Spring
The equinox passed. Despite some snow that still lay in small clumps near the wooded areas around the farm, temperatures began to climb. The summer, Forest said, would be difficult. Hot, with lots of rain at the beginning, but bone dry by the end of the season.
Porkchop decided that the loft should have another exit so they'd taken down the hay bales and opened one side of the double doors. They propped it open with the ladder that leaned against the back of the barn. On the open side of the door frame Santa nailed long strips of fabric to keep out mosquitoes and flies.
To prepare for an early seeding, Jelly and Forest had set up a growing area near the back door of the barn. The large double window let in the sun as it crossed the southwestern sky. Perfect light for the seedlings they’d started. Forest, with Narrow’s help, had built three shelving units from items found around the barn and on their slats now rested dozens of containers. Pearl apple trees, vegetables and herbs sprouted from them.
The only plant that would not cooperate were the cure-all seeds Jelly had brought with her from the orchard. No matter what she did they would not germinate. The small bunch that Narrow had brought her had also gone missing. At the time she’d set the plants at the back with the rest of their planting gear but the next day they were nowhere to be found.
___
"We've got company," Rank told Hap when Hap returned with the produce cart at the end of the day. Rank explained the situation.
"Nowhere else to put her, so you'll be bunking with her. No funny business."
They ate then Rank went to bed. If she was trouble, Rank thought, Hap would have to deal with it first.
Hap's bed was in a dark corner of the cellar across the floor from where the woman sat on the upturned bucket, her chin in her hands. He nodded to her. She lifted her face and nodded back. An image of a brown-haired, fox-faced woman came to his mind. He looked back at her.
"Can I help you?"
Even her voice sounded familiar. He reddened and turned away, back into the shadows.
"No. I think you remind me of someone."
"Think? You don't know?" There was a sing-song quality to her voice.
Hap wanted to talk. It was so frustrating not having anyone to confide in. He occasionally had moments where pieces came back to him but the images were jumbled and didn't make any sense. The image of the fox-faced woman, however, was different. More solid. Real.
"You remind me of someone."
"Who?"
Hap said nothing for a moment. He sat down on his bed.
"Why are you here?" he asked her.
"Ah. Changing the subject. Okay, Hap."
"How do you know my name?" Hap's heart beat faster.
"Rank. Overheard him talking at the station."
Hap relaxed.
"Anyway, a change of scene."
"What?"
"Why I'm here. I wanted a change of scene."
"But you're going to be sold!"
She shrugged.
"What about you Hap? What's your story?"
I don't have a story, he thought. To the woman he said, "I'd best get to sleep. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Hap."
"What’s your name?"
"Ask me tomorrow."
Hap opened his mouth but quickly shut it. He rolled towards the wall and tried to sleep.
When Hap awoke in the morning the woman was asleep, lying on the floor of the storage locker and turned against the wall with the blanket over her head. Rank told Hap about the plan for the auction as they’d jogged through the rain to the depot to collect the day’s vegetables.
"Nothin’ can go wrong, see? Got an important client coming tomorrow. The Landlord of Battery. Go check on the men at the station in the morning and get them cleaned up as best you can. That woman given you any trouble?"
Hap shook his head.
"Well, I can’t take any chances. Once you’ve cleaned up the men the officer will bring ‘em to the docks. Then start packing today’s loads in the front room so’s you can watch for the flag to go up."
Here Rank stopped at the top of the road and turned around. The road was steep and below it were the harbour and the pier. Rank pointed to his left.
"See that flagpole?"
Hap nodded.
"When you see the green flag go up, you come running, see?"
"Okay. ... Battery," he said. "Is that north?"
Rank shook his head. "West."
It was still raining when Hap finally returned from his last load of the day, too tired from pushing the cart through the muck-filled streets to eat supper but eager to see if the woman was awake. Rank had already gone to bed. Hap went down to the cellar but near the bottom of the steps he could see that she was, as she had that morning, turned to the wall with the blanket over her head. He sighed. Maybe he’d have a chance tomorrow morning before the auction. Maybe he'd waited too long.
Hap took off his wet clothes and was about to crawl into bed when he saw something on his pillow. He lit a candle. It was a photograph, printed on thick paper, of the fox-faced woman. She was older than in his memory but it was her. She stood in sunlight wearing a checked dress and holding the hand of a little girl with copper-coloured hair. He sat down heavily on his cot and stared at the photo.
"The little girl is me," she said.
"What’s your name?" Hap asked.
"Marvellous."
"That's a great name," said Hap.
"The woman in the photo is my mother. Well, our mother. I wasn't sure at first. She told me about you. How she'd had to leave you with your father because she was sick. She got better but then she had me. She died when I was thirteen. I got sent to a labour camp."
I don't understand any of this, Hap thought. He took a chance.
"I can't remember anything about my life before I came here a few months ago."
Marvellous was silent for a moment, looking intently at him.
"Then maybe I can help fill in some blanks. I know it's you. You have the knife."
Hap’s hand automatically went to his pocket and pulled out his folding knife.
"How...?"
Marvellous stood up and drew her fingers lightly against the wire cage.
"This doesn't stop me," she said. "I checked your pockets last night after you fell asleep."
Rank had hinted that the woman might be defective and Hap was half expecting her to wave a hand and the door to suddenly open of its own accord. Instead she pulled a pin from inside her shirt, jiggled it twice in the padlock then opened it. She crossed the floor and sat beside Hap on the bed. She took the knife from his hands.
"Mama said she gave it to you when you were four. She said you'd engraved a four-leaf clover into the handle. See?"
Marvellous turned the knife over and handed it to Hap.
"Is that what that is?"
"You don't remember what clover looks like?"
"I guess not. Did my, our mother, tell you my name?"
"Well, that's a bit strange considering you say you can't remember anything. She said it was Hap. Said she named you after the road your father took out of town. When Rank mentioned it, I wondered if it could be you. You may not remember much, but you got your name right."
"It was the only name I could think of," said Hap.
"Names are powerful things."
Hap looked at his knife, ran his fingers over the engraving.
"I can't let you go tomorrow," he said suddenly, standing up. "I have to get you out tonight."
Marvellous grabbed his arm and pulled him back down to the bed.
"No. Too dangerous. Has Rank told you anything about the auction?"
Hap told her what he knew.
"This Landlord, he's our buyer. He’s rich and since the rich are all bastards it’s easy to give them what they want. Leave him to me."
Marvellous told Hap what to do to prepare in the morning.
"Now, you need to go to sleep," Marvellous said.
"There's so much
I want to ask."
She got up, crossed the floor, and locked herself back into the storage cage.
"When we get to where we're going," she said, "there'll be enough time."
___
The Landlord arrived in Andrastyne at supper time the night before the auction. He left his horses at the Andrastyne Inn, gorged himself on a steak dinner then spent the evening in the company of a young woman at Mrs. Nibbs’. He left the brothel at dawn and returned to his room at the inn to wash up. He was the first to arrive for the auction.
Now, he stood on the pier in the rain looking over the goods. Skilled labour was always in short supply and many of the landowners relied on the quarterly auctions to staff their lands. Men were brought in from all over for sale. Some, like the four men Gaines had brought, had sold their freedom for a chance at a job, regular meals and a roof over their heads; many were former labour camp kids who had run away and were easily threatened into service; others were free labourers and they had a certain amount of rights. The Landlord didn't want to use free labourers if he could avoid it.
The Landlord walked up and down the line of manacled men, peering into their eyes, squeezing their biceps and checking their feet. He needed the right person for the orchard; someone strong and healthy, yes, but also someone who would do as they were told.
The last person in line was a woman. Unlike the men, she was not shackled, only tethered with a leather strap by one hand to a railing. She was tall and her skin was the same light coppery colour as her short-cropped hair. The Landlord stopped and looked down at her. He narrowed his eyes. A woman would be easier to control, he thought. The last one was easy enough and this one was better looking. He smiled.
"Used to hard work?" he asked her.
"Yes," she said.
"Where?"
"I've been in labour camps most of my life."
"Uh huh. Know anything