In Pursuit of the Green Lion by Judith Merkle Riley

Author:Judith Merkle Riley [Riley, Judith Merkle]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: _isfdb, Novel
Publisher: Delacorte Press
Published: 1990-10-02T00:00:00+00:00

“MAMA, THAT’S AN UGLY cloak. Why didn’t you buy a pretty one?” Alison was poking through my purchases as I spread them out on the bed in the upstairs room at the Wengrave house. It was hard to hear her, because she was wearing the hat. It was not only very nearly the width of her outstretched arms, but came down well over her chin. The strings hung to her waist.

“It’s a pilgrim’s cloak, silly.” Cecily was inspecting the money belt and heavy shoes. “It makes you look holy when you’re traveling. Then everybody helps you and nobody hurts you.”

“Nobody will hurt my mama. She’s pretty. Besides, Brother Malachi will touch all the bad people with his magic wand. Poof! Then he’ll turn them into frogs.”

“Who says?”

“Sim told me. Brother Malachi can do anything.”

“Mama, you’ll come back soon, won’t you?” Cecily’s voice was troubled.

“Of course she will,” Alison’s little voice piped from beneath the hat as she clambered up and plumped herself on the bed. “Mama never forgets us. She’ll bring presents and sweets. I want a new white pony and five colors of hair ribbons, Mama. Remember I like red and green best. No brown.”

“Yes, I’ll be back just as soon as ever I can. Remember I’ll be thinking of you and praying for you every night, and be good for Mistress Wengrave.”

“Not—easy,” announced Alison, kicking her plump little feet, shod in quilted wool slippers, on the side of the bed. “‘Stand up! Bow down! Quiet now! Softer voice, Alison!’ Mistress Wengrave is ve-ry bossy! She’s the bossiest!”

“Not as bossy as step-grandfather. Nobody’s as bossy as him,” Cecily corrected her sister.

Was it imagination, or was Alison distinctly pudgier than she’d been a month ago? Cecily was growing again. Her skinny shins were peeping beneath her hem. I need to let it down again, I thought. There’s one more turn in it before Alison gets it. Maybe I’ll trim it with ribbon when I put the hem up again for Alison. Then it will seem more like a new dress. Oh, God, France is so far away. Suppose I don’t live to turn up Alison’s hem? Who will remember that she doesn’t like hand-me-downs unless they’re made pretty for her? No, it can’t happen that way. It mustn’t happen. I couldn’t help the tears that came up in my eyes as I embraced them yet another time and said, “You must never be afraid. God has sent His angels to watch over you while I’m gone.”

“Angels? Can they make buns too?” And Alison, ever distractible, sat herself down to play with my beads and sing the baby song about all the things that go in a cake.

“Don’t worry, Mama. I’m big. I’ll look after Alison. I can do anything.”

“—and saf-fron, and sugar—”

“You’re Mama’s brave, big girl. Remember, I rely on you—”

“—I’m big too—and cinnamon—”Alison went on singing.

“I can do anything a grown-up can do. Even grown-up men were afraid of the big horse. But I wasn’t. And I rode him. I can do anything.

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