1 July 1622
Simonn and I plan to leave in August this time to travel home, which is nice because I won't miss my love's birthday again. Simonn remembering his means that I'll remember my love's. I might forget my own, but that's alright. Simonn told me he's pretty sure I survive whatever is going to happen, so it won't be my last birthday.
Although…it might be my last birthday with my family.
We can't go any other time, but I'm sure we have more than a year. We'll have more birthdays, we all will. I'm sure of it.
3 July 1622
I told Sigmun that Simonn and I are planning to head home again and he got that worried look on his face like he does, and he told me to write every day and take care of myself, for heaven's sake. He still doesn't know about my breadknife. Maybe I'll tell him someday, buy he's so compassionate that he would never agree with me.
I asked him about that, yesterday night. "How do you have so much patience?"
"What do you mean, patience?"
"I would go out of my mind trying to bring people around to our way of thinking! Have you heard some of the things they say?"
"Of course I have," he said. "I guess…I don't know. I feel like they can be better if only they knew. If I just have patience and show them how it is from my perspective, they'll see."
"Some of them don't change their minds. Lots of them."
"No one is irredeemable."
"What about that guard?" I don't know why I brought it up-normally I would never.
He paused for a moment and thought. "What he did is unforgivable, except by you. And I don't think you should forgive him-but, you know, it's not up to me. You know, I don't know. I don't want to think anyone is really bad, but I'm not sure."
I nodded. I don't forgive that guard. I think I might hate him.
"People who hurt people might deserve another chance," he said finally, because I was still mulling things over. "But I think it depends."
"On what?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't imagine I know any better than you or the rest of our family, or anyone else, really."
"Hm," I said. "I mean, I'd love to believe everyone is good, but…there are some people."
"I know," he said. "I mean, it's a big debate with no easy answers."
"Of course it is," I agreed. "What say we get some rest-we have a big day tomorrow."
"We have a big day every day."
"Fair enough, my love."
And so we went to bed. I'm glad we talked, but I still won't tell him about my breadknife. I think it would only serve to make him more nervous, and he is quite nervous enough.
6 July 1622
We leave this town in two days. It never feels like enough time. It's never enough time to teach people everything I know about reading and writing and hunting. I'm not a remarkable teacher, but I'm lucky to know what I know and I certainly think everyone should have the same chance to know how to read and write. And hunting is a survival skill, I suppose.
8 July 1622
We leave tomorrow. I said goodbye to Allison and Helen last night after dinner, and left them with those cards I make with objects and words on them. I hope they can keep learning to read and write. I really do think it matters. Reading is power in this world, I think.
10 July 1622
Simonn and I are going to leave on July twenty-third, because that's our next travel day after this town. Sigmun tried to get us to take the letter Candas sent, but I don't think we'll need it. As angry as I am, and as much trouble as I'm sure the government perceives that I cause, he's the real upstart-making speeches and being kind and all. If the guards remember us, they won't give us trouble, and if it's new guards, they might not notice two, especially if townspeople know us.
13 July 1622
I met a woman named Barbara today because she brought her little son to writing lessons. He's only seven, but the younger the better for learning to write (to a point). Her son Tobie looked so much like my little Luke that it ached, but I didn't say anything. I don't generally bring Luke up unprompted, anyways, because I know it's been years but it still hurts to talk about. I don't suppose it will ever stop hurting. For heaven's sake, I still feel the sting of some of my mother's insults.
These things may take time, but I'm not sure eternity is enough time.
14 July 1622
It's my love's birthday today. We're not really doing anything, but I wanted to remember it. I want there to be something happy in our lives before whatever is in Simonn's dreams comes to pass.
Dolora's making baked apples over the fire. I didn't notice, and I don't think Simonn did either, but she made the stew he likes with potatoes and onions on his birthday. I'll be gone for mine, but I can make myself something.
I also thought about going to the woods tonight. I hope he wants to; wanting him more often than he wants me can be an imperfect situation.
16 July 1622
If we travel fast and stop only half a day in each town, it should take us a month to get home. Our route winds back and forth across the country, to be sure, so if Simonn and I take the most direct route home we'll get there in a month. If we didn't stop at all and went as the crow flies, I think it would only take a week or two. But we do need to make stops, so we can make sure people remember us.
We'll be spending at least a couple weeks at home, plenty of time to visit with everyone we've been missing. And to visit the graveyard a few times. And the clearing in the woods, of course.
I miss Luke. I don't think I'll ever stop.
19 July 1622
More teaching, as usual. I can't tell if my backache is from sleeping on the ground, stress, my bleeding, or the usual aches and pains from the melancholy. I'm generally just sore all the time, but I never know from what. I'll just take Dolora's pain medicine and hope for the best.
21 July 1622
Simonn and I leave for home in a two days. Sigmun's been fretting over us, being more affectionate than usual and trying to make us pack more food and all that. He's sweet. I know it's just because he worries about us, because he loves us, but I wish he wouldn't worry like that. It makes me worry!
Lessons have been going well. Most people it seems are quite happy learning new things. I'm always happy when the people I meet teach me something new.
23 July 1622
We parted ways today. Sigmun and Dolora kept going north while Simonn and I went back south to our town. I mostly remember the way, but either way we have a map so we can't get that lost. Or so I hope.
I hope we don't have any trouble pretending to be cousins. Simonn and I agreed that my mother and his father are siblings, so there shouldn't be trouble there, but people might think it's odd.
They can think that. We are odd and I don't really care.
25 July 1622
It is a very good thing I write down the names of people I meet in towns in my book, because I would never remember otherwise. We've been to dozens of towns-I'm not even sure how many anymore-and I hardly remember my own name sometimes for all the ones I've learned.
I can't wait to see Gillian and Eliza again, and Florence. I really liked them. I think Eliza might be one of the only children I've met who I know enough about that she doesn't remind me of Luke every time I look at her.
28 July 1622
Traveling in the heat might just kill me I think. I end every day drenched with sweat and so thirsty my throat aches. Simonn looks worse than I do. Luckily, since people know us, they don't think us insane wanderers. I wish we could go swimming, but no one would think it "appropriate" for cousins.
But it's harvest, and people are feeling generous, so we've gotten enough offers of places to sleep and food to eat and water to drink. We'll get by.
30 July 1622
Sigmun sent a letter today telling me all about this woman he met who spoke French and Russian who he thought I would love to meet. Her name is Janet and apparently she loves languages like me. He was so excited for me-it was adorable. He said he was going to include some things she wanted to say to me and I could write back.
She seems like a wonderful woman. Maybe we can be friends.
2 August 1622
More towns as usual. It's like we're flying through them. We're getting closer to home with every step, and I can feel it. I want to be home right now. I love Sigmun and Dolora to death, and I want to be with them most of the time, but something right now is drawing me home. My bed is going to feel empty and heaven knows I'll miss my family, and my love in more ways than one, but it's going to be familiar and warm and comfortable.
5 August 1622
I think we're getting close to the village where we left Gillian and Eliza. I hope Gillian's doing better. She seemed so tired when we left, but ready to move on. As it is, today we stopped in another village today and talked with our old friends there. As usual.
8 August 1622
I talked with Rita again today whose husband died in a farm accident. Her little one was born, a daughter named Carolyn. She was cute as a button, just a month old. Rita seemed a bit better off, and she mentioned looking for work as a farmhand. Not many are willing to hire a woman, but she is friends with someone in town who might. I'm glad for her.
12 August 1622
Today we reached the town Em lives in. Em's the one who heard about us before we reached her village. She's quite brilliant, and I'm always glad to talk with her.
Simonn's been talking with people too. I think it makes him happy like it makes me happy, to see people we've talked to for the better. It makes him happy to see happiness in others; it makes me to see happiness in others.
14 August 1622
We reached Gillian's town today, and we stayed with her and Eliza. Gillian's been working as a seamstress and a laundress, so she's gotten a little cottage for herself and just enough land for a nice garden. Eliza remembered me and was quite excited to show me around her home and garden. She's such a sweet child.
Gillian is doing better. She confessed over tea that she still has nightmares, so I told her I do too. It seemed to help. I mean, it helps me to know I'm not alone in having this awful fear.
I wish we could stay longer, but it's just tonight.
17 August 1622
We're so close to home. Six more days of travel and we'll be back in our hometown. Today we were in Maude's town, a woman from the town with the man who thought I was so wildly different from other women. She let us in and fed us, so all is well on that front. Whenever we stop, I worry people won't still like our ideas, that they'll make us leave their towns and sleep in the woods. But that doesn't seem to happen. Maybe people do like what we have to say.
19 August 1622
We saw Florence today, from back when we were first traveling. She wasn't so pale, or ill-looking. We had tea and she told me in a quiet voice that she was considering becoming a nun. I told her that it sounded like a fine idea, and she said she never wanted to be married so it seemed like a good option.
If it weren't for Sigmun, I might want to be a nun. I'm not sure there's another man like him in the world-a man so kind and caring and genuine, a man who cares so much about my comfort and safety, a man who wants to talk to me.
22 August 1622
Today is my birthday. I'm twenty-seven now. I'm not really old, but I'm not so young anymore. I should have at least three children by now, by all rights. I should be raising them at home while my husband works, and he should have a steady job.
These are things I should be and do, but aren't and don't. And another thing I don't do: regret that I do not and am not these things I ought to be.
24 August 1622
We're home. Tonight I'm going to sleep in my own bed at home, and eat from Dolora's garden, and cook on our stove. I know I'm going to feel odd sleeping in my bed without my husband, but I'm going to be okay.
If all else fails, I have my old cat.
27 August 1622
Simonn and I visited his daughter today. She's an adorable little girl, not really old enough to be talking clearly but old enough to manage a few words. She called him Uncle Simonn and I saw that it hurt him to not be her father, but there isn't anything we can do right now. When she's older they'll explain it to her-when she's old enough to keep a secret.
I mean, no one can know.
29 August 1622
Today…Simonn walked with me to the clearing where Luke is…is buried. I brought flowers for me and for Sigmun, and Simonn just sat with me while we both cried.
It's never going to stop hurting. Never.
31 August 1622
Candas sent a letter today saying she wanted to meet with us in town so we could talk about plans, perhaps with a local noble we might be able to convince to be on our side. It looks like she might not be so bad after all. She's really trying to help us, I think. Maybe she does want better for her people. Maybe Sigmun's right after all.