Authors: Lisa Heathfield
“Why?”
“Because she’s been looking at the Outside boys,” Jack says, glancing over his shoulder and smiling.
“Have you?” I ask. “It’s dangerous, Kate.”
“I haven’t.” She sits up, squeezes drops of water from her hair and flicks it toward Jack.
“Why else would they stop you going?” he asks.
Kate leans back onto both of her elbows with a sigh. She tips her head back and her hair touches the ground. She’s been growing it for a year, since she officially became a woman. Jack looks away from her.
“Kindred John says I’m not allowed to speak to them. So I asked him how I’m meant to sell the Outsiders our homegrown beans if I can’t talk to them. He wasn’t having any of it and now he’s stopped me going.” She slumps down and swings an arm over her eyes. “Pig’s breath,” she says quietly into her skin.
Jack and I don’t move. I’ve never heard Kate speak like that before, and about a Kindred. I don’t even dare look at her. I’m suddenly terrified that Papa S. will come creeping out of a tree and strike us down. He’s everywhere. He sees and hears
everything. Will she be punished for this?
“Don’t speak like that again, Kate,” Jack says quietly, without turning around. She doesn’t reply. She must know that, even for her, she’s gone too far.
We share our lunch with the children. Chunks of bread with slabs of cheese. A mouthful each of potato salad, leftover from yesterday’s supper. I bite my teeth through the skin of a small tomato and it pops and bleeds its seeds onto my tongue.
“Your shoulders are burning, Jack,” Kate says. She goes to her bag as I wrap the leftover cheese in paper.
“I’ll be OK,” he says, touching his hot skin with his palms.
“Papa S. won’t like it if the sun scolds you,” she says. “It won’t take me long.” She kneels behind him, opens the bottle and pours some sunscreen onto her hands. I see Jack tense as she rubs the cream into his skin. He holds his head still, doesn’t move.
And that strange feeling is back, somewhere in me. Nerves in my belly, a sickness in my throat.
Then Jack stands up quickly. “That’ll be enough,” he says and, without turning toward us, he runs and dives into the water and swims hard over to the other side.
When I look over at Kate, she’s got a smile on her face. She’s still kneeling, the bottle of sunscreen next to her, the imprint of Jack’s body in the grass between her knees.
“Is he OK?” I ask.
She laughs slightly and looks at me and I’m sure she shakes her head. I want to ask why, but a thread of distance winds quietly between us.
“He’s fine,” she says, before she turns onto her belly in the grass.
I lie on my back, feeling the heat of the day on every part of my body. Behind my closed lids, I see the red of the sun. I can hear Ruby and Bobby splashing and laughing. Somewhere in it all must be the sound of Jack.
I don’t think there’s ever been a more beautiful day.
You were torn from me. Your little beating heart taken from me. The soft touch of your newborn flesh disappeared.
I tried. I promise I tried.
“I want to keep my baby!” I screamed at them.
“The baby belongs to Mother Nature. The baby belongs to all of us.”
No. My baby belongs to me.
I screamed and bit and scratched at them, but they turned to stone.
And they hid me away. Cut me from you.
But I am your mother. I am your mother.
I reach up and touch the cold window.
“You are mine,” I whisper through the glass.
I
t feels so different walking up to Dawn Rocks in a skirt rather than trousers. The sun hasn’t yet risen and the air is cold around my legs. Jack is in front of me. His shoulders look broad and I can see the muscles in his arms, even through his shirt. He must sense me looking, as he turns around and smiles. He sees Ruby, still so sleepy, walking by my side, and he stops to pick her up. She buries her nose into his neck and he carries on walking.
It always amazes me how silent we are. How almost everyone from Seed can walk through the forest and up the craggy path to the hilltop rocks, yet there’s hardly a murmur between us. Papa S. is at the front, leading the way through the lifting darkness. Looking back, I can just see Elizabeth and I can tell that she’s uncomfortable. The baby in her belly must almost be full-size and it makes her steps heavy and slow. Her blonde hair is tied back from her face, but it still shines in the darkness. She leans on the staff that Kindred Smith made for Nana Willow.
The wind is resting and all around us the blackbirds are singing. Walking like this always makes it worth being woken from
my dreams.
Turning the corner in the path, there is the outline of Dawn Rocks in the hillside ahead of us. We will sit there to greet the sun. And as we get closer, I am sure that I can hear Mother Nature whispering to me, hiding just out of reach behind the solid gray.
When we reach the rocks, I sit next to Jack, who has Ruby on his lap. His warmth spreads into me and I barely shiver. I reach down until I feel his fingers in mine. Heather holds my other hand. She smiles at me, but she has lost something from behind her eyes. Each day it feels like the real her tiptoes away, replaced by someone edged in sadness. Is she really being taken by jealousy? It makes me uncomfortable, as no one is unhappy at Seed.
Slowly, the blackness around us changes and color seeps into everything. The cluster of trees below move from murky gray, to blue, to green. The fields shimmer purple, before the rising sun splashes them too. I hold my breath. This is my very favorite time and I want to slow it down, remember everything I see, everything I feel.
When the blue of the sky begins to push through, Papa S. stands up and lifts his palm toward the sun. We stay sitting, but we let go of each other’s hands and reach our own palms upward. I can never be happier. I look at Jack. His head is tipped toward the sky and my eyes follow the line of his neck.
“Thank you, Mother Nature,” says Papa S.
“Thank you, Mother Nature,” we all repeat, our voices lifting to the sun.
Papa S. sits on the ground. We watch as he lays his hands flat on the grass. It’s a hand I know so well, with white skin barely touched by the sun. When he looks at us, we know that it’s time to begin.
“Nature,” we chant. “We thank you for leading Papa S. to Seed. He saved us. He protects us. In return, we give you everything.” The words flow out of me, and I speak with my family as one. “Because we need nothing more. We have Kindreds to guide us, we have food, we have love. We listen to you, Mother Nature, only you.”
We kiss our palms, touch them onto the earth.
Suddenly Papa S. begins to shake. His arm is raised again, but this time it is as though someone invisible is yanking at him and his whole body jolts. His hair shudders against his back. Bobby looks toward me for comfort, but I’m frightened too.
Kindred John gets up.
“Stay back,” Papa S. demands. His voice is deep and rumbles around the rock. I want to block my ears, hear only the comfort of his normal voice. But strange sounds are coming from him and words that make no sense, louder and louder until his head is thrown back, both arms outstretched above him.
When at last he sinks to the ground, his arms lie flat on the earth and he looks at us all with blazing blue eyes. Then he smiles.
“I have learned something new,” he says quietly, his voice now his own. “I have learned that someone among us needs forgiveness. Someone here has let their pure soul become muddied.”
Some of my family shift slightly where they’re sitting. A sign of guilt? I am completely still, but my mind is flicking back in panic through my memory.
Is it me?
I think of being in that hole in the ground. Had he secretly been watching me? Did he know my fear? I try to stay calm as Papa S. looks at us all. I try to block out memories of the Forgiveness Room, but I can feel the beating wings in my lungs again.
I feel Heather’s hand in mine. I glance at her and she shakes her head, as gently as a whisper, and I slow my breathing. Look at the horizon. Look at the beauty of the line of hills carved into the sky. I am sitting at Dawn Rocks. I am safe. The only sound is that of the birds and the air and the breathing of friends.
Papa S. stands up. He brushes the dry earth from his knees and wipes his palms clean. His smile is like honey and I know we have him back again.
“Dawn has been greeted,” he says, his arms spread wide with love for us all.
He walks toward me. I see him notice my skirt and I blush with pride. He reaches out, but his hand goes to Heather. She
looks up at him and suddenly she’s happy. They hold hands and lead the way back down the path, through the forest and over the field to Seed.
“What was all that about?” Kate asks quietly.
We’re kneeling side by side in the strawberry field. I look around and there’s no one in the next few rows, but I don’t answer her.
“Oi,” she says, digging me in the side with her elbows. We laugh, but for some reason I’m nervous.
“Is it you?” I ask suddenly.
“What—am I the one with the muddy soul?”
“Shh,” I say quickly.
“The strawberries don’t have ears.” She laughs again, popping one into her mouth and making herself go cross-eyed. “Besides, I love Papa S. I believe every word he says.”
“Why are you being like this, Kate?” I whisper.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Strange,” I say.
Kate stops still and looks at me. “Maybe I’m not happy,” she says. “Maybe I want more.”
I don’t understand what she’s saying. No one is unhappy at Seed. There is no place on Earth as good as this.
“What do you mean?” I ask. But Kate doesn’t answer me. She just keeps staring across the fields. “If they find out, they might punish you,” I tell her, because maybe she doesn’t know.
She turns to me, her smile defiant. “They’d better not find out, then.” She picks another strawberry, throws it high into the air and catches it in her mouth.
I reach for one, pull it gently from its stem. It feels soft in my fingers. I want to eat it, but instead I add it to the pile in my little wicker basket.