The Dollmage

They played and hid and laughed in the deepening twilight, and on beneath the blurred stars. Each of the boys took turns having Annakey hide with them in their best spots, crouching close with her until they were found and had to race for the barrel. Manal seemed always close by, wherever she was hiding. Annakey forgot to be careful of Renoa and laughed outright, and for the first time that evening Manal laughed too.

Finally, it was Areth’s turn to show Annakey his favorite hiding place, which was in the upper boughs of a tree. While they were hiding, Areth asked for a kiss.

Annakey shook her head and pointed to Tawm who was seeker, and coming close to them.

“Yes,” Areth said.

“Shh,” she said. “Here comes Tawm.”

“Yes,” Areth said again.

Annakey moved from the upper boughs to the lower boughs, her eyes on Tawm, ready to run and reach the barrel first if he spotted them.

“I will have a kiss,” Areth said, coming close to her.

Annakey drew away. “A kiss is a kind of promise,” she said, “to the one you will marry.”

Areth grabbed her arm and held it tight. “Then promise to marry me.”

Annakey laughed low, uncomfortably, thinking to make light of it. “We are not children,” she said. Areth did not smile.

Annakey stopped pretending it was nothing. “No,” she said, trying to pull her arm away.

Areth put his mouth close to her ear. “Your mother and father are dead. There is no one to protect you.”

“You speak like a robber boy,” Annakey said angrily.

“Seen! Seen!” Tawm called. Annakey was on the ground and running almost before he cried out. Areth was quick after her, but then Manal seemed to appear from nowhere. Annakey hit the barrel, gasping for air. She saw Manal exchange a word with Areth. Areth turned and went in the direction of home, and that is when he began to let winter live in his heart.

When everyone else had. gathered around the barrel, Manal said, “It is too dark to play anymore. We must be up early for the fields.”

“Once more,” Renoa said.

“Yes, once more,” the other girls said, except for Annakey, who had not learned how to follow Renoa.

The boys drifted away. “Good night, Annakey” some of them said, ignoring Renoa.

Renoa stared after them a moment. “We girls will play once more, then,” she said at last. “Annakey, now you will be seeker.”

The girls vanished into the shadows. Annakey counted and then began seeking. She was joyous. For the first time in a very long time, she had laid aside the burdens of an adult and played like a child. She looked behind the trees and in the bushes. She looked near the river, behind the boulders, among the village ovens still smelling of bread, and under the drying trays heavy with shriveled fruit. She looked in all the favorite hiding spots until the moon had ridden some of her slow arc across the stars.

She found no one.

Finally she called out: “I give up! Renoa! Hasty! Willa!”

There was no answer. Annakey waited, and then looked some more. She stood by the barrel until the common fire was no more than glowing ash. Finally, she heard a rustle in the grasses.

“Renoa?” Annakey said, smiling into the dark.

“It is me, Manal. I heard you calling.”

“Manal, I cannot find any of them. Come, help me. . . .”

“They are not hiding,” Manal said. “I saw them at Dollmage’s house. All of them.”

Manal said nothing while Annakey realized that they had played a trick on her.

In the meantime, I had been treating Renoa and her friends to a hot barley drink on my stoop. At first I thought their laughter was high spirits, until I listened to their talk. I went to fetch Annakey myself. My heart could be kind toward her when I knew she was sad and frowning, but when I opened the door, I saw her walking home with Manal. He was saying such things as to make her smile despite her hanging head and drooping shoulders.

My pity drained away. Everything that made her sad found a way to lead to smiling, smiling, smiling.

Annakey was shoveling manure in my chicken coop the next day.

“If your mother had not died,you would not have to work this way,” Renoa said to her. “But then, she brought it on herself.”

Annakey ignored Renoa and attended to her shoveling. She had learned over the years that it made her unhappier to fight back than it did to endure Renoa.

“Do you like to work for Oda the egg-woman?”

“She is very thrift,” Annakey said after a moment.

“Dollmage says she will give me a toffee doll today when I have learned a few things,” Renoa replied.

I called, “Come in, Renoa. It is time to work.”

“Now, Dollmage Hobblefoot? It is such a beautiful day.”

“Time is running short. I am old. If I died tomorrow, what would you do?”

“You won’t die tomorrow, Grandmother. You are young and strong. Please, let me be with my friends just an hour longer and then we will begin.” She was smiling at Annakey, and it made her voice sweet.

“Very well,” I said. “You may have one more hour.”