between his feet. He thought again of Len and his sadness welled in him. He had come to the Village to get a new grip on what was left of his life. He hadn’t expected that to include falling in love, and yet he almost had.
“I’m a fool, Butter,” he said. “A simpleton. An innocent abroad in a sea of sharks.” Butter yawned. Ben turned his head and looked at her without straightening up. “You don’t agree, I see.” He scratched his ankle. “Or you don’t care.” Butter half closed her eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t care, either, but I don’t know how to stop.” Ben sat up and looked over the cove. The sun was sloping westward; it looked like it was almost sitting on top of Obaheah Rock.
“Come, Butter,” Ben said. Butter ignored him. “Come, Butter,” he repeated. She decided he indeed meant the command, and got to her feet. She came up to him and stood before him, waiting for his next move. He reached out and stroked the hair on her head. She stood still. “Oh, Butter,” Ben said, “are you still mad at me?” He felt his tears begin again. Butter reached out with her tongue and gently licked them away. Ben put his arms around her and hugged her. She licked his face again.
“Thank you, Butter,” Ben said. “Thank you.” Ben snapped the leash on Butter’s collar and together they started back toward their cottage. The sun dipped lower over Obaheah, catching its head in a ring of fire.
When they got to the cottage, Dickon was waiting for them on the porch. Butter ran eagerly toward him when Ben released her.
“Hi,” Ben said.
“‘Lo,” Dickon said. Butter bounded up on the porch and whined to go inside.
“Come on in,” Ben said. “Have some tea.”
“No thanks. Can’t stay. Just wanted to remind you of the hearing tomorrow.”
“Do you need a ride?” Ben hoped the drive to Las Tumbas might provide a chance to break through the wall he sensed between them.
Dickon shook his head. “La Señora has asked me to go with her and Elke. Maybe you can offer a ride to Emma and Notta.”
“Okay.” Ben noted his own relief and disappointment at Dickon’s answer, and promised himself to explore his reaction later. He went around Dickon and opened the door and screen to let Butter in. He knew she was thirsty, and hoped there was sufficient water in her dish. Behind him Dickon stood up. Ben turned around. A slanting ray of the setting sun settled in Dickon’s hair, reddening it. Dickon’s face was more shadowed, and hard to read.
“We’ll have to talk some time,” Dickon said. “When it’s right for both of us.”
“Yes,” Ben said. “Soon, maybe.”
“Well, I’ve got to go,” Dickon said. He hurried down the steps and along the walk toward the gate. “Good night, Ben.”
“Good night, Dickon. See you at the hearing tomorrow.”
“Right.” Dickon opened the gate, turned left, and went toward his own cottage without looking back.
Emma Takes a Leap
Haakon sat in Emma’s kitchen drinking coffee and stroking Prime Pussy. Unaccountably, the curmudgeonly cat had determined Haakon was an acceptable human. That Ermentrude had tried to take over Haakon had nothing to do with it, of course. At all adventures, Prime Pussy had asserted the primacy of her prerogatives; it was she who sat on Haakon’s lap, while Ermentrude circled his feet, mewling.
Emma was at the stove, stirring oatmeal porridge for Haakon. Privately Emma thought oatmeal an abomination, but Dr. Field insisted it was recuperative for Haakon, and he didn’t seem to mind swallowing the gluey stuff. Judging the mess properly cooked, she spooned it into a bowl, set the pan to soak in the sink, and brought it to Haakon.
“Down, Prime Pussy,” she said. Prime Pussy developed sudden feline deafness syndrome. She had never cared for the silly rule that cats shouldn’t sit in the laps of people who were eating.
“Let her be,” Haakon said. “She feels good on my lap this morning. Soft and warm and cuddly.” The raspy echo of pneumonia still haunted his voice. He had nearly recuperated, though weak. “I haven’t had much cuddling, these last few years.” Emma poured herself a cup of tea and sat down.
“I don’t imagine so,” Emma said. “You’ve been in prison, haven’t you?”
Haakon shrank back in his chair. “Does it show?”
“Yes, to someone who has been around as long as I have.” She smiled at him
“Besides,” she went on, “anyone who can enjoy my oatmeal has been on restricted rations. That usually means the army or prison, and you’re probably too old for the army.” She swirled the tea in her cup, staring at it.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” she continued.
“Ma’am?”
“We’ve met before.” She looked into his blue eyes and saw only puzzlement there.
Haakon shrugged. “I knew a lot of women before I went into prison. Please don’t be offended if I don’t remember you. It’s been a long time since I lived that part of my life.”
“I don’t expect I’d stand out in your recollection,” she said. “We only spent one afternoon together. It was earthshaking for me.” She waited a moment, to give him a chance to guess. He didn’t.
“It was the day of the Great Temblor.” Slowly the light of understanding washed over Haakon’s features.
“You’re that Emma,” he said. He coughed, took a sip of the coffee to clear his throat. “I used to wonder if you got home okay,” he said. “That was the day I was arrested for looting. Oh, it was my own stuff I was getting, but I could never prove that in court. So I wound up at La Lechuga.” He stroked Prime Pussy’s head. She purred her approval.
“I tried to find you after the temblor,” Emma said. “I scanned the newspapers for your obituary, or any other news I could get of you. Mae Ling couldn’t tell me, nor could the Wong brothers, where you’d gone.”
“My case was in all the papers,” Haakon said, “but under the name Haven Fitz. Some bureaucrat who couldn’t hear got my name wrong, and so I was re-christened. I served my time at La Lechuga as Haven Fitz.” Prime Pussy began kneading her claws on Haakon’s knee. He gently pushed her off. She stalked away in a snit. Ermentrude leaped into her place on Haakon’s lap. Haakon rubbed her under her chin. She purred a more reedy sound than Prime Pussy had made. “I sort of fell off the earth.”
“Indeed you did.” Emma got up and turned the heat on under the kettle. “More coffee?”
“No, I’m fine, thanks.” Haakon drained his cup and set it to one side of the table. A stray sunbeam, dressed in gray wintry garb, came through the window and sat in the empty cup. “Why did you try to find me?”
“I discovered I was pregnant.” Emma looked down at the kettle, not quite ready to look at Haakon.
“And you thought it was mine?” Haakon said, after a moment, in a quiet voice. Ermentrude went on purring her reedy purr. Her purring filled the silence in the kitchen until the steam gathered strongly enough to make the kettle whistle. Ermentrude did not like the kettle; she snarled, and launched herself from Haakon’s lap. Her trajectory ended with her front paws on Prime Pussy’s tail. Foul cat language followed, as the two felines exited the room, grumbling.
“You are the only man with whom I have ever had carnal relations,” Emma said. She turned to look at Haakon. He was trembling. He clasped his shaking hands together to control them.
“But we were only together once,” Haakon said. “You’re sure it was with me? Maybe we’re remembering separate incidents.”
“I hired you through Mae Ling,” Emma said quietly, pouring the hot water over a fresh teabag. She turned and put the kettle on the stove and turned off the burner. “It was the afternoon of the Great Temblor. You had taken me to the zoo, after we had lunch at Hung Chow’s. You went on at some length, as I recall, talking about St. Sebastian paintings, and particularly about the arrows.”
“That was probably me, then.” Haakon’s face had the trapped look of a cornered hen; his eyes darted righ
t and left and right and left as if he hoped to find a hole in a fence he could crawl through. “Why did you try to find me? I couldn’t have helped with the expense, or anything.”
“I didn’t want money. I just wanted you to know you had a child. I thought I owed you that.” She studied the fever-refined man before her. His prison years had ground the muscles from him, leaving wiry ropes in their place. His recent illness had leached the strength from the ropes. Even tense as he was now, he seemed more fragile than tough.
“I should have worn protection,” he said. “I hadn’t planned anything like having sex that day. I usually just squired ladies around. You must have gotten to me some way or another.” He looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry, Emma. I should have been more careful.”
“I’m not sorry, Haakon,” she said, and sat down at the table again. “Notta has been the best part of my adult life. I don’t condemn you. I thank you for her.”
“Oh,” Haakon said, “Okay.” He used the table to support himself as he got his trembling legs under him. “I don’t know what to say. Does she know?”
“Notta? Not yet. I wanted to be sure it was you, first. I’ll tell her in my own good time. She’s a sensible girl, but it may shock her. It’s not as if I’ve hidden anything from her, about her origins. I think the mystery has always bothered her, especially when she was younger, and the other kids had fathers to talk about. Then, as