Chapter 77
Seth must’ve sensed her uneasiness. He reached over and put his hand on her shoulder, a soothing kindness she much appreciated as she tried to make sense out of Esther’s one sided conversation.
It was mostly grunts and one word answers. “Yes.” “No.” “Okay.” In-between, she’d ask an occasional question of clarification, “What time?” “What did he say?” “Are they going to do that?” The conversation dragged on, Esther not even looking Rain in the face as she stared at her free arm, draped between her ample bosom and the table.
After what seemed like a half hour, though it was likely more like ten minutes, Esther thanked Mayor Abraham, whoever that was, and disconnected the call. “The delegate has completed his meeting with the Mothers,” she said, letting out a sigh as she spoke. She shook her head. “They refuse to stand down.”
“What does that mean for us?” Seth asked, his grip on Rain tightening.
“It means, we’ll likely take to the hills and trees, as we always do, and attempt to defend our territory the best we can. The prime minister has already activated the anti-aircraft measures, which means their drones will be of little use. If they’re smart, the Mothers will swing out and go around our western border, the lands between us and Aricornia, but he didn’t seem to think they’d do that, not until they’ve had a thorough search of the location where Mist’s device first started to chirp.”
“So… we didn’t pull them away?” Seth asked, his face dropping with defeat.
“Mayor Abraham didn't say that. He did notice the Mothers had shifted some of their vehicles to the west. He thinks they’re getting the signal from the device still, and that Adam may well draw some attention, but they’ll have to fight their way to him, and that will slow them down.”
“You’re saying that the militia, Oklasaw’s military, is willing to fight to protect us?” Rain asked, unable to believe that could be true.
“While they do seek to help, it’s more about keeping a foreign military power off our land,” Seth explained to her. As he turned, he suddenly seemed to realize his hand was still on her and that it no longer needed to be, so he withdrew it, a bit of crimson creeping up his neck. He cleared his throat. “We tend to take more of a defensive stance in these parts.” The last statement was said with an air of animosity Rain hadn’t missed.
“None of our leaders are upset that you are here,” Esther assured her, though Rain thought that probably wasn’t true. “We just want the Mothers to turn right around and go back to Michaelanburg where they belong.”
“But they don’t belong there either,” Seth said with enough conviction, Rain had to assume he hadn’t just developed that sentiment since she’d arrived. “They need to be eradicated.”
“In good time, boy,” Esther said with a shake of her head. “We don’t need to go pickin’ a fight we can’t win neither.”
Seth opened his mouth to disagree but thought better of it. He closed it, looked at his plate, and then back at his mother. “May I be excused?”
She nodded, and he stood, collecting his dishes and taking them to the kitchen. Rain had never seen such a procedure before. Her mind was still on the exchange when she heard another voice, one she hadn’t heard yet. “May I be excused, Mama?”
Peter--so he could talk.
“Yes, son,” Esther answered. The younger boy took his dishes and headed into the kitchen as well. Rain was also done, but she would wait to ask her question because she thought Seth needed a chance to get out the back door, go get some fresh air, or whatever the inside of a mountain could supply. The idea that she might be going to a dance while Adam ran for his life across dangerous territory, and strangers she’d never get a chance to meet potentially died trying to save her, didn’t sit easy with her, but then, neither did the idea of arguing with Mama.
She heard the back door close and shifted her eyes to her plate. There was some food left, but she’d eaten most of it. “You may be excused, Rain,” Esther said, her voice softer now that she’d had a moment to recover.
“Thank you.” Rain stood, taking her plates and glass as the boys had, and moving to the kitchen, pushing her chair in with her hip as she went. For a moment, she imagined staying here. What if this was every day? Sitting at the table with these people, calling Esther Mama, eating lunch, asking to be excused…. It wasn’t a bad way to live. Maybe someday, she’d have a house and a family and children who asked to be excused before they carried their plates to the kitchen.
Or maybe she’d die in a day or two on her way toward finding that house. At least, she’d gotten the chance to experience it now, and someday, Esther and her family might look back at this day and remember the odd redheaded girl who wore shoe size medium, didn’t know what a phone was, and thought it intriguing to ask to be excused from the dinner table.
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