The Dust of 100 Dogs - A. S. King [30]
Emer threw her a look, as if she were about to cry.
“I’ll let you stitch when your chores are finished. Just do as I say.”
She got up and secured the two buckets on her shoulders. Passing her uncle on the way out, she looked at the dirt and braced herself for a slap that didn’t come.
When she arrived at the narrow river next to the spring, Seanie was there and he gave her their secret signal—two fingers raised in a wave. He smiled and she could feel herself melting. He was just so handsome! How could her uncle and aunt not want her to be happy? Her mother was right! The minute she saw him, she knew it. He was the one, and there would be a way.
He shuffled over to stand next to her and brushed his fingers across her hand. He helped her fill her buckets and lifted them onto her back. Emer returned to the house and filled the trough, but abandoned the buckets by the door and walked back to the well.
She and Seanie had a secret place, a shallow cave beyond the rocky hill. It wasn’t a big spot, but it was private. Other kids knew of it, but there was a myth of a monster who lived there and how he ate children, so no one bothered.
They sat for a while, silent as usual, and held hands. Seanie looked out over the small valley, and Emer focused on the rock face beside her until she found the courage to do what her mother wanted.
“You’re my best friend,” she whispered. Seanie jumped a bit, startled.
He looked at her. She was mortified—now he would hate her for playing mute.
“You’re the only boy I’ve ever liked, aside from Padraig, my brother. He’s dead now.”
He continued staring at her, not frowning or smiling, but just staring.
“My parents are dead, too. That’s why I’m stuck with Martin and Mary. Mary told me yesterday that I wasn’t to spend time with you anymore.”
He smiled.
“She said that I can’t marry some dumb boy.”
“I’m not dumb.”
They stared at each other, wide-eyed.
“I knew it!” she squealed. “I knew it!”
He looked serious. “I just don’t have much to say. Well, I didn’t.”
“Me neither.”
“Until I met you.”
“What will we do? Will we tell them now that we can speak and that we’re in love and that we’ll marry in spite of what they say?”
Seanie laughed, and Emer felt stupid for saying such childish things.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just scared because my uncle wants to marry me to whoever he chooses. I know you probably don’t want to marry me.”
“I do.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
“Well, what will we do, then?”
“We’re too young now. No one would believe us, anyway. The people here are so busy with work, they don’t believe in love anymore. That’s what I think.”
“I believe.”
“Me too.”
They sat in the cave for an hour holding hands and exchanging looks and a few words. Before they got up to leave, Emer leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m so glad you’re not dumb like they said,” she said.
“I’m glad, too.”
As they walked back over the small hill, Emer felt like her mother. It was a small feeling, not yet filled with the confidence of a grown woman, but it made her feel happy and beautiful.
One morning two weeks later, while working on her small embroidered scrap, Emer spoke to her aunt.
“I think I’ll need another scrap. This one is full up.”
Mary stared.
“I’ve done my chores and my lessons. Can I have another bit of twill?”
“I can’t believe it.”
“No, really, come and look. If I stitch this piece any more, it will fall apart in my hands.”
Mary sat beside her and hugged her. “I can’t believe it. You’ve come out. You’ve come out! Martin!”
“Shh,” Emer hissed. “Don’t tell him. He’ll only start hitting me again.”
Mary hid her shame and went to the door. Martin was nowhere to be seen.
“What brought this on?”
“Things.”
“What things? It was the embroidery, wasn’t it?” Mary was already inventing a bragging story for her friends about how she’d cured a mute girl.
“Yes. And something else.”
“What?”
“I can’t say.”
“Why not?”
“If I told you, you’d get very angry.”
“Then you should tell me now and get it over with.”
Emer thought about it. “Okay. It was