A Path Toward Home (The Annals of Avonea) (7 page)

“How terrible,” Woodphere sighed.

For the rest of the way, they walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they entered a lovely meadow with a scattering of trees.

“There, look up ahead, I see the well!” Drinian pointed as they gazed upon a hill.

“Finally!” Constance gasped with joy.

They traipsed up the steep hill wearily, with legs straining and quivering as they ascended.

“Look there's the Kallies village,” Drinian said, pointing to the valley below.

“What a quaint little settlement, it's very cute!” Constance exclaimed.

“Water, finally,” Woodphere's uttered, as he walked toward the well.

They refreshed themselves with cold water, cleaned up there torn muddy clothes, and started pouring water over the horse’s backs.

“Here you are girl, you've been through a lot today,” Constantine said, as she gave Dutch an apple that she had picked from a nearby tree.

Drinian stood by the well and watched as Constance cared for her horse.
What was so different about this girl? Was it her stubbornness and determination, or was it her gentleness while she attended to his injured arm
?

When Constance looked up to see Drinian watching her; he quickly put his head down.

“Well you two, it's time that we must be on our way,” Woodphere said after they had all refreshed themselves.

“Indeed Woodphere, let us be on our way,” Drinian repeated.

And with that they made their way down the hill toward the Kallies village.

The Kallies

Soon they arrived at the poor village. Little boys ran around pushing rocks with sticks as toys, and little girls sat by a dried up old well playing with corn husk dolls.

“This is such a humble place,” Constance murmured, as she looked around.

“Indeed, but they are very proud of what little they may have,” Drinian replied.

Suddenly a little girl who had been sitting by the well noticed the group arriving and came running up to them. She had long black curly hair, dark brown eyes, and her dress was a faded red. She held a scraggly flower in her left hand that was missing several petals. She walked up to Constance and handed her the pitiful looking thing.

“Why thank you,” Constance expressed, receiving the gift.

The little girl gave Constance a toothless grin, for she was missing her three front teeth.

“Hello, Rosella,” Drinian said as he picked her up into his arms.

Rosella gave a quiet giggle.

“How are you? And how is your brother Razelle?”

“I'm well, but Razelle is not feeling happy today.” she replied.

“Do you think you could take me to him?” Drinian asked, putting her down.

Rosella nodded her head, and rushed ahead of them.

“You know her?”

“Yes, Woodphere and I come here often trying to help them. Not all of them trust us, though.”

“Because of the Molters?”

“Yes, although we have been able to establish relationships with a few different families, which is a start.”

They stopped talking and followed Rosella to a tiny wooden hut, resembling one you might see in an African village. A red haired woman greeted them at the door as they came in.

“Your Majesty, I am so grateful you are here. Razelle has been waiting for you for over a month!” the women exclaimed.

“I am sorry we did not come sooner,” Drinian replied.

When they walked inside the small hut Drinian immediately went over to the corner of the room. A small child lying in bed appeared to be nearly eight years old.

“Drinian, you have come!” Razelle beamed, as he sat up in his bed.

“Hello, Razelle. How are you feeling?” Drinian asked, sitting down on the little boy’s bed.

“I feel much better now that you have come!”

Constance leaned over and whispered into Woodphere's ear.

“What is the matter with him?”

“He's crippled in both legs,” Woodphere whispered back.

“Was he born that way, or was he in an accident?”

“He was in an accident two years ago. He was playing outside when his ball rolled under a wagon. He ran to get it, but the horse spooked and the wagon wheels rolled over his legs, breaking both of them. He was fortunate that he did not have to have them amputated.”

“How terrible,” Constance whispered.

“Here, I have a present for you,” Drinian said, pulling out of his satchel a gingerbread cookie.

“Thank you, Drinian!” Razelle replied, his eyes wide with excitement, as he reached for the treat.

“Rosella, do you want one too?” Drinian asked, seeing that Rosella was standing in the corner licking her lips.

Rosella wrinkled up her nose with delight as she took the cookie from Drinian.

“Where is Warrick, Mrs. Monroe?” Drinian asked, as he stood up.

“Oh, he has finally found work Your Majesty, working in the fields,” Mrs. Monroe replied.

“I am glad to hear that. Oh, and where are my manners, Mrs. Monroe? This is Constance,” Drinian announced.

“Constance, what a beautiful name! Your Majesty did not tell me that you were betrothed.”

“Oh, no...,” Drinian said, trying to interrupt her.

“We must have a feast to celebrate!”

“Oh no, you are mistaken. We are not engaged at all,” Constance said hastily.

“You’re not?”

“No, I am simply helping her return to her world,” Drinian added.

“Oh my, what a pickle I've gotten myself into this time,” Mrs. Monroe exclaimed. “Well at least Reagan will be …., I mean you should really go visit Reagan while your here, she would enjoy that.”

Drinian hesitated but finally answered, “I will have to do that.”

“And I do hope you will stay the night Your Majesty.”

“Will that be alright?” Drinian asked Woodphere, who was standing in the doorway.

“Indeed, thank you, we will accept your offer,” Woodphere replied.

At that moment a petite young woman swept into the room. She was beautiful with long black hair which flowed to her waist, and had dark eyes, with extremely long eye-lashes.

“Drinian, you have come!” She exclaimed with a coy smile.

“Reagan …. I haven’t seen you in ages,” Drinian replied without enthusiasm.

“Yes, it has been at least four months. How long will you be staying?”

“Only tonight and tomorrow night.”

Reagan was so absorbed with Drinian that Constance didn't think Reagan even noticed her or Woodphere.

“Reagan, this is Constance, and you already know Woodphere,” Drinian said, breaking the silence.

“Oh … It is a pleasure to meet you, Constance,” Reagan stammered, with disappointment in her voice.

“Drinian is taking Constance back to her world,” Mrs. Monroe craftily spoke, hinting that Drinian and Constance were not courting.

“Really, so where do you live Constance?” Reagan asked, with obvious delight.

“In Canada,” Constance replied.

“Canada, I do not remember that country.”

“It's very far from here,” Constance replied.

Suddenly Constance felt a nudge in her side.

“Are you a princess of your country?” Rosella asked. “Because if you are, you and Drinian could get married.”

“Rosella!” Mrs. Monroe exclaimed, giving her a stern glance.

An awkward silence followed. Constance noticed from the corner of her eye that Reagan was biting her lip with a very worried expression on her face.

“No, I'm not a princess Rosella, but thank you very much for thinking so,” Constance replied.

“Well, let me get supper going, we’re going to have a feast tonight,” proclaimed Mrs. Monroe.

“Rosella, run out to the smoke house and get that big side of prized goat.”

“Yes, mama,” Rosella replied, skipping outside.

“Mrs. Monroe, Drinian and I shall go and visit the villagers while you prepare the meal, if that is alright with you,” Woodphere said.

“That is most fine with me, supper will be exactly at 6:00 p.m.,” Mrs. Monroe replied, while washing carrots in a basin of cold water.

“Do you wish to come along, Constance?” Drinian asked.

“I think I'll stay here, and help with supper, if I'm not imposing on Mrs. Monroe.”

“Of course you may stay, but there is no need for you to help, Reagan will assist me.”

“No, please let me help. I will get lazy, if I don't do anything.”

“You actually should let Constance help you, for it would not do any good arguing with her. I know that she would win anyway,” Drinian said, giving Constance a playful grin.

“Alright, I certainly do not want you to feel useless.” Mrs. Monroe responded.

“Well, we shall be off ladies,” Woodphere said, bowing and exiting the house with Drinian at his side.

“Here, mama!” Rosella said, running into the house lugging a huge side of goat that was virtually as big as she was.

“Good, now be a big girl and go up into the attic and get some, beans, potatoes and turnips,” Mrs. Monroe instructed.

“Here let me help you with that, that's a big load for you to carry,” Constance offered.

“I'm used to it,” Rosella replied, stepping up the ladder to the attic.

Constance following behind her, found the attic to be surprisingly large, for such a small house. On one side were bedrolls that were rolled out on the floor, and on the other side were piles of boxes, sacks of vegetables and dried herbs hanging from the rafters.

“I do a lot of carrying for mama, since she has a bad back. Razelle cannot carry anything of course, and Papa's always gone during the day.”

“You have a lot of responsibility for a girl your age.”

“Not really, I am almost seven. Oh, do you want to see my secret hiding place?” Rosella asked, her eyes glistening.

“If you show me, it won't be a secret anymore,” Constance replied.

“I don't mind if you see it, I trust you.”

Rosella lead Constance into the far off corner of the attic where a few crates were tightly gathered together, leaving a small hole which was scarcely noticeable.

“This is my secret hiding place where I keep all my dearest treasures” Rosella whispered, picking up a miniature wooden box that was tucked in the opening. It was a very beautiful, with flower designs carved in the middle, and little jewels engraved on the top.

“Drinian made this for my birthday. I keep my secret possessions in here, and I’ve never shown anyone except for my doll, Annie.”

Rosella carefully opened the little box. It contained a pink shell, a smooth pebble, a blue bead, a yellow ribbon, and a piece of red brightly colored material.

“My papa saved this shell for me from the time we were at sea when I was but a baby. I picked up this stone near the river; look how sparkly it is!”

“Yes, that is very pretty,” Constance complimented.

“This bead is from an old bracelet Reagan found. It used to glisten, but now it's a dull blue,” Rosella said, placing the bead in Constance’s hand.

Rosella, picking up another object, said “My mama gave me this ribbon which she saved from when she was a little girl.”

“And finally my most treasured item!” Rosella exclaimed, pulling out a piece of red fabric.

“This is a scrap from my old Christmas dress which my sister made for me.”

“You have another sister besides Lilly?” Constance asked.

“I used to, she drowned in a heavy current one day when she was washing clothes, but that was a long time ago.”

“How old was she?”

“Ten.”

“I can see why it's so special to you.”

“I wish I had the whole dress, but after Honesty died mama didn't want anything around that reminded her of Honesty, so she ….”

“Rosella, what are you doing up there?” Mrs. Monroe called.

“I'm showing Constance something.”

“Well hurry with the vegetables, the water’s boiling.”

Rosella sighed and continued talking, “Mama burnt all of Honesty's dresses and toys, and this is the only piece I found after the fire had gone out.”

Constance didn’t know what to say to Rosella. She had experienced so much hurt in life, but yet she still acted as if nothing in her life had ever gone wrong.

“Come on, we better get those vegetables down to mama before she gets upset.”

“I kind of know how you feel Rosella. My mother died when I was young,” Constance said as she picked up a sack of potatoes.

“Really? How did it happen?”

“She was hit by a truck.”

“Oh how terrible. What is a truck?”

“I forget that you don't have automobiles here. Well... a truck is a wagon without a horse.”

“How can a wagon without a horse move?”

“It's a little hard to explain.”

Rosella and Constance quietly climbed down to the kitchen with their load of vegetables.

“What were you two doing up there?”

“Rosella was showing me something.”

“Well please come over here now and chop some carrots for me Rosella.”

“I can do it,” Constance offered, picking up the knife that lay on the table.

“Very well then.”

“Mother, you will never guess what Constance told me, she told me that in her country they have wagons without horses!”

“Indeed, wagons without horses? She must have been pulling your leg, Rosella,” Reagan remarked.

“No honest, tell them Constance.”

“It is true, we have wagons that move on their own without a horse.” Constance replied.

“How could that ever be possible?” Mrs. Monroe asked.

“A man invented the horseless wagon; no one uses horses to pull them anymore.”

“How strange,” Mrs. Monroe sighed.

“I still don't believe it,” Reagan muttered as she turned to stir the vegetables.

“I want to ride on a horseless wagon!” Rosella exclaimed.

“Maybe someday you will,” Constance replied.

“Mamma, can I go down to the creek?”

“Alright, run along, but make sure your back in time for supper.”

“I will mama.” And with that Rosella quickly ran out of the house.

Constance sat down and chopped the carrots while listening to Mrs. Monroe and Reagan discuss the weather, local gossip, and the Molters. Suddenly, Constance perked up her ears as the conversation continued.

“So did Silas come calling today?” Mrs. Monroe asked Reagan.