Arcadia

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Book: Arcadia by Lauren Groff Read Free Book Online
Authors: Lauren Groff
Tags: Fiction, Literary, Coming of Age, Family Life
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burnt baby. Bit pictures one of the marshmallows from before Astrid’s war against sugar, crumpled and black on the edge of the bonfire.
    No, Astrid says. From smoke. In his sleep. Small blessings. Maria is burnt, but she will be home soon. Ricky is with her in the hospital.
    Leif says, angrily, Handy should know about this. If Handy knows, he’ll come home and make it better. My dad can fix it.
    Astrid does her funny in-breath that means a yes. Assent on the intake, Hannah calls it. I called Handy in Austin, Astrid says, kissing Leif. In Texas. He told me to tell you he loves us all and he is sending vibes into the ether. He wanted to come home, but Maria and Ricky said no, don’t return early, we need the cash from the concerts. Besides, they’re not ready yet to have the memorial. We’ll have a service for Felipe in the spring.
    I want my dad, says Leif; and his big boy’s face crumples and he begins to cry.
    Astrid pulls him to her, pulls all of her children, Erik and Leif, froggy Helle, hyper Ike, to her, and says into their matching white-blond hair, Well, that’s another story, indeed.
    In the morning, Bit runs to the stream trickling in the woods. Yellow jags of ice edge the water. Bit kneels on the ice and puts his head in the stream, and the cold is enough to rip the breath from him, a relief.
    Handy sends a letter, express. Astrid calls a meeting in the Octagonal Barn, and they gather in the late afternoon to hear Hiero read it aloud. Handy says greetings to all his beautiful beatniks. He is devastated by the news, and feels profoundly for the Free People keeping the faith at the Homeplace. He urges them to remember that suffering is what tempers the steel in the human soul, and when one suffers in community, the community grows stronger.
    Hiero’s voice shakes when he reads: Pain, when given its proper place in the human heart, can be a door that leads to a feeling of oneness with the Universe. This is a path to deeper empathy.
    Soon enough, Handy tells them, they will all be together. Try to be strong and we will bear the impossible weight of our sorrow in communion. Namaste.
    Namaste, they say, and the women cry, holding one another. The babies goggle at their mothers and pat their faces.
    After one week, Maria returns from the hospital, her head and arms wrapped like gifts in white bandages. Ricky and she seem to be carrying one another wherever they walk.
    Bit sits under the table as Marilyn and Hannah drink St.-John’s-wort tea. They talk about the oil embargo, about Marilyn’s webbed feet, about thalidomide babies, born with flippers. Bit thinks of a wee newborn flapping underwater, like the beaver that lived in the stream behind the Family Quonsets and gave them all giardia one spring.
    He goes back to his book, the story of the fisherman and his wife. The women forget about him. They begin to murmur.
    I don’t know how much longer I can handle it, Hannah says. This isn’t what I signed up for, this isn’t a better life, this isn’t anything but poverty and hard work and not enough money to buy the kids winter boots.
    I know, says Marilyn.
    Hannah’s voice goes muffled when she says, . . . want . . . out . She makes a sound that doesn’t seem human. Bit watches her legs worriedly, afraid she is sick.
    Marilyn’s voice, softer than ever. Hang in there. We move into Arcadia House in less than a month. We’ll all live together, and everything will be better. You can make it.
    I can’t, Hannah says. Fucking Handy . . .
    You can, says Marilyn, and her voice sounds like a door closing, and Bit knows that there exist things even outspoken Hannah isn’t allowed to say.
    A taste of Saucy Sally’s poppyseed cake, the way Leif can swing Bit by the legs so the world spins deliriously past, the feel of running on the last crust of snow when the others fall through, that softness at the end of a branch that is the whisper of a bud. He adds to the list in his head. Raspberry jam on just-baked bread.

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