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Authors: Sara Donati
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because she offered up the explanation.
“The whole village is afloat,” she said. “The hundred-year water Throws-Far told us about.”
“But it’s—” and Lily stopped, because now it was all too obvious. The river had become a lake. All the buildings at the heart of the village stood in at least five feet of water, maybe more.
There was some movement. A canoe, paddling toward the school-house.
“Did they get everyone out?” Lily asked the question though her companions knew as little about what was happening in the village as she did.
Annie said, “The river will drop. It will seek its own level fast, unless there’s more rain.”
Martha gave a hiccupping laugh that was so odd, Lily had to turn to look at her.
“What are you laughing about?”
Martha lifted a shoulder. “Quite a lot. Just the other day Mrs. Peyton—who was to be my mother-in-law? Mrs. Peyton said to me—” Martha stopped.
“What?” Lily said. “What did she tell you?”
“Oh, a great many things,” Martha said. “She told me I was unworthy of her son, that I had been found out for the deceitful wretch I was. This was just after Jemima paid her a call, you understand. And she said—”
That odd and disturbing smile, once more.
“She said that sooner or later, water must seek its own level.”
Martha turned back to the path and picked up her pace.
10
W hen the sky outside the kitchen door began to shift color, Birdie resigned herself to the fact that she would not see the rest of her family today. Usually such an admission would have put her in a very sour mood, but she really had to be thankful that her people were far away from the flood.
She was helping Hannah put a splint on Maria Oxley’s arm, and she had to concentrate very hard with all the noise and confusion in the kitchen.
Maria’s oldest was telling their story again, in a hoarse and whispery voice. There was no stopping him. Nor should they even try, Hannah said.
“It started up the very same minute we heard the fire bell,” he was saying. “There was a noise like a tree falling. Like a hundred trees ripping themselves out of the ground, and Mama stood up so sudden the bowl in her lap fell and broke. Then she was shouting and pushing us to the door, saying that we had to run, we had to run right now and we ran, I carried Joseph but it was hard, the ground was muddy and it was rainingso. And when we stopped to catch our breath I turned and saw it, a—a—fist of water. A giant’s fist punching, pushing trees out of the way. It flipped the Low Bridge like a pancake, and snatched up Miz Yarnell’s milk cow; I saw it, it’s true. That fist lifted our roof like I would pick up a wood chip from the ground. It was like standing on the brim of a bucket filling up fast.” He blinked. “It was like the hand of God.”
Birdie wanted him to stop. She wanted to go away and hide. But she could do neither; she must hold the basin of water for Hannah.
She glanced up and caught sight of Curiosity holding a cup of strong tea to Jimmy Crispin’s mouth. Jimmy was fourteen but he was so good at numbers that his folks didn’t make him quit school like most boys would at his age, to help on the farm. Sometimes Daniel took Jimmy and Birdie and Jamie McCandless aside for a math lesson, just the three of them. Jimmy was Quaker but he was friendly, with a wicked sense of humor and a quick smile.
Curiosity had swaddled Jimmy like a baby and settled him close to the hearth, and he still shivered. Almost everyone was shivering, even the people who hadn’t got caught in the flood waters directly. The continual coming and going robbed the room of its heat, though Curiosity’s grandsons laid on wood almost as fast as they could carry it in. Birdie was wrapped in shawls but she shivered too, so that it took all her effort to concentrate on what Hannah needed her to do.
On the far side of the kitchen a woman began weeping as though her heart would break. Mrs. Oxley kept
“The whole village is afloat,” she said. “The hundred-year water Throws-Far told us about.”
“But it’s—” and Lily stopped, because now it was all too obvious. The river had become a lake. All the buildings at the heart of the village stood in at least five feet of water, maybe more.
There was some movement. A canoe, paddling toward the school-house.
“Did they get everyone out?” Lily asked the question though her companions knew as little about what was happening in the village as she did.
Annie said, “The river will drop. It will seek its own level fast, unless there’s more rain.”
Martha gave a hiccupping laugh that was so odd, Lily had to turn to look at her.
“What are you laughing about?”
Martha lifted a shoulder. “Quite a lot. Just the other day Mrs. Peyton—who was to be my mother-in-law? Mrs. Peyton said to me—” Martha stopped.
“What?” Lily said. “What did she tell you?”
“Oh, a great many things,” Martha said. “She told me I was unworthy of her son, that I had been found out for the deceitful wretch I was. This was just after Jemima paid her a call, you understand. And she said—”
That odd and disturbing smile, once more.
“She said that sooner or later, water must seek its own level.”
Martha turned back to the path and picked up her pace.
10
W hen the sky outside the kitchen door began to shift color, Birdie resigned herself to the fact that she would not see the rest of her family today. Usually such an admission would have put her in a very sour mood, but she really had to be thankful that her people were far away from the flood.
She was helping Hannah put a splint on Maria Oxley’s arm, and she had to concentrate very hard with all the noise and confusion in the kitchen.
Maria’s oldest was telling their story again, in a hoarse and whispery voice. There was no stopping him. Nor should they even try, Hannah said.
“It started up the very same minute we heard the fire bell,” he was saying. “There was a noise like a tree falling. Like a hundred trees ripping themselves out of the ground, and Mama stood up so sudden the bowl in her lap fell and broke. Then she was shouting and pushing us to the door, saying that we had to run, we had to run right now and we ran, I carried Joseph but it was hard, the ground was muddy and it was rainingso. And when we stopped to catch our breath I turned and saw it, a—a—fist of water. A giant’s fist punching, pushing trees out of the way. It flipped the Low Bridge like a pancake, and snatched up Miz Yarnell’s milk cow; I saw it, it’s true. That fist lifted our roof like I would pick up a wood chip from the ground. It was like standing on the brim of a bucket filling up fast.” He blinked. “It was like the hand of God.”
Birdie wanted him to stop. She wanted to go away and hide. But she could do neither; she must hold the basin of water for Hannah.
She glanced up and caught sight of Curiosity holding a cup of strong tea to Jimmy Crispin’s mouth. Jimmy was fourteen but he was so good at numbers that his folks didn’t make him quit school like most boys would at his age, to help on the farm. Sometimes Daniel took Jimmy and Birdie and Jamie McCandless aside for a math lesson, just the three of them. Jimmy was Quaker but he was friendly, with a wicked sense of humor and a quick smile.
Curiosity had swaddled Jimmy like a baby and settled him close to the hearth, and he still shivered. Almost everyone was shivering, even the people who hadn’t got caught in the flood waters directly. The continual coming and going robbed the room of its heat, though Curiosity’s grandsons laid on wood almost as fast as they could carry it in. Birdie was wrapped in shawls but she shivered too, so that it took all her effort to concentrate on what Hannah needed her to do.
On the far side of the kitchen a woman began weeping as though her heart would break. Mrs. Oxley kept
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