Gathering Blue - Lois Lowry [24]
"Probably there be snakies all in here," Matt told her with a mischievous smile.
"I'm not afraid of snakes."
"Most girls be."
"Not me. There were always small snakes in my mother's garden. She said they were friends to the plants. They ate bugs."
"Like Branchie. Look, he catched him one now." Matt pointed. His dog had pounced upon an unlucky creature with long thin legs. "That be called a daddy longlegs."
"Daddy longlegs?" Kira laughed. She'd not heard the name before. "Do you have a father?" she asked the boy curiously.
"Nah. Did onct. But now, me mum is all I got."
"What happened to your father?"
He shrugged. "Dunno.
"In the Fen," he added, "things is different. Many gots no pa. And them that gots them, they be scairt of them, 'cause they hit something horrid.
"Me mum hits too," he added, with a sigh.
"I had a father. He was a fine hunter," Kira told him proudly. "Even Jamison said so. But my father was taken by beasts," she explained.
"Aye, I heared that." She could see that Matt was trying to look sad for her benefit, but it was difficult for a boy whose temperament was so merry. Already he was pointing at a butterfly, gleeful at the bright spotted orange of its wings in the dim forest light.
"See this? You brought it with my mother's things, remember?" She lifted the rock pendant from the neck of her shift.
Matt nodded. "It be all purply. And shiny-like."
Kira dropped it back gently inside her clothing. "My father made it as a gift for my mother."
Matt wrinkled his face, thinking that over. "Gift?" he asked.
Kira was startled that he didn't understand. "When you care about someone and give them something special. Something that they treasure. That's a gift."
Matt laughed. "In the Fen, they don't have that," he said. "In the Fen, iffen they give you something special, it be a kick in your buttie.
"But that's a pretty thing you got," he added politely. "You be lucky I saved it."
It was a long journey for Kira, dragging her twisted leg. Her stick caught at roots knotted under the earth of the path, and she stumbled from time to time. But she was accustomed to the awkwardness and the ache. They had always been with her.
Matt had run ahead with Branch, and they returned to her, excited, announcing that the destination was just around the next curve.
"A wee cott it is!" he called. "And there's the crone outside in the garden, with her crookedy hands full of rainbow!"
Kira hurried along, rounded the curve, and understood what he meant. In front of the tiny hut, a bent and white-haired old woman was working near a lush flower garden. She leaned toward a basket on the ground, lifted handfuls of bright-colored yarns — yellow of various shades, from the palest lemon to a deep tawny gold — and hung them across a rope that was strung from one tree to another. Deeper shades of rust and red were already hanging there.
The woman's hands were gnarled and stained. She lifted one in greeting. She had few teeth and her skin was folded into wrinkles, but her eyes were unclouded. She walked nearer to them, gripping a cane made of wood and seeming unsurprised by the sudden visitors. She peered intently at Kira's face. "You liken your mum," she said.
"You know who I am?" Kira asked, puzzled. The old woman nodded.
"My mother has died."
"Aye. I knowed it."
How? How did you know? But Kira didn't ask.
"I'm called Kira. This is my friend. His name is Matt."
Matt stepped forward, suddenly a little shy. "I brung my own crustie," he said. "Me and my doggie, we be no trouble to you."
"Sit," the woman named Annabella said to Kira, ignoring Matt and Branch, who was busily sniffing the garden, looking for the right place to lift his stubby leg. "Doubtless you be weary and pained." She gestured toward a low flattened tree stump, and Kira sank down gratefully, rubbing her aching leg. She unlaced