Beasts and Savages (The Beastly Series Book 1) (14 page)

"Already?" The feast was four hours away. I had hoped for some time alone before going to the celebration.

"These things take time." Nana set her knife down and touched my arm. "Lea, no matter what happens, I will always be proud of you.  I will always love you, and you will always be my Granddaughter."

My heart skipped a beat.  Did Nana know that I was planning to run away tomorrow? I hadn't told anyone. Maybe she knew that things were not going well with Mom’s plan. I considered asking her, but changed my mind.  She could just mean she would be proud even if I had a boy. Or if I managed to kill one.

I hugged her." Thank you, Nana. I love you too."

Nibbling on the apple, I sauntered to Mom’s room. I told myself that maybe if I got this over with I could have a few minutes to myself before we left. In the month since my failed attempt at running away, I had become more familiar with the Nature Reserve. We were going through it tomorrow to get to the hunting grounds. Beyond the hunting grounds was the rest of the world. While the other girls were hunting, I was going to slip through and be on my way to freedom. It would be late Sunday - early Monday before anyone would be concerned when I didn't come back.

Mother's door was closed. I tapped on it and called for her before opening it. Her room was empty. When I turned to walk down the hall, I noticed the key in the door at the end of the hall.  The door was ajar.  The dressing room, of course mother would be there.  I glanced at the brass plaque on the door. It had "dressing room" engraved in fancy lettering on it.  When I was a child I thought that it was a fabulous room filled with fancy tunics, hats, gloves, and jewelry all waiting to be worn and I was eager to play there.  When my mother told me what was really in the room I was so disappointed I didn't talk to her for the rest of the day.

I pushed the door open. The warm moist air carried the scent of lavender.  I stepped in and closed the door.  At the other end of the room was an old fashioned tub filled with steaming water.  Next to it was a small stool that had a vase of lavender flowers and a bottle of oil.  To my right was a long wooden bench with various moccasins, sandals, and fur boots tucked under it.  In the middle of the floor was a large fur rug.  My mother was kneeling on the rug, sobbing into the bench.

"Mom," I called. I knelt beside her and touched her shoulder. 

"Lea! I'm sorry dear. This is supposed to be a happy time. Let's get you started, okay?" She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Are you worried about me?” I whispered.

She laughed, “No. You're strong and capable. You have a good head on your shoulders.”

“Then what? Please tell me.”

“I just. You're so smart and beautiful. So grown up. Sometimes I wish – I wish - that I could've seen my boy grow up, even though I know he's probably -” Mom stifled another sob.

“You don't know that he's dead, Mom. He might still be alive.” I hugged her and whispered in her ear, “I don't have to go, you know. I could hide somewhere.”

Mom pulled away. “No. No you can't. If you hid they'd find you. Punish you. Maybe even take you away.” Her eyes shone. “You will mate and not kill, and come back to me. Now, let's get started and try to enjoy the celebration.” She plastered on a smile I'd seen my entire life. The smile of a broken woman.

“You want me to try to have fun tonight?”

Mom didn't reply. Instead, she poured drops of lavender oil into the tub as I undressed. The heat and overpowering lavender made my eyelids droop as I sank into the tub. I closed my eyes and let my muscles relax as she scrubbed me with a silk cloth. Soon, Mom began to hum.

I recognized the tune. It was The Mother's Song. Ms. Dawning played it for us in class one morning. She told us it was part of the mother-daughter ceremony before the feast. I sighed, enjoying being pampered by my mother. A tear slid down my cheek as I thought about how much I would miss her.

“What's wrong?” She whispered.

“Nothing. I'm just thinking of how time has slipped by so quickly and now we're here, the hunt looming hours away.”

Her laugh was light. “There will be many more missed moments and time will slip faster and faster until it's gone.”

I opened an eye. “I suppose you're right. Aren't you supposed to sing me The Mother's Song?”

“Lay your head back and I'll sing it while I wash your hair.” She splashed my hair with water and rubbed more lavender oil into my scalp.

“May your arrow point you in the right direction, may the rabbit be your guide.” Her voice rang out clear and echoed in the room. “May the course be filled with sweet reflection, as you seek the other side. Let your own accord not be in vain and be thankful to the slain.”

Mom sang the song twice through before she finished my hair. After I was completely scrubbed and my fingers puckered like prunes, I stood. She wrapped me in a warm towel and rolled my hair into another. Once I was dry, she helped me into my fur costume. This time, it fit perfectly. The soft suede lining the furs enveloped my hips and bosom. I tied the tall boots and Mom led me to the mirror.

While she combed my hair I studied the girl I had become. I was more toned than I had been the last time I tried on the costume and my arms and face were darker, tanned by the summer sun. My eyes had a sadness to them and when I smiled it wasn't complete. I had grown taller in the short months and none of the skirt's jutting pelts reached my knees any longer.

Mother pulled my hair up to just above my crown and wrapped a leather strap around it several times before tucking it in. The result was a high ponytail, the end of which swung just above my shoulder blades. My pulled up hair made my cheeks look higher and my face more angular. I looked older, almost grown up.

“You look beautiful!” Mother breathed.

“Thanks,” I smiled. “Am I ready?”

“Almost.” She reached for a leather pouch lying on the bench. “Here.”

The brown pouch was well worn and soft. It smelled of leather and lavender. I pulled the strap over my shoulder before looking inside. A knife in a sheath and silver compass were the only contents. I considered rejecting the knife and reassuring Mom that I wasn't going to kill, but I knew that a knife would come in handy along my journey.

“Your canteen is downstairs. I filled it earlier,” Mom explained.

“Can I have a few minutes? Alone?”

She smiled. “Of course.”

When I got to my room, I dumped the contents of my satchel on my bed. I pulled the knife out of its sheath and pricked my thumb with the sharp tip. I wondered how long this knife had been in my family and how many hearts it had taken. I shuddered and put it back.

My compass was exactly like Beth's. I supposed that all the compasses were the same. The jerky I had taken from the kitchen was stuck to the bottom of the satchel. I counted the pieces and wrapped them in a tissue. Ten sticks of jerky wouldn't last me long.

As I thought about other things I would need, I wandered around my room. I opened the drawer to my light stand and took out a lighter. It would be cold soon and a fire would be helpful. As I shut the drawer, a photo fluttered to the ground. It was a picture of Mom and me on my first day of school. Mother was wearing a sunny yellow tunic. I was wearing a dark blue tunic and my favorite red leggings. Mother was kneeling beside me, beaming into the camera. My hair was pulled into pigtails and I was clutching my new school bag to my chest.

I remembered that day. Nana had taken the picture while mother begged me to be still through her smile. Lucille and her mother were waiting for us at the end of the street. I was more excited about spending the entire day with my best friend. We walked to school that day hand in hand, chattering about all the fun we would have while our mothers walked behind us lamenting about how much we had grown. It was a happy day. One that I wished I could live over and over.

I picked it up and tucked it into my satchel. I grabbed the nail file and dropped it in. Those long pointy nails were arduous to work with.

I took in my room one last time. The blankets on my bed were crumpled and my trash can still overflowed with papers. My doll slouched in her rocking chair. Everything appeared so normal, unchanged, and I suddenly felt uncomfortable in my own room. The girl who grew up here, lived here was accepting, never questioned her life. I was an unwilling hunter who challenged everything.  Finally, I flipped off my light and closed the door.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I had to dodge neighbors streaming in and out of our kitchen. Nana, Mom, and Grandmother were packaging up food and passing it to every pair of hands that came in the door.

“Oh, Lea, you look wonderful!” Ms. Fitzpatrick exclaimed. The short woman with grey curls reached up and pinched my cheek.

“Thanks.” I pulled away from her and picked up my canteen.

“She's right.” Nana gave me a hug.

“Thank you Nana.” I kissed her cheek before heading out the door.

The evening air was cool and crisp. A breeze rustled the leaves and I shivered. I picked up my bike.

“Lea honey! Who'll bring your bike back from the reserve?” Mom called out.

“But I can't walk. It's too far.” I leaned the bike against the house.

“I'll walk with you. We'll be fine.” She wrapped her arms around me, and we set off for the feast.

***

The fires were visible a few blocks away from the nature reserve. Girls dressed in brown, black, and gray furs were milling around tables laden with food. Rounds of “A Hunting We Will Go!” rang throughout the park. Older women dished food while young girls played hide and seek in the shadows along the edge of the park.

“There you are!” Rally wore a grey speckled ensemble. Her hair was pulled back in the same fashion as mine, but her curls puffed out messily. She wore her satchel proudly across her chest.

“You look adorable.” I gave her a half smile.

“Thanks, but not what I was going for,” she laughed. “You have an original white costume. I didn’t think they existed any longer.”

“Yeah. My mom told me it has been in our family since the first hunt.” I shrugged.

“Wow,” Rally said.

“Ready to have some fun?”

“Absolutely.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

We meandered our way from table to table, allowing women to scoop ladles of food on our plates. Beth sat close to a fire; she looked beautiful in her custom made golden fur and matching boots. Rally and I sat beside her. Beth picked at her plate.