Sneaks (6 page)

“Go on. Go on over and say hello to him.” Ian pushed at my elbow.

I walked to the baby. The girl looked at me and smiled. I’d noticed that dental hygiene wasn’t first on the list of an 18th century Scottish person, but his poor girl was worse than most. Her teeth were black. She must have been in pain.

I looked at Ian and back at the girl. “May I say hello?” I asked.

“Aye, of course.” She nodded and stepped away from the table.

“Hi,” I said as I looked at him. He was very clean and his thick hair stuck up all over the place. He most definitely was his father’s son. His face was round now, but someday it would hold the sharp lines I’d seen in the laird.

He looked at me for an instant and then broke out into a huge toothless, saliva-covered grin as his arms and legs pumped the air.

“He recognizes ye, Kally,” Ian said as he too looked at his baby brother.

“I doubt it. He’s just a baby.”

“No, I think he recognizes ye. Look at him.”

Mac wouldn’t take his eyes from mine. Despite not being much of a baby person, I thought he was kind of cute.

“If Da could see this, he would know ye didna take him.”

I didn’t think the laird would have taken the baby’s word for anything, but I didn’t say as much.

I touched his soft belly. His arms and legs pumped. I took my finger off and then put it back on just to see if he’d do it again; he did. I didn’t want to smile but I couldn’t help it.

Ian laughed. “Ye couldn’t have harmed him. I see that.”

“I didn’t, I sw . . . I promise,” I said, hopefully using a better word.

Ian looked nothing like his father. I could see what his mother must have looked like: fine features, bright blue eyes and deep red hair. Ian wouldn’t turn into the skyscraper of a man his father was, but he would be . . . what would Granny say? Striking.

No man was striking back home. They were all just different versions of the same thing. Same faces, same haircuts, same clothes. So much same.

Ian had dark circles under his eyes and though he smiled, he seemed sad, like his father had. Ian had lost his mother, and the laird had lost his wife, and the baby had been taken. They’d been through some horrible stuff.

“I’m glad he’s home,” I said as I quit torturing him by tickling his stomach.

“We all are. Come along, I’ll show ye where ye will work – where ye will fix clocks, of all things.”

*****

I was given a table in the kitchen, in the corner under a big window that didn’t have any glass. I’d spent so much time working in my basement shop that I’d never known what it was like to have so much light; that is, when the sun was shining. It rained a lot, but the rain was different than the rain from home. When it rained at home, it stunk. When it rained in 18th century Scotland, it smelled good; sweet and comforting.

At first, no one knew what to make of me as I sat at my empty table eyeing the food all around. But on my third day in Scotland, three people brought me clocks to fix. The kitchen staff became interested in my work, which was okay by me because they all learned how much I liked bread, butter and milk. If any of them had time to watch me work they’d leave a plate of food and a cup of milk. By the end of the first week, I had two tables full of clocks to fix and a full stomach. 

Ian told me that news had spread around the village about my skill. It was hard to believe that no one else knew how to fix clocks, but I was lucky to have something that kept me valuable enough to stay out of the dungeon.

I didn’t see the laird or the baby at all, but Una and Corc stopped by my table frequently. They’d look at me funny and sometimes say something, sometimes not. I didn’t care, and I got used to having an audience.

By the middle of the week, Ian was at my side almost constantly. He was more fascinated than anyone else at my skill. He asked me to teach him.

I didn’t know how to teach someone. I’d learned just by watching my grandmother, but she’d never instructed me. I'd just watched and did what she did.

I taught the best I could, and somewhere along the way Ian and I became friends.

I didn’t have any friends really. Friendship wasn’t encouraged at home. We were supposed to go to school, get married at eighteen and then we were told what other couples we could do things with. And we were forbidden from being alone with the opposite sex until after we were married. There were no boy/girl friendships, and no dating like my grandmother had done. Boys and girls went to school together but each of the classrooms had a boy side and a girl side.

I knew boys, but only a little and only enough to wonder if I would have to choose one of them to marry. After receiving the letter, I knew I’d be choosing from a group of people I’d never met: divorced or widowed. I was marrying someone older than me, maybe lots older. 

I began to look forward to ‘teaching’ Ian and making a friend. A friend, it turned out, was just someone you liked to talk to, liked to be around. It wasn't hard and it was fun even if I fought having fun while I was a prisoner.

Ian was fourteen, had a desire to become a great fighter, and he read books more quickly than anyone else in the castle.

He made me smile and laugh and he took away the desperate moments of longing that dug out my stomach when I thought about my mother. What did she think had happened to me? I missed her.

“Are ye going to let me do this one by myself?” Ian said on the first day of my second week in the castle. “It’s just this . . . right here, it’s just this.” He pointed.

“It’s called a mainspring. You forget that all the time.”

“I ken, but I dinna ken why.” He scratched at his head. “Mainspring. I will write the word a hundred times later to remember it.”

“You will?”

“No, but I thought that’s what ye’d like to hear.”

“Here, take this,” I handed him some small pliers, “and pull up gently.”

With the pliers he took hold of the end of the spring. But he didn’t pull gently.

“Oops. No, not like that. Here, put your fingers like this.” I put my hand over his larger one and guided his fingers through the maneuver. The spring attached easily.

“See, you just have to take your time.” I went to pull my hand off his. He’d turned his hand, though, and for a second it seemed he was trying to hold mine. He released it before it was too noticeable, but his blush gave him away.

“You did it,” I said, hoping I wasn’t blushing too.

Ian was fourteen, I was sixteen. Even though I hadn’t spent a lot of time with boys, spending time with him was easy. I hoped I hadn’t done something wrong by touching his hand. I didn't know if I was making friends the right way or the wrong way. 

“Aye,” he said. He flashed a brief smile. “Excuse me, lass, I just remembered I’d told my Da I’d help him with some errands.”

“Sure,” I said as he practically sprinted away. Was the dungeon my next stop? Was it against the rules to touch him that way? We’d had similar moments for days and it hadn’t seemed to matter.

I sighed.

I wanted to go home.

And, I sort of didn’t.

I’d been under castle-arrest for the last seven days, and yet I was doing things I'd never been allowed to do at home. I was fixing clocks and it wasn't a secret. I wasn't being watched by Govment officials, even though sometimes Corc seemed like a Govment official. I missed my mom more than I could take sometimes, but if I ever got to go home I knew I’d miss these people too, especially Ian.

Originally, I wanted to escape the castle, but not so much now. I still wanted to get home, but I didn’t want to escape just to get away from these people. I’d learned that the Castle Lennox wasn’t far, but would take a full day to walk to. I had no desire to even try to get there.

The only conclusion I could come to was that I needed to try to get back to the crazy old woman, Berna. She’d told me to get to the Castle Lennox or get back to her. Even though she was crazy, she knew I’d traveled through time. She was my best bet on figuring how to get home. I hoped. I didn't really know much of anything, though. She could kill me with her knife and no one would ever know.

Not only did I hope she could help, I hoped she'd explain what a time sneak was - and was I really one? Was I really someone who could travel through time? Why? How did I do it? Could I choose where I wanted to go? Could I go back and visit Granny? Could I take my mom with me?

Too many questions. No answers.

But, the big party was only five days away and I might get my chance. The entire castle was becoming crazy with the preparations. I looked for possible moments to escape; especially after the uncomfortable moment with Ian. They’d put me right where there were always people, though. The kitchen was a high-traffic zone and I was never alone.

I slept in a small room not far from the kitchen. I’d opened the door a couple times at night and had always seen someone doing something. With all the food and fresh air I was getting, I was exhausted at night and the feather mattress I slept on was as comfortable as a cloud and I had no alarm clock. I spent most nights sleeping instead of trying to escape.

Ian came back the next day and sat beside me for a few minutes, but he didn’t stay long. He acted like nothing was wrong. He said he had to help the laird with the preparations for the party. I barely saw him over the next few days, but he did stop by on the day of the party.

“Ye are invited to attend,” he said happily.

“I am?”

“Aye. Una will put a dress in yer room. I have to help my Da, but someone will stop by to escort ye.”

“Okay. Well, thanks,” I said. The laird probably thought I wouldn’t be able to escape if I was in the middle of the party. He was probably right.

“Yer welcome. I’ll see ye this even’in, then.”

“Sure.”

According to Una, it was called a Gathering. Citizens from all over the laird’s land would come to offer their pledge of loyalty to him. Even the death of the laird’s wife a month earlier hadn’t stopped the Gathering. According to Una, the death only meant that more people would attend.

My dress was blue and had been altered to fit me better than anything else I’d worn. I didn’t put a ribbon in my hair or anything else on my face. I’d been given some too-small slippers, but they were so uncomfortable that I decided to wear my sneakers. They weren’t much of a novelty anymore, anyway. People had become accustomed to the clock-girl with the strange shoes.

Satisfied that I looked as good as I possibly could, I opened my room door.

“Miss.” Corc stood before me. He had cleaned up and wore brightly colored clothing, including a kilt that was all reds and yellows. 

“Corc?”

He bowed regally and said, “At yer service, Mistress.”

“Uh.”

“Lord Duncan has instructed me that ye are a welcome guest in the castle. Ye are to be treated like family. I am here to escort ye to dinner.”

“Really?”

“Aye, mistress, really.” He tried to smile, he really did. But I knew that being my date to the Gathering wasn't going to be fun for him.

“Well, thank you.” What else could I say? Telling him to go away and leave me alone wouldn’t have worked.

And then he offered me his arm, which I took hesitantly. He sighed and nodded at me with a squint as if to say I wouldn’t catch anything deadly by touching him. 

We made our way to the great hall at the front of the castle. With each step, party-type noise got louder and I became more nervous.

“Where’s Ian?” I asked Corc.

“’e’s with his da, lass. E’ll have business to attend to this evening.”

“Oh.” I wanted to know what business but I didn't ask. 

“Not to worry, lass, ye are in good hands.” Corc smiled and patted mine.

“You don’t have to babysit me, Corc. I’ll be fine,” I said.

“Babysit?” He looked doubtful. “Weel, we’ll just see how it goes, lass. Will that be agreeable?”

“Sure.”

I had never seen so many people in one place in my entire life. Most of them were men. And most, but not all, of them were shorter than me. There were so many and they were a loud bunch.

“Come along now, lass, ye’ll be fine,” Corc said.

I didn’t realize that I’d tightened my grip on his arm.

“If you say so,” I said.

Corc laughed. “Come along, Una has a seat for ye.”

He threaded me through the spectacular crowd. The men, dressed in their best kilts, stood proud. No one paid a bit of attention to me as I listened to them mumble in rehearsal of their pledges. The women were in their best dresses, colorful and bright. Most of them stayed close by a man and offered their ears for the practiced speeches, but a few were working on their own. In my life, I had never experienced anything even close to the Gathering. It made me want to run, cry and laugh all at the same time. It was almost too much. I pulled Corc's arm tighter. 

Once we’d made it midway through the hall, I could see Ian and his father sitting in higher placed chairs and against a tapestry (I'd learned that's what the decorated rugs were called) decorated wall. Ian was in a red, yellow and blue kilt and plaid, which I’d come to learn was what they called the long scarf-type item that they wrapped around themselves. His father looked intimidating in his own get-up and I felt my breath suck in. I hadn’t seen him in almost two weeks and his presence made me remember just how much power he exuded. He was the picture of strength and seriousness, though both Ian and he greeted those around them in a friendly enough manner.