Later
on that night as I was closing the shutters in the kitchen, I heard a
familiar voice calling me outside. As I expected, I found Paul
leaning against the house, his limbs looking even longer in the
moonlight.
"What is it?" I tried hard to keep the exasperation from my
voice. There were too many things going on here that I was unused to,
and I just wanted to go to the quiet of my bed. Hopefully Della would
be asleep.
"Well, I told you about this great deal on cakes a while back, but
you didn't listen to me. So, I've come to take you there by
force."
"I thought that was a secret you were telling me."
"Consider it now out in the open." He grabbed my hand and led me
toward the baker's.
"Wait! It's nighttime. Everyone will be worried if I wander
off." I was stalling, even though I was curious.
"They won't even notice-they're already sleeping. Besides,
Dina," he aid grinning beguilingly, "I know you're dying to
come. You're bored to tears."
"Fine, but not the baker's. Maybe someplace else?" He took in
the expression on my face and merely shrugged, for which I was
grateful.
"If you want. Do you have any objection to fresh fruit?"
"Not if it's legally obtained," I said pointedly, still unsure
of his character. As we walked toward wherever, I noticed that Paul
still hadn't let go of my hand. He seemed nonchalant, but my cheeks
warmed. Soon, however, I was too busy laughing at Paul's stories to
notice it myself. And he was truly funny, despite all of his
oddities. I wondered if anyone else in the family recognized this.
Probably not, I realized. Around them, even Della, Paul acted
sarcastic more than anything.
"For you," Paul said, handing me an apple. He finally let go my
hand so he could munch his own apple while simultaneously picking
more from a tree.
"And this doesn't belong to anyone?"
"It does- don't get upset Little Dina- it's mine. I take a
room over there. He pointed to what looked to be a boarding house.
The lawn immediately surrounding it looked dead in the moonlight.
"What happened to the grass-"
"Would you look at that moon?" He interrupted me a little too
brightly. "The festival's almost here."
I shrugged, figuring that was a story for another time. I opened my
mouth to ask how he made his living-farming seemed a little out of
the question, considering- when he thrust two more fruit at me.
"Here," he said grinning mischievously. "You can stuff these
down your dress"- while I might be considered more attractive than
Della, she had one thing I had little of: breasts. I pelted the
apples at Paul while I considered worse punishments. "-to save for
later!" Paul managed to get out through a face full of apple.
"Yeah right," I muttered, but I wasn't really upset. I hadn't
found him as offensive as I probably should have. It was just too
hard to remain serious around Paul, even for me.
"You know," he said, wiping flecks of fruit off of his face, "I
think I've had enough apples for tonight."
"Della's sweetheart lives here, too," Paul said as we made our
way back home. I grunted noncommittally. Part of being a safe-keeper
was ensuring that I in no way let someone's secret out. "Cohr.
Ah, I bet you can't say anything, can you? You know, that gives it
away just as well as if you'd shouted it in my ear." I scowled;
he was right. I'd have to figure out a way to prevent that in the
future. Meanwhile, there was something that had been bothering me.
"You and Cohr don't seem to get along; why is that?"
"You noticed, did you?" Paul grinned. "I don't let him
borrow my hats, so he's jealous. Does that sound plausible?"
"Hardly," I snorted. Paul laughed aloud, but he didn't say
anything else on the subject. I wanted to ask Paul why he didn't
get along with Sammy and everyone else, but I was afraid I'd get
more of the same. I guess I wasn't the only person who kept
secrets.
We
walked the rest of the way to Sammy's in silence. Paul had grabbed
my hand again, and I was too busy focusing on that to come up with
conversation. Paul seemed lost in thought as well.
"You know, Dina," he said softly, reaching up to brush my hair
from my face. I stood completely still, too nervous to move. "You
have a twig in your hair," he said, pulling it out and showing it
to me.
"Stupid," I muttered, pushing him.
He chuckled softly. "Good night, little Dina." He leaned down to
kiss me on the cheek, and then walked away.
I stayed outside for a while, trying to order my thoughts. When I
finally went in, I found Della waiting for me in our room. She looked
serious.
"They were wondering where you were. I told them you went outside
for some fresh air."
"Thanks."
Della looked at me sternly. "It wasn't for your sake, Dina. I
didn't want to upset Sammy by mentioning Paul. I know he's
charming, but it isn't a good idea for you to spend so much time
with Paul. He's not a good person to become interested in."
I laughed nervously. "Who's interested? I was just a little
bored-"
"Well then maybe you should spend more time with the rest of
your family," Della said shortly. This was the closest to mad I'd
ever seen her. "I thought that was why you came to visit." She
went to bed and I was left pondering over what she'd said.
The next afternoon I was in the shop, poorly attempting to hem a skirt. Sammy had already reprimanded me earlier for going outside alone at night. I didn't contradict him. I doubted he'd be any more favorable to the idea of me being with Paul.
"Dina?" My mother interrupted me as I contemplated the ruin of my skirt. "There's someone here who requires your services."
"You should ask Della. I'm no good at sewing. Look at this!" I held my skirt up for her inspection.
"He requires your services as safe-keeper," my mother said slowly, as though I weren't very bright. I suppose it was true though. I wasn't exactly at my best; my mind was preoccupied with other things.
"Of course," I said jumping up, dread growing in my stomach. I'd forgotten about the sign that Sammy had put up, and I suppose I'd been hoping the rest of Merendon would forget as well. "Where should I take him?"
"Sammy set up an area behind the house. We don't have any kirrenberry trees, but it will have to do for now."
When I went to the designated area, far off from the house, but open to ensure no eavesdroppers, a short, bald man was waiting. The only hairs on his entire head were his thick, red eyebrows, which he kept reaching up to twiddle with. He seemed nervous. Most people who saw safe-keepers were.
"I've got to tell someone!" He burst out suddenly. "I'm a baker. I love my job, but there are some customers-like your mother- who drive me insane. So I-I've got to do it, otherwise I wouldn't be able to stand it-I spit in their food! I sell buns that I dropped on the floor. I cheat customers out of their change." He said all of this in a rush. "I-" He looked at me suspiciously. "You are the safe-keeper, right?"
"I am," I assured him, trying to maintain a calm expression, though inside I was cringing in disgust. I managed to not explode at the man while he finished recounting his secrets. By the time he left, he'd nearly pulled all of his eyebrows off in his anxiety, but he looked happier. He was eager, no doubt, to hurry back to work and spit in someone else's food.
That night at dinner when Della tried to pass me the plate of buns she'd just bought, I purposefully let it slip past my fingers, sending the bread sliding to the floor. Mother scolded me for ruining good food, but I was busy trying to come up with a way to avoid the baker's goods without giving away his secret.
"Hurry up!" My mother told me. "We need bread for the stew. You might still be able to catch the baker before he closes."
I reluctantly made my way outside and toward the baker's. With any luck, he would have already left to eat his own evening meal.
"Hey," a voice interrupted me. I spun around eagerly, hoping it was Paul. Instead I saw Della's sweetheart, Cohr. He really is quite handsome, I acknowledged to myself. His bright green eyes stood in sharp contrast to his dark hair. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up so I could see the muscles in his arms.
"Dina, isn't it?" I nodded. I would accept any excuse to stall my current errand. "Della spoke of you often, but I never would have learned from Paul that he had another sister."
"Only by marriage," I said awkwardly. An angry glint had come into Cohr's eyes when he said Paul's name, and I wondered again what had happened between them. "We never actually met until this summer."
"Of course," Cohr said. He smiled, something he didn't seem to do often. "Are you busy now?"
"Sort of," I said, unsure of his intention.
"That's too bad." Cohr said farewell, and I went on my way again, wondering over this odd exchange.
