. It was too small now though, it perched on her head rather than fitting snugly as it used to. She had tried soaking, stretching and pulling, but nothing worked. It was just too small for her now. "At least your head is growing," her sister had teased her that morning. -Birdie was nearly a head taller than Lulu and whenever she pointed out their difference in size4 Lulu wanted to punch her in the mouth. Instead she took off her hat and hit her sister over the head with it and growled at her like a panther. Then she ran before Birdie could retaliate. Sometimes it was intolerable to have a twin. Usually though these moments were just that, moments. They were gone as quickly as she felt them. Though she wasn't above drawing them out for a while to get at her sister. +Birdie was nearly a head taller than Lulu and whenever she pointed out their difference in size Lulu wanted to punch her in the mouth. Instead she took off her hat and hit her sister over the head with it and growled at her like a panther. Then she ran before Birdie could retaliate. Sometimes it was intolerable to have a twin. Usually though these moments were just that, moments. They were gone as quickly as she felt them. Though she wasn't above drawing them out for a while to get at her sister. -Sometimes Lulu needed to get away, to be alone. That's why she had come today with her father and Tamba out into the scorching midday sun to find stumps to dry for next winter. Her father made carvings in each stump, a square within a diamond, the beginning of wisdom he told her when she asked what it meant. Whatever that meant. They'd come back here next full moon to work in what light could be had, digging stumps and hauling then back to the beach. They would pile them in to the dunes just beyond camp, where they would lie for a year, drying like great white bones bleaching in the sand until they were so weathered they were gray. Soon Tamba and her father would repair the kilns and start making tar with the stumps they'd gathered last year. +Sometimes Lulu needed to get away, to be alone. That's why she had come today with her father and Tamba out into the scorching midday sun to find stumps to dry for next winter. Her father made carvings in each stump, a square within a diamond, the beginning of wisdom he told her when she asked what it meant. Whatever that meant. They'd come back here next full moon to work in what light could be had, digging stumps and hauling then back to the beach. They would pile them in to the dunes just beyond camp, where they would lie for a year, drying like great white bones bleaching in the sand until they were so weathered they were gray. -Lulu and Birdie and Henry, along with their cousins and friends, would gather moss and dry grass to feed the slow heat of the kilns. As the wood burned the dark pitch drained down to the bottom of the kiln and dripped into buckets set below the catch it. This was the *Arkhangelsk* tar. The way her father's people had made it for generations he said. The archangel tar that kept the ships afloat, the rigging tight, the sailors safe and bought Lulu and Birdie and Henry a place in the world, clothes to wear, food to eat and sometimes even peppermint treats or dolls or new ribbons for her hair. These stumps were the reason Lulu's life was possible. +Soon Tamba and her father would repair the kilns and start making tar with the stumps they'd gathered last year. Lulu and Birdie and Henry, along with their cousins and friends, would gather moss and dry grass to feed the slow heat of the kilns. As the wood burned the dark pitch drained down to the bottom of the kiln and dripped into buckets set below to catch it. This was what people called *Arkhangelsk* tar. The way her father's people had made it for generations he said. The archangel tar that kept the ships afloat, the rigging tight, the sailors safe and bought Lulu and Birdie and Henry a place in the world, clothes to wear, food to eat and sometimes even peppermint treats or dolls or new ribbons for her hair. These stumps were the reason Lulu's life was possible. But that didn't make the day any cooler or her patience any greater. @@ -479,15 +481,15 @@ Lulu hadn't been able to see her father or Tamba for at least an hour. They were When they finally did return, both were pouring sweat and no longer bickering about farming rice or anything else. They drank the gourd of water and sat a while in the shade in silence. Lulu sensed that asking anything at that moment would only have earned her grunts. After a few minutes her father motioned with his head and they all set off, back through the trees to the pirogue. -Her father ruffled her hair as he stepped over her into the boat. He pushed them out again, following the trail through the reeds, back to the deeper waters of the marsh, toward the river. Lulu watched the little black snails, which had climbed ever so slowly up the reeds as the tide had come in while they were hunting stumps. It was was nearly time now little snails, nearly time to slide back down, nearly time for the tide to return to the sea. +Her father ruffled her hair as he stepped over her into the boat. He pushed them out again, following the trail through the reeds, back to the deeper waters of the marsh, toward the river. Lulu watched the little black snails start their journey back down the reeds. They'd been on their way up when they came in this morning. It was nearly time now little snails, nearly time to slide back down, nearly time for the tide to return to the sea. -The moon was nearly full so she doubted they'd gather any stumps this moon. There was still too much to do. They hadn't yet been to Charlestown. Although she wasn't sure they'd go this year, with the rumors of the British around her father would probably prefer to save their trip to town for spring, when they were leaving. That was fine with Lulu. She hated town because she had to wear a dress. Most of the year she wore the clothes of the Waccamaw, a deerskin skirt that reached midway down her shins and was fringed with shells. Lulu was extremely proud of it and forever changed shells when new ones washed ashore. Unlike her sister she often wore a cotton shirt if she was going to be in the sun all day, but she had not today. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a single braid that reached nearly to her waist and had shells woven into it. She looked, aside from her slightly lighter skin, like everyone else on the island they called home. +The moon was nearly full so she doubted they'd gather any stumps this moon. There was still too much to do. They hadn't yet been to Charlestown. Although she wasn't sure they'd go this year, with the rumors of the British around her father would probably prefer to save their trip to town for spring, when they were leaving. That was fine with Lulu. She hated town because she had to wear a dress. Most of the year she wore the clothes of the Waccamaw, a deerskin skirt that reached midway down her shins and was fringed with shells. Lulu was extremely proud of it and forever changed shells when new ones washed ashore. She wore a cotton shirt of calico print with the sleeves rolled up. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a single braid that reached nearly to her waist and had shells woven into it. She looked, aside from her slightly lighter skin, like everyone else on the island they called home. -The Waccamaw have lived here for hundreds of years, probably more, her father said. There were few of them left, but enough still that her family traded with them. Her father changed their camp from a canvas tent to one of the circular pole structures he'd seen the Waccamaw use and it was still what they called home. Her father had also taken to wearing a deerskin loincloth for a while. Lulu thought he looked ridiculous with his thick black beard and hairy chest and then the little flap of deerskin which reached right above his knees and looked, no matter how long it might have been, too small on his rather large body. At nearly six feet their father towered over almost everyone on the island. Tamba shook his head and walked away when he'd seen her father in the loin cloth. Later he told Lulu, "You should have seen when he tried the grass skirts." Kobayashi threatened to sign on with the Royal Navy if her father didn't go back to wearing pants. Her father became rather indignant. "They've lived here longer than we have, I expect they know what's best to wear," he said. But after a few days, and a badly sunburned butt, he had returned to wearing pants. +The Waccamaw have lived here for hundreds of years, probably more, her father said. There were few of them left. Her father liked to go up river and meet with them. He claimed he learned more from them in an hour than he had in two years spent in London. Her father had even taken to wearing a deerskin loincloth for a while. Lulu thought he looked ridiculous with his thick black beard and hairy chest and then the little flap of deerskin which reached right above his knees and looked, no matter how long it might have been, too small on his rather large body. At nearly six feet their father towered over almost everyone on the island. Tamba shook his head and walked away when he'd seen her father in the loin cloth. Later he told Lulu, "You should have seen when he tried the grass skirts." Kobayashi threatened to sign on with the Royal Navy if her father didn't go back to wearing pants. Her father became rather indignant. "They've lived here longer than we have, I expect they know what's best to wear," he said. But after a few days, and a badly sunburned butt, he had returned to wearing pants. -This was how he looked in her earliest memories and how she preferred he look all the time. Lulu looked back at him now, pushing them slowly along, still sweating, eyes fixed on some point in the distance. Lulu loved her father, but often felt lost around him. He could be stern, or even cross with her or Birdie or Henry, at times, but more often he just seemed to be elsewhere, lost in depths of thought no one, not even Tamba seemed able to plumb. The worst was that he often returned from wherever this far away place was quickly with startling bursts of temper. Just as often though it was laughter. What was hard was figuring out which it would be at any given moment. When they were at sea, it was always laughter. On the land, it was hard to tell. +This was how he looked in her earliest memories and how she preferred he look all the time. Lulu looked back at him now, pushing them slowly along, still sweating, eyes fixed on some point in the distance. Lulu loved her father, but often felt lost around him. He could be stern, or even cross with her or Birdie or Henry, at times, but more often he just seemed to be elsewhere, lost in depths of thought no one, not even Tamba seemed able to plumb. The worst was that he often returned from wherever this far away place was quickly with startling bursts of temper. Just as often though it was laughter. The hard part was figuring out which it would be at any given moment. When they were at sea, it was always laughter. On the land, it was hard to tell. -Lulu thought about this, about the mother she never knew, about things she barely remembered, different rivers, different marshes, different shorelines with the cold smell of wet mud and salt brine, the barnacle crusted rocks that had cut her feet until they bled. She could still feel them sometimes when she starred into the fire in the evenings or when she watched the stars at night, lying under her sheets in the soft cradle of sand. She did not miss it exactly. She did not remember enough to miss it. But she did think of it sometimes on the edge of sleep, she'd hold it in her thoughts, turn the memories over and around, looking for details she'd missed in all the times before. It had been a long time since she'd found a new detail she didn't already hold in her memory, still she did it almost every night, letting those old visions usher her into sleep on the early autumn nights when the mosquitoes dove at her all night long, even through the smoke of the smudge fires. +Lulu thought about this, about the mother she never knew, about things she barely remembered, different rivers, different marshes, different shorelines with the cold smell of wet mud and salt brine, the barnacle crusted rocks that had cut her feet until they bled. She could still feel them sometimes when she stared into the fire in the evenings or when she watched the stars at night, lying under her sheets in the soft cradle of sand. She did not miss it exactly. She did not remember enough to miss it. But she did think of it sometimes on the edge of sleep, she'd hold it in her thoughts, turn the memories over and around, looking for details she'd missed in all the times before. It had been a long time since she'd found a new detail she didn't already hold in her memory, still she did it almost every night, letting those old visions usher her into sleep on the early autumn nights when the mosquitoes dove at her all night long, even through the smoke of the smudge fires. 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. @@ -511,21 +513,21 @@ They slowed when they reached the dunes, they all knew from experience that runn "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." +"She said we could use it if we left her alone." "Were you bad?" Birdie nodded at Henry, who scowled. "Was not!" -Henry was five, and as their father said, clever as a lynx and innocent as the doves. Henry 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. +Henry was seven, and as their father said, clever as a lynx and innocent as the doves. Henry 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. Despite his twinkle, Henry 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 Owen, but he was a year younger, actually quite sneaky, and lived a mile down the beach with their aunt and uncle, which generally absolved him. -They crested the last dune and from the top the *Arkhangelsk* came into view lying in a gully just beyond the beach, listing slightly to port. 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. +They crested the last dune and from the top the *Arkhangelsk* came into view. The three leaped down the slope of the last dune in great bounding arcs, sinking deep into the soft sand and leaping out again, great whooping war cries rising from their lips. -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. +Lulu ducked under the crumbling 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. -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 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. +It was dark by the time they walked back to camp. The air had turned cold as the sun set. No, not cold really, but cool enough that 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. She fell asleep watching the thin sliver of moon drag its light across the shifting ripple of the calm sea. ## Chapter 5: Fishing the Bank |