The Endless Forest (22 page)

“Is it true school will start again next week?”

“Barring unforeseen circumstances,” he said. Elizabeth caught his gaze and he raised a brow. Birdie’s voice took on a certain tone when she was about to announce a plan of some kind, and it was there now.

“It’s aye high time,” Jennet said, and then when everyone looked at her, she ducked her head in embarrassment. “I love the bairns one and all, but it’s enough to wring a woman dry, having all of them about at once.”

Luke put a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it. “I can take the boys with me, you know. You only have to say.”

“Och, I think not.” Jennet laughed and brushed his hand away. “The last time I let them go with you to buy furs they cursed like sailors for a month.”

“I look forward to having your monsters at school,” Daniel said. “But I will be glad to have the new teacher here in the fall so we can split the class in two.”

Luke looked up from his soup. “When do you expect him?”

A whole chorus of voices answered him: “September.”

“Not that we’re anxious,” Ben said dryly. “Except of course Birdie. Little sister is more than anxious.”

Birdie sat up very straight, her mouth pressed into a hard line. Arguing with herself, wondering if she dare say what she was thinking or if she would be banished to the children’s table if she did such a thing. In the next years she would learn to hide what she was thinking, but for now Elizabeth could still read her youngest child’s face like words on a page.

Ethan’s attention was on Birdie. He said, “I think you like school more than you want to admit. Martha was just like that, always pretending not to be interested.”

Martha looked surprised at this observation, but Birdie gave her no chance to respond.

“I don’t like school,” Birdie said, each word pronounced clearly, like a finger tapping on the table.

“But it’s only because the classroom is overcrowded,” Elizabeth said. “When there are two classrooms and Daniel can give all his attention to the more advanced students, Birdie will stop chafing.”

“I should hope so,” Nathaniel said. “You’re made of sterner stuff than that, Birdie. You can survive the rest of this school year. And—” he looked at her intently, “you can do it without complaint.”

“But Da, that’s not the only problem,” Birdie said, her tone rising. “Everything moves so slowly—I know, the others need a chance to learn too, but it’s so frustrating. Sometimes I feel like I have to scream.”

“Surely not,” Elizabeth said firmly.

“But I’ve got a solution,” Birdie said. She looked around the table. “Will you listen?”

Everyone stilled at the idea of one of Birdie’s plans, but Martha flushed so deeply that the color touched her hairline.

She said, “Birdie, please don’t.”

“I must,” she said, and her next words came rapidly, as if she expected to be physically stopped, but was determined to get as much said as possible.

“I think Martha could take the other classroom for the two months left in this school session. Wait! Let me finish. Ethan saw to it that she got an excellent education and she’s good with children; you’ve seen how the little people follow her around and pay attention when she talks.”

She stopped to draw in a breath, and Martha stepped in.

“I want to say clearly that this was not my idea, and that when Birdie raised the subject to me, I told her no.”

“You said you’d think about it!”

“I did not,” Martha’s color was still high, but her tone was calm. “You asked me if I ever thought of teaching and I said I didn’t have the training. Ethan, please tell them I don’t have the education I would need.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Truth be told, I don’t think I can say such a thing. You went through the entire trivium. It’s true you rebelled now and again, but you were an excellent student.”

Martha’s expression lifted. “Why then, Ethan, why don’t you take the second classroom until the session ends? You do have teaching experience.”

“Now, that’s an idea,” Nathaniel said, turning in Ethan’s direction.

“One I already thought of,” Daniel said. “Maybe you’ll have more luck talking him into it than I did.”

“Daniel asked and I did think about it,” Ethan said. “But there’s so much rebuilding to get done, I just don’t see how I could manage.”

Martha turned to Elizabeth, a pleading look on her face. “I have no experience, you know that. Would you please put an end to this discussion?”

Elizabeth knew that she should do just that, but instead something entirely different came out of her mouth. “You have more formal education now than I did when I began teaching, and just as much experience.”

With the floodgates opened, everyone began to talk at once, questions and declarations bumping into each other so that nothing sensible came out anywhere. In the middle of all that, Daniel was quiet, his expression thoughtful. Not happy or unhappy, but alert and watchful.

Nathaniel raised a hand, and just that simply the talking stopped.

“One at a time,” he said. “Boots, did you have anything else to say?”

“Well,” Elizabeth began slowly. “I see some advantages to the idea, if all parties were agreed. That is, both Martha and Daniel have to come to the conclusion that the arrangement would be a beneficial one. For everyone.”

“Daniel?”

He cleared his throat, and then cleared it again. His good hand moved to touch his left shoulder, a gesture Elizabeth recognized and which she was very surprised to see at that moment.

“But you must see,” Martha said, her tone almost insistent. “This has put Daniel in an awkward position. So please let me say, Daniel, if you will speak sense on this matter I would be thankful. Let’s let this subject go, can we please? It is very hard to refuse you, you’ve all been so good to me in these last weeks—” She paused to catch her breath.

Elizabeth watched Daniel, the son she knew best and understood least. He had withdrawn from them all to nurse his wounds in isolation, and she had watched him go and despaired. For years she counted herself fortunate if she saw him at their table even once a week. But since they were come home from Manhattan that had changed. Now he came to the house every day, and usually stayed for supper. There was something in his expression she had not seen for a very long time.

Openness, for want of a better word. Open to the world around him. It had something to do with Lily coming home, but it also had to do with Martha Kirby. And she was beginning to believe that Martha was the primary source of the change in his behavior.

Now he was smiling, but it was a quiet smile and there was nothing of teasing in it.

He said, “It’s premature of you to reject a proposal I haven’t even made yet, don’t you think, Martha?”

Elizabeth heard herself gasp in surprise, and she was not the only one. Martha looked ready to bolt, in embarrassment and anger. She stood suddenly, but Daniel kept talking.

He was saying, “I think there would be some advantages to having Martha’s help, but it was rude of Birdie to raise this subject at the supper table. It was selfish of you to raise the subject at all, Birdie. I know you are frustrated with school, but that is no excuse for embarrassing Martha in front of her friends.”

All the color left Birdie’s face. She turned stiffly toward her father. “God-kissing carrion, Da. If she’s embarrassed it’s because Daniel’s flirting with her in front of everybody.”

“Enough,” Nathaniel said in the tone all the children recognized. “And please, Birdie, if your ma can resist quoting Shakespeare at table, you could do as much.”

Birdie dropped her head and studied her plate, but her expression was mutinous. She was mumbling to herself, her whole person twitching with frustration. They all listened to this for a moment. Even Martha stayed where she was, turned toward the door.

“Go on then,” Nathaniel said. “Say whatever it is you’ve got stuck in your throat. And then go up to bed. We’ll not see you at this supper table again, not until you’ve seen the error of your ways and made amends.”

Birdie stood up, wounded and angry that her plan had come to nothing. She said, “I am not being selfish. I am not. It’s for Lily; the whole idea is for Lily.”

“How would my teaching help Lily?” Martha asked, her tone calmer.

Jennet said, “Ach, that’s the plan.” And to the table: “Birdie is thinking that Martha could move in to the apartment in the schoolhouse and then Lily and Simon could move up here and take her chamber.”

“It’s small, but I don’t think they’ll complain about cramped quarters,” Birdie said, trying to sound dignified.

Luke said, “But that would mean that Martha would have to live alone in the apartment. There would be a lot of talk.”

Daniel said, “Exactly. Which is why it’s out of the question. Not the teaching—that’s something I’d want to talk about—but Martha living alone in the schoolhouse, no.”

Birdie opened her mouth as if she had something more to say, and then slumped back down into her chair when she saw her father raise a single eyebrow in her direction.

“Are ye saying that the people in the village would keep their children awa in protest?” Simon asked.

“It’s likely,” Daniel said. “An unmarried woman living in the school-house just wouldn’t sit with most anybody.”

“He’s right,” Elizabeth said, and all eyes turned toward her. “Even if Martha wanted the apartment, it wouldn’t be a good idea. She came home hoping to start fresh and avoid the gossip that made her life so difficult in Manhattan. But we’ve been talking about this as if Martha had no voice and could not speak for herself. Martha, what do you think?”

The girl’s complexion was splotched with color and her eyes flashed in the candlelight; she was holding back tears.

“It would cause talk,” she said quietly. “That’s true.”

Birdie was bouncing in place in her earnest need to be heard.

“Birdie, go on.”

“Ma,” she said, resolutely refusing to look at Daniel. “You are always telling us that we have to make decisions based on our own understanding of right and wrong. It’s the way we’re supposed to live our lives. It’s our way.”

“Birdie,” Martha said. She drew in a deep breath and let it go. “Birdie, you forget, I am not one of you and I won’t be judged as if I were. I also understand now that I am the one who has been selfish. Your plan was meant to bring Lily back home, and that’s as it should be. She should be here. Tomorrow I’ll go see about taking a room at the Red Dog. I should have done that on the first day.”

Birdie reached out to take her wrist before she could walk away.

“I never meant to drive you away! That wasn’t the idea at all!”

“Now ain’t this a mess,” Ben said. He pitched his voice just so, and they all turned to him. “Everybody’s so wound up you can’t see what’s sitting right in front of you. Martha, stay a minute and hear me out, and if you’ll listen, I’ll see if I can untangle things. Elizabeth? Nathaniel?”

Nathaniel made a sweeping gesture with his hand, an invitation to go ahead.

Ben Savard didn’t often speak up, but when he did people paid attention. His eyes were a strange and compelling blue-green that even the most conservative of matrons, the ones who disliked Africans and Indians on principle and were horrified by the very idea that nature would allow a human being of mixed race to survive birth—even they could not look away when Ben Savard smiled. Elizabeth had seen it happen more than once in the village, and it happened again around the table as postures relaxed.

“Fifty years ago they would have called him a witch,” Hannah had once said about her husband. “He only has to look at you hard and say a word to get his way.”

Ben said, “Now bear with me while I work through this and make sure I’ve got it all right. We know Lily needs watching over, and everybody would be happier if Elizabeth could do that right here, at home. That’s not to say Birdie ain’t done a good job, because she has.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “She has done an excellent job.”

“But Birdie belongs in school,” Ben said. “She wants to be in school
too, but not until she can be in the upper class and away from the little ones. What she’s looking for is a way to make that happen before she has to go back to school, and so she was hoping her ma and da would keep her out of the classroom to help look after Lily. Ain’t that so, little sister?”

Birdie crossed her arms and gave a curt nod.

“That’s answer enough for me,” Ben said and to his credit he didn’t even smile.

“So then there’s the fact that the new teacher won’t be here till the fall. There’s two months left in the school year and things are about to get more crowded still.

“Now have a look at Miss Martha Kirby standing there. She’s got an education—Ethan ain’t one to praise without cause—and nothing to do all day long except darn socks and settle arguments between little people. Seems to me that if Martha were to take over the school for the rest of the session, Luke could take the older ones into the second classroom and they can move along at their own pace. Birdie would get that much of what she wants, anyway.

“Now here’s the last piece, something nobody has brought up. Think it through. Once Lily and Simon move up here, ain’t their house empty? Ethan built it and it still belongs to him. I doubt he’d have any objection to Martha living there until she can build a place of her own. You can work out the question of rent between you. Mrs. Thicke would stay on to keep house and quiet the gossip. So there you are. If there’s some problem I’m overlooking, I think that would solve most of what’s got everybody tied in knots.”

“But Martha said she won’t—” Birdie began, and Elizabeth cut her off.

“We’ll not get into that discussion again. Ben has given us a great deal to think about, and we need to do that before we talk about this any further. The truth is that we could spend the whole night arguing about the teaching situation, but it’s not our decision. Those are questions for Martha and Daniel to decide.”

Nathaniel rubbed his jawline with the flat of his hand. “Daniel? You got nothing to say to Ben’s idea?”

Daniel cleared his throat. “In all of this I think the most important thing is that Lily move back home so Ma can look after her and get some sleep at night. If Martha is agreeable to taking over Ethan’s house.” His tone was gentle and friendly and still it was insincere; he understood,
as they all did, that if nothing else came out of this conversation, Martha would be leaving the household. She would not stay, and the thought made Elizabeth sick at heart. It was not the way she had wanted to resolve the problem.