CHAPTER FIVE
Final chores of the day done, I still have two hours to kill before it's time to head to the beach. This is my first opportunity to return since my birthday and so much has happened in-between. I'd set off now, but the optimum time for today's tide and therefore less strenuous pot retrieval is mid-afternoon. If Edward is there waiting for me, I guess he'll presume I'd get there early to see him. I'm not ready to proffer that message just yet.
All morning my stomach has been in knots at the thought of seeing Edward again. Curiosity about why he's revealed himself to me is one reason. Asking the hundred and one questions already cataloged in my head is another. If I'm being honest, the prime reason is I'm attracted to him. To be really honest though, those reasons don't matter. Curiosity about him wins over everything.
There are so many questions I'm desperate to ask Edward. Which one to start with changes every time I think about our next meeting. 'What happened to my gran?' Is that too confrontational for an opener? Sam's accident would also be a difficult subject to broach without the words sounding like an accusation. A sensible line would be to allow Edward to lead the conversation and follow where it goes.
While I've been tidying and sweeping out the barn for the last hour, delicious aromas have wafted across the yard sending my already knotted stomach into a complete frenzy. Charlie's constant gripes about Mom's housekeeping - her laundry and cleaning skills for instance - do not extend to the kitchen. Monday is Baking Day - the best day in the Swan household. Charlie never has cause to complain about the culinary delights that emerge from Mom's ancient wood-burning range. Monday is the only night he ensures he's home early for dinner. That goes for me too.
Coveralls off, hands washed, I sidle into a conveniently deserted kitchen to check whether there's anything stealable to take to my hill. Meat pies and pasties, fruit tarts, and … yes, rolls of spicy sausage meat wrapped in mouth-watering flaky pastry. My hand hovers over the baking tray where about twenty of these delights are cooling. Salivating in anticipation, I quickly look around for a cloth. Mom's spare apron will have to do. Three fiery treasures concealed I creep outside to where my hillside refuge beckons. There I can continue to ponder over Gran's message but this time in peace. No doubt I'll be accompanied by Jupiter who with luck will be blamed for the theft.
The letter now resides under a loose tile on my window ledge and hasn't left my thoughts for a moment. I have zero doubts that Gran wrote those words from beyond the Wastelands, which I now believe is where the Catcher took her eleven years ago. Why though? What possible reason would a Catcher have to snatch an old woman from her bed in the dead of night? What had Gran done to deserve being dragged from her home in her twilight years leaving a grieving family behind, or was she taken randomly which is what the Elders claim happens? These are the questions I'm desperate to ask Edward, but not yet. Trust on both sides will need to be nurtured first.
My second favorite spot on the hill overlooks most of our small but adequate farm. Adjoining our eastern boundary lies a small portion of Samuel Ulley's much larger livestock farm which stretches as far as the forest. In the distance, any building situated on the west side of Forks which is not concealed by the encroaching forest, stands out as a dark blot against the verdant landscape. Many times from up here I've reflected on how small my life is. Almost all I know of this world is laid out before me. The people, the buildings, my friends, and my extended family, are all contained within this small area. Am I stupid or just naïve to be hanging onto the hope that one day there'll be more to my life than this tiny community?
The air up here feels soft on my exposed skin. By this late in the summer my arms and face have a healthy glow which unfortunately doesn't last very long. By the end of October, my chronic paleness will return and stay with me for at least nine months. The flesh of baked cod has more color than Isabella Swan. Today could be the last warm day of summer, so I lie back in the sweet-smelling grass for what may be my final soak in sunlight.
Before breakfast, I overheard Charlie telling Mom that Sam had not yet regained full consciousness. He said there was even talk going around that he never would. Charlie's tone when he spoke of Sam intrigued me. He'd never had much to do with Sam or his father other than polite hello's or brief discussions about their shared boundary, but it was as if Sam's precarious future had become a personal blow to him. Charlie has many good qualities but he is not particularly empathetic, which is what surprised me most about his concern.
A new thought about Sam comes to me. Sitting up again, I look down at both farms. The reason for Charlie's concern comes to me like a punch to the gut. I'm furious now that I hadn't suspected Charlie's motives on my birthday or even since then.
Charlie, no doubt with Samuel's blessing, had encouraged Sam to follow me to the beach and it's so flaming obvious why now. Both fathers had conspired to secure a marriage between me and Sam, not just because they felt we were suitable partners for their offspring, but more importantly to ensure these farms would eventually become one. I'm an only child. Sam's an only son; the perfect business match, even though neither family owns the land.
I should have predicted this because according to the Elders' rules, when Charlie and Mom die our farm will be passed to another family after a complicated bidding process. I won't get a look in because of the obligation for married women to be included as part of the husband's family. So my joining the Ulley family could enhance their bid to take our farm over. Samuel Ulley's rejection of Emily as a suitable wife for Sam carries even more weight now. The Youngs have never been allocated or even wanted a plot of farming land; they earn their extra credits through their talents as weavers and potters where they are arguably the best in Lympi.
I should be angry with Charlie, but being honest with myself, I know he wants me to be happy. Being close to Mom would make me happy. Our farm effectively staying in the family would make me happy too, so I understand the logic behind his subterfuge. Also, despite everything, I'm confident Charlie would never force me to marry a man who repelled me.
Why did he give Jake Black the nod to approach me at the party then? Had he already written off Sam because of his injuries? That seems harshly premature unless he already believes that Sam will be disabled for the rest of his life. Jake's extended family have a good business at the Timber Yard, and as carpenters and house builders, so Charlie must have had Jake in mind as a backup candidate. I guess I'll have to expect this from now on, but I wish Charlie wouldn't be such a blatant matchmaker.
Jupiter has patiently waited for his share of the booty. Cool enough to consume now, the smallest sausage roll becomes airborne and disappears in one gulp. With zero guilt, I omit to own up to stealing three. I worked hard this morning while Jupiter slept like a baby.
On my way to the beach, more evidence that my brain has not been functioning correctly since meeting Edward becomes plain. I'd forgotten to ask Charlie whether he or anyone else could repair the hitching post before my next visit. I'd made such a big deal of snapping it in half at my birthday party that I'm surprised he didn't remember, but then Charlie was already worse for wear by the time I got home. If Star takes fright when Edward turns up, there'll be nothing to restrain her unless I somehow tie her to the wheel mechanism. I can't not go. Some of the catch will already have been in the pots for days which is cruel. There's no other option but to clear them out today. If Edward is there, maybe I could hold onto Star while he hauls the catch in, especially if I ask nicely.
A thin layer of cloud has rolled down from the north during the journey meaning I won't have to stare into the sun if he's out at sea again. Star knows her way to the beach without the need for guidance which is fortunate. My attention is everywhere else but the road.
Once the full sweep of our glorious bay comes into view, the gently rolling waves get methodically searched starting from the Owl Rock on the right to where the seals are lounging on the left. After a long inspection from my lofty seat, there is nothing out there to excite me. I hold back my disappointment until I've had a chance to look again. He's not there. I'm devastated.
Just as Star's feet touch the sand, a dark object appears on the left side of the bay about twenty yards from the shoreline. My heart quickens but only for a few seconds. Sadly, a seal making its way to the rocks has piqued my excitement. I have to conclude that nothing and no one is out there that shouldn't be. Confirmation that we are alone is Star's indifference to being on the beach. She has a good memory so hopes of another meeting are dashed. My disappointment is gut-wrenching.
We trundle over to the wheel where Star pulls up by the smashed hitching post. While I'm deciding how to secure her and the cart, I notice that further back from the wheel, a new post made from what at first glance looks like polished mahogany, which is a plentiful but expensive wood in this area, is poking out of the sand. The original metal ring, now without built-up layers of salt dulling its sheen, glistens brightly even in the dull light.
There's no puzzlement here. I know who's responsible. I can't help but smile at the thought of Edward coming back to fix this. So Catchers are carpenters too – I wonder what other skills he possesses. My imagination wanders to a skill I've only heard about and imagined. Even without a mirror, I know I'm blushing.
Before jumping down, a final look from the cart confirms there's still nothing and no one on land or sea to warrant my attention. I can only presume that Edward has decided to stay away, maybe until the fuss about Sam has died down, or maybe even forever.
After pulling on thick gloves that protect my hands from becoming calloused and from being pinched by the crabs, I get started. The first heave forward on the handle sends me headlong into the sand. Now I'm grateful that I'm alone. The embarrassment would be too much to bear. Instead of strong resistance, the wheel moved with hardly any effort which only happens when the pots are empty. A further disappointment and a wasted journey no doubt. Whatever next?
I dust sand off my clothes and try again. Resigned that today will result in an unsuccessful catch I'm sad that Mom will have to wait a few weeks longer for her coat material if Edward has given up helping me. When the first pot appears though, it's stuffed full of crabs and even a couple of lobsters which are extremely rare this far north. While I'm turning the wheel to move the pot closer I feel the air move around me.
"Do you want help with that?"
I scream in fright, but not loudly. More like a strangled eeeek. From nowhere, Edward has crept up behind me to whisper in my ear, just like he did in my room.
"Jeepers, you could've given me a heart attack, Edward. Don't do that again. You've probably taken years off my life and you could've frightened Star again."
Edward smiles broadly and moves to stand in front of me. "I'll do that if you like?"
"Okay, you can," I reply without hesitation and step aside. "The wheel seems to be running easier than usual. Have you been fiddling with that as well as fixing my post?"
Edward laughs and takes the wheel.
"Yes, but you mustn't say anything to anyone. This wheel is well over a hundred years old, Bella. When I looked at what you have out at sea, the posts and wheels are probably the same age too, and they were badly positioned and poorly maintained. I'm amazed they've worked for so long. While you were partying this weekend, my brother and I replaced some of the posts and most of the mechanisms with ones made from aluminum. The whole system should run a lot easier now."
"Your your brother … and what's alu .. alu …?"
"Aluminium is a specialist metal that's not damaged by seawater, and yes, I have a brother, and a sister too."
"And a Mom and Dad?"
"Sort of … I'm adopted, so are the others. It's a long story which I'll explain another day."
"So where … ?"
"No more questions for now, Bella. Let's get the catch in and then we can talk, but not for long today. It's my sister's birthday. I need to get back or I'll be in big trouble."
I can't help but laugh out loud. The thought of an allegedly deadly murderer being admonished for turning up late to a party is so outlandish I can't take him seriously.
Edward wraps his slim fingers around the handle. His hands and arms, absent of marks or callouses, are compelling evidence that he's probably never done a day's hard labor. There isn't a boy or girl in Forks with hands like his, especially at this time of year. Everybody helps to bring in the harvest and plant the winter crops and other essential manual duties of one sort or another, unless you are under ten, over seventy, or pregnant. My hands look like Mom's compared to his.
Until Edward walked out of the sea, my mental image of a Catcher had been an uneducated, misshapen, feral creature with sticking-out bones, long fingers, sharp teeth, and lank hair, and always male. Another question to add to an ever-growing list – is Edward's sister also a Catcher?
Edward turns the handle so easily I suspect he could do it with his little finger. While I empty the pots, I try to observe him without staring. He's wearing a pale blue shirt today but sadly not peeling sunlight. His previously golden irises are now a warm shade of brown, almost the same color as mine. One characteristic that confirms Edward is, or maybe was, my nighttime visitor – no warmth seems to exude from his body.
When the last pot is empty and on its way back to the sea, I ask Edward to explain another puzzle. Why isn't Star freaking out this time (that word again)?
Edward reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handful of white cubes. Star has seen these before as her head bobs up and down with excitement.
"What are those?"
"Compacted sugar, and the reason why I traveled by land today rather than swim. While you were at the party, I visited Star in her stable to apologize for frightening her. Several sugar cubes later, she accepted my apology graciously. I made friends with your father's horse the same way.
Edward smiles with his eyes. My heart reacts. I'm sure I'm blushing again. Edward looks away while he strokes Star's mane while he's feeding her the sugar. I wish he would stroke my hair as tenderly. Concentrate, Bella. Questions, remember?
"Does that mean you live close by?"
Edward shakes his head and looks inland, I could say almost wistfully.
"Not anymore, Bella. My family lived very close to Forks many years ago, before … before the world changed and then afterward when the water receded."
"So your family lives in a community like ours now, but not in Lympi?"
"Something like that, but it's not a community you would understand. Sorry, what I mean is … you're not ready to understand yet but please don't take that the wrong way. I'm not questioning your intelligence at all. I can tell you though that traveling long distances isn't a problem for me."
I don't hesitate with my next question.
"Does that mean you have a cart that doesn't need a horse then?"
Edward's eyes widen. There's no doubt I've surprised him.
"How do you know about carts without horses, Bella?"
Panic – I can't drop Mike in it but I'll have to be sort of truthful.
"From a book about the Old World, Edward. A friend of mine saw lifelike pictures of horseless carts, tall buildings, and people with very dark skin, and described them to me. I didn't know whether to believe him but you've just confirmed there were such things as horseless carts."
Edward pats Star on the neck and picks up the closest crab basket with ease. Hesitation means he's deciding how much to disclose. Maybe his community has rules about telling tales about the Old World as we have. When the second basket is on the cart, he looks at me. His eyes have narrowed. He's not angry – he looks concerned more than anything else.
"Bella, your friend described what he saw correctly. Before the world changed there were many different types of horseless carts, tall buildings, and people with very dark skin. So what else did you learn from the book?"
"Nothing, Edward. Mi ... my friend couldn't read the words. The letters were all jumbled up he said."
"Where is the book now?"
"His father handed it to the Elders. I'm talking … seven years ago now. Look, Edward, all of us have heard rumors about people who could fly and dive under the oceans. We understand and accept that the Old World was advanced compared to how we live now. What we don't know for certain is which stories are true."
Edward walks over to the post where he unhitches Star. By this action, I have to imply he has to go, or maybe I've pushed him too far. If so, I'll be kicking myself on the way back to the farm.
"I have to get going, Bella. I'm already late for my sister's party. I know you've got a thousand questions you want to ask me, but today's not the day. If I was to tell you about the Old World, we could talk for weeks and you would still only know a fraction of its history. One day we will talk, but I'll decide when that day is. Can you be content with that?"
I'm just about to say yes when Edward jumps onto the cart in a movement so fast I feel the air shift like before. Star ignores him this time and carries on licking her teeth after her sugary treat. She must have accepted by now that Edward is weird. A finger covers Edward's lips; again the signal for me to be quiet. Star remains unperturbed which means she hasn't picked up there could be someone or something close by, but I still hold on to her harness now that Edward has untethered her. I just hope Star's calmness will somehow transfer to me.
After about thirty seconds Edward makes a huff sound as he jumps down. "It's nothing; just a fox after a rabbit. I thought …"
"You thought someone was watching us again," I say without hesitating.
"Bella, I …"
"Edward, I guessed it was you that attacked Sam. He wouldn't have kept his mouth shut after he saw us. It would've been all over Forks that …"
Edward interrupts me. His voice has changed from light-hearted to deadly serious.
"No, Bella. Sam didn't see me, or you."
"Then why … why did you do that to him?"
Edward takes a step towards me and places his hand on my shoulder. This is the first time he's touched me. I'm almost back at the farm when I recall how cold his hand was through my thin shirt. His earnest reply though sucks the air from my lungs. Breathing normally is all I can concentrate on after he says ...
"What I did to Sam, Bella, was only a fraction of what he planned to do to you. I didn't want to tell you but now I have, I need you to believe that I'm telling you the truth."
Oh heck, he can't leave her hanging like that and go off to a party. (He doesn't). More Edward in the next chapter. Sorry to leave you guys hanging. (Evil laugh).
See you on Friday,
Joan x
