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“No. No, I won’t let him do that.” She sounded very sure.
He relaxed a little. “Why do we have to go?”
“We don’t have to. I would like to.”
“Oh.” He sat in silence for almost half a mile.
“Will he tell us about heaven?” he asked finally.
“I expect so,” Hester answered. Now she was looking at him, smiling.
He felt encouraged. “Where is heaven?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I don’t think anybody truly does.”
That troubled him. “Then how are we going to get there?”
She looked awkward. “You know, that’s something we’d all like to know, and I have no idea. Perhaps if we go to church often enough and really pay attention, we will figure it out eventually.”
“Do you want to go there? To heaven, I mean?”
“Yes. I think everybody does. It’s just that too many of us don’t desire it enough to do the things that are necessary to get there.”
“Why not? That seems silly,” he pointed out.
“We don’t think about it, or believe in it, hard enough,” she answered. “Sometimes we decide it’s too hard to get there to be worth the trouble, or that we won’t make it anyway, no matter what we do.”
He thought about it for several minutes while the omnibus went up a slight incline, slowing as it did so. The horses must have struggled a bit.
“Well, if you’re not going to heaven, then I don’t think I want to either,” he said at last.
She blinked suddenly, as if she were going to cry, only he knew she wouldn’t because Heste
r never cried. Then she put her hand on his arm for a moment. He could feel the warmth of it, even through the sleeve of his new jacket.
“I think we should both try to get there,” she told him. “In fact, all three of us should.”
He thought about that and made a note of several other questions he wanted to ask. He would save them for another time-he felt like he had bothered her enough for now. So they rode in silence until the omnibus pulled up at their stop. They walked about fifty yards along the pavement to what looked like a meetinghouse. It was not really a proper church, the kind he had expected with the tower and the bell, but Hester seemed quite sure, so he went in beside her through the large open doors.
Inside there were rows of seats, all very hard, with the sort of backs that made you sit up straight, even if you didn’t want to. There were crowds of people there already. All the women he could see had hats on: big ones, small ones, ones with flowers, ones with ribbons, pale colors, dark colors, but nothing particularly bright, no reds or pinks or yellows. All the men wore dark suits. It must be some kind of uniform, like at school.
They had been there only a few moments when a handsome man came forward, smiling. He had fair, wavy hair touched with silver at the sides. He held his hand out, looking for an instant beyond Hester. Then, realizing there was no man with her, he withdrew his hand and bowed very slightly instead.
“How do you do, ma’am? My name is Abel Taft. May I welcome you to our congregation?”
“Thank you,” Hester said warmly. “I am Mrs. Monk.” She turned to introduce Scuff, and his heart almost stopped beating. Who was she going to say he was? An urchin she and Monk had picked up from the dockside, who knew no other name but Scuff? Would they make him leave?
Taft turned to meet Scuff’s eyes.
Scuff was paralyzed, his mouth as dry as dust.
Hester smiled, her head a little to one side. “My son, William,” she said, with only the barest hesitation.
Scuff found himself smiling so widely his face hurt.
“How do you do, William?” Taft said formally.
“How do you do?” Scuff’s voice came out scratchily. “Sir,” he added for good measure.
