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37. Wehna
WEHNA
ARVO’S WHOLE BODY TIPS FORWARD, ever so slowly, until his forehead rests on the book open before him. He hangs there, suspended between table and chair, with his arms dangling straight down between. The bracelet of flying birds shines softly around one of his little wrists.
“I don’t wanna learn how to read,” comes his voice, muffled against the pages. He sways his arms apathetically. “You can’t make me.”
With difficulty, I hide my smile behind pinched lips. “Not even if I ... tickle you?” I lunge forward and attack his exposed armpits. He shrieks and pulls his elbows in to his sides, his malaise giving way to a level of glee fitting for a five-year-old. I flick my hair out of my face and kneel on the wood floor. His grin fades as he pulls his right arm onto the tabletop and rests his cheek on it, looking at me with those green eyes.
“Mada and Pada aren’t coming back, are they?” he whispers. His soft voice pierces me like a blade.
I reach for his hand, pin it between mine, and open my mouth to say something—anything—other than the truth. But I stop. He deserves to know. He probably already does, and it would only hurt him more to keep lying to him like this.
“No,” I say, watching him carefully. He sucks in his bottom lip and gives a tiny, shattering nod. My brave, brave baby brother. Two solitary tears creep out of the corners of his eyes, leaving shiny trails across the bridge of his nose and his squished cheek. I stop them with a finger, taking the crystal droplets and pressing them to the fabric right above my heart.
“You’re keeping them?”
“Always.”
“In your heart?”
I nod, my own tears falling freely.
“Good.” He sighs, and a smile bunches his other cheek. “Mada and Pada will want them.”
A swirl of girls in dresses and braids and flower crowns enters the kitchen and consumes the quiet moment Arvo and I were sharing. My brother sits up and wipes his eyes.
“Do you wanna help us make a garland for the door?” one of the little girls whispers loudly in Arvo’s ear as her sisters drop armful after armful of blooms on top of his schoolwork. He frowns, but then brightens and looks up at me hopefully.
“Can I be done learning for today?”
“Of course,” I say as I pat his head and back out of the room. The happy chatter, which felt like a noose around my heart, fades behind me.
Bryn and Tress have been so accommodating. Even though they have five children of their own—all daughters ranging from the ages of two to thirteen—they’ve welcomed Arvo and me into their house without a single word of complaint.
I feel like a terrible human being as I grab a lantern and escape their company, leaving Arvo to the girls’ dotage.
I suck in a long breath of the cooler evening air and hold it in my lungs for a while before letting it escape. Sometimes, the noise and busyness get to me. I’m just a pebble in a sea of activity, refusing to be carried by the waves of life, sinking lower and lower no matter how I’m tugged about. And although my soul knows it needs this—this sense of belonging and carefree levity—I feel like I’m one girlish giggle away from a complete meltdown.
What’s worse is I know I should be setting some sort of example for these young ladies. They probably look up to me for some unaccountable reason. But I can’t make myself stay with them a moment longer.
“Wehna.” A breathy laugh animates my name, and I spin around to find its source. Amyrah jogs down the street, her face rosy, her eyes aglow, her necklace bouncing against her throat. The weight on my mind eases a little.
“What happened to you?” I ask, reaching out to stop her. She laughs again, her fawn waves floating in a crazy halo around her.I have to give her some curly hair tips,I remind myself.
“You wouldn’t—” a gasp for air interrupts her. “You wouldn’t believe it.”
I loop my arm through hers before she falls over and lead her down the central street of Ellithïm. “I’m heading to the market. Walk with me and tell me after you catch your breath.”
She nods and leans against me.
“I don’t even know where to start,” she says once the color has normalized in her cheeks. We duck out of the gate together and pull close to fit down the dark alley side by side.
She and Belwyn must have had quite the talk,I muse, irritated with myself for the twinge of jealousy that rises at the thought. I don’t even know the guy, but I saw the way he looked at her. No one has ever looked at me like that.
“Start with that boy,” I press, making her stop short.
“Oh—No. No, this isn’t about him.” Her cheeks flush scarlet. “Um, yes, I guess it started there. That was, uh, confusing. And ... wonderful. Well, mostly.” She laughs at the knowing smile creeping over my lips. “It’s not what you think. And we may have ended in an argument, to be honest.”
