Remembrance

Meg’s head came up, maybe a little too suddenly, since she felt dizzy at the movement. How could she have thought that this woman had evil intentions? She must be heartbroken that she had been denied the company of her delightful, adorable daughter. Of course she wanted

to hear all about her. It did not occur to Meg that while she was telling Alida all about her own daughter, she was telling an equal amount about a boy Alida possibly hated.

“The children learn at the same speed, and they are interested in the same things,” Meg said, thinking how clever she was to casually mention learning. By the time she finished, Lady Alida would be begging to hire a teacher for her daughter.

22

Once Meg had started, she couldn’t stop talking about the children. Nine years of living with them, loving them, and telling no one about them, had built up inside her. She had never been able to tell her neighbors because her children were so different from theirs. At every village festival—the ones Will allowed them to attend—Callie and Talis stood out from the other children. Instinctively, everyone knew they were separate and distinct.

Now, Meg was free to talk to her heart’s content. And talk she did. She told of Talis’s arrogance, how he sometimes hurt Callie’s feelings. Talis would never think of apologizing when he did something to hurt Callie, but at night he would put the best pieces of meat onto her plate. Then Callie would serve him the best of the bread.

“You’ll both starve from giving the other the best,” Will had said to them more than once. The children would deny this, then Talis would lapse into a long speech of how he and Callie couldn’t abide each other. Callie would nod her head in agreement, both of them too proud to admit what they were each to the other.

“They can not be separated,” Meg continued. “They won’t sleep if they aren’t in the same room, preferably in the same bed. And they…” She hesitated as she cocked her head to one side, thinking. “They talk to each other through their minds.” Embarrassed, she looked up at Lady Alida, whose face showed interest but also some revulsion. Meg decided it was better not to talk about the mind-talk. “When one cuts his finger, the other feels it. If you were to strike one, the other would feel it.” Neither of the children had ever said this, but she remembered too well the way Callie had sat down quite gingerly after the times Will had taken a belt to Talis.

As Alida listened, she became more angry with each sentence. Here was proof that her prayer to God had been answered. He had not answered her many prayers she’d offered Him for the nine months of her last pregnancy that she had spent on her knees. No, He had not granted her wish for a son. Instead, she had prayed that her child share the soul of that foreign woman’s baby and that prayer had been answered. Why, why could not He have answered her request for a boy? A boy of her own, one to inherit? A son who was healthy in mind and body?

Now this fawning old woman was saying how sweet the children were, how kind and loving, how they liked to do things for other people. Alida knew she had to stop her before she became nauseated.

“Come, come,” Alida said, “they must have at least one weakness. Or are they not human?”

Meg’s back stiffened at the very thought that her children were not what was best in the world. “Yes, of course they have weaknesses. They…” She hesitated, but then she remembered that this woman was Callie’s mother so she could confide in her. “They are jealous,” she said softly. “They are both very jealous.”

Alida gave a little smile. “That does not seem such a bad weakness. We are all jealous. Here, have some more wine. If you do not tell me what their flaws are, I will not believe their virtues.”

That made sense to Meg, and, besides, wasn’t it her own vanity that was keeping her from telling this woman all the truth about her own child?

“Their jealousy is stronger than most people’s. It is not normal. Talis is the worst. He cannot bear Callie to give her attention to anything but him. There was a boy who came for one day and he gave Callie a book. Talis has several times become angry at Callie when she looks at that boy’s book. He wants all of her attention all of the time.”

“And what of the girl?” Alida could not bring herself to call her her daughter.

“She…” Again, Meg hesitated. How to state Callie’s biggest sin? “Callie worships him,” she said at last.

For a moment, all Alida could do was blink. “Worships him?” She paled. Perhaps this boy was from the devil.

“No,” Meg said quickly, correctly reading the lady’s horror. “I do not mean she goes against God. She—” How could she explain? Right now she wished she had Callie’s gift for words. “Talis has a great sense of honor. Yes, that is the word. Honor. He talks all the time about the honor of a man and that a man cannot lie.”

“Ah, then the girl is a liar,” Alida said, understanding the need to lie.

“No,” Meg said sharply. “Callie doesn’t lie. She is very honest, but she cares very, very much for Talis. She cares only for him.” Meg’s voice lowered to a whisper. “I sometimes think Callie would sell her soul to protect him from a bee sting.”

Meg shook her head to clear it, trying to explain what she meant. “They are only children, you understand. It is nothing serious. Callie will steal tarts for him but Talis would die before he stole for any reason on earth. My Callie is a good girl, honest, God-fearing—except when it comes to him, then she’s the devil’s own.”

Meg was finishing the glass of wine and beginning to laugh. Even when she told the “worst” of the children, it wasn’t very bad. “Will and I have to watch Callie, for she will take the blame for anything wrong. Whether Talis has left the barn door open, broken something with his wooden sword, or anything else, Callie will say she did it.”

“And the boy allows her to be punished for his crimes?” Alida asked, smiling. Here at last was evidence that he was indeed Gilbert Rasher’s son.

“No, no, of course not,” Meg said. “Talis is angry when he hears that she has taken the blame for his misdeeds. He will ask her how she can lie, then tell her that lying is a sin.”

Meg smiled. “Callie won’t lie otherwise, just for him. And he never asks her to lie for him. It’s just that she says she can’t bear to see him in pain. She says he’s seen enough pain.”

“What pain has the boy experienced?” Alida asked sharply. At the moment she felt that only she knew of pain.

“I do not know, my lady. I am only telling you what your daughter says. She says that Talis has experienced enough pain and he needs no more. Perhaps she means about his mother dying.” Meg was unsuccessful at keeping the hurt from her voice when she said this. Perhaps the children thought she, Meg, was not good enough to be their real mother and that is why Callie referred to Talis’s birth mother.

“Then you have told them the truth of their birth?”

“Oh no! Will said it was better that the children did not know—until it was time, that is.”