Read Online Enchantment by Orson Scott Card - Free Book Online Page B

that will use up this food that sits like a lump in my belly!”
    Which is why Ivan found himself repiling all the hay in the barn, miserably hot work with periodic stops for sneezing fits. At the end of the job, he was dripping with sweat and too filthy and itchy to stand it for another moment. Yet when he got to the back door of the house, Sophia wouldn’t let him in. “You think I want all that hay in my house?” she said, looking him over. “Get those clothes off and leave them in the laundry shed. I’ll run a bath for you. I remember you always came home filthy as a child, too. Sweating like a pig. And stinking like a goat!” But she said it all so cheerfully that Ivan could only smile his agreement and obey.
    Just as Marek had predicted, the day’s work really had earned out the breakfast Ivan had eaten. He wasn’t terribly hungry at dinnertime, but at least he didn’t still feel bloated from breakfast. And when he kept dozing off during the meal, he realized that he had finally earned the right to refuse to eat without giving offense. “You poor thing,” said Sophia. “Get to bed before you fall asleep in your cabbage rolls.”
    He woke again at dawn, just like the day before, and even stiffer in his joints and muscles. His back ached from his labor with the hay fork. His hands were sore despite the work gloves he had worn. His first impulse was to roll over and go back to sleep. But he knew that would lead nowhere. He had to get up and work the stiffness out of his body.
    He thought of running another way, down toward the village, perhaps, instead of toward the forest. But in the village he would have to talk to people—it wasn’t Kiev, where strangers let strangers pass without a conversation. And at this hour of the day, he preferred solitude. Besides, was he going to let his own private myth keep him away from the most beautiful part of this countryside?
    So he ran to the place where the path led into the woods, and passed it by without a second look. And when he came back, he didn’t especially hurry, either. The place had lost its power over him.
    Yeah, right. That night, despite an exhausting day spent at the filthy job of cleaning out chicken coops, he kept waking up from one long dream. The same dream as before. And when he woke up in the morning, he knew something that he hadn’t understood before.
    When Mother told him he mustn’t marry Ruth because of her dream, he had thought it was just foolishness on her part. But now he wondered. She knew him better than anyone, didn’t she? Maybe she knew something she couldn’t put into words, something she didn’t really understand. Maybe she understood what it was in his life that made this imaginary place so important to him. The Jewish folktale she had dreamed of was about encumbrances that made a marriage impossible. Well, couldn’t Mother have understood, at some deep level, that Ivan was somehow encumbered in a way that kept him from being free to truly give himself in marriage? That’s why she dreamed the dream she did, and why he dreamed his own dream of this woman who was definitely not Ruth, this woman who was unattainable, protected by a monster in a moat. Maybe he had to overcome this fear before it was right for him to marry Ruth. Maybe that was why he had conceived this impulsive desire to come back to Cousin Marek’s farm. Precisely because he could not go home and become Ruth’s husband as long as that monster still prowled in the chasm around the unattainable sleeping woman.
    But if this was all psychological, how was he going to resolve it?
    Maybe the first step was simply to go to the place and satisfy himself that it didn’t exist. Oh, there might be a meadow, but it wouldn’t be perfectly round, there wouldn’t be a woman in the middle, and the leaves would lie on ordinary ground, and not a chasm at all. Maybe he had to see that his memory was false in order to begin the process of mending this tear in his psyche.
    So on