The Collagist by Karen Holmberg

Author:Karen Holmberg
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Regal House Publishing
Published: 2024-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

11

Arra

Romilly crept upstairs and pushed the bedroom door ajar without a sound. Her father slept on, curled on his side, his face bearing the mournful look that caused her heart to squeeze. His fear of losing her had grown into her like a vine around a young tree; his words I’ll not risk you were like the hum of blood in her ears, almost part of her body. Yet she also knew that to grow independent of her father was a natural thing; and, like all natural things, it involved loss and change. Somehow for him, this loss was total, as if the loss of her mother had permanently warped his perspective. As if all partings meant death. She strained against these fine but infinitely strong cords binding her in place.

Suddenly, she sensed a bustle and energy downstairs, then heard Arra’s clear voice greeting her uncle with a rollicking laugh. Her father stirred and gave a writhing stretch, and before she could turn and slip away, his eyes opened on her face. He looked searchingly at her a moment, as if memorizing her features. From the kitchen came the bump and scraping clatter of chairs being rearranged and the muffled tones of hearty folks trying, but failing, to whisper. His face changed, swiftly stiffening into suspicion, then dread.

“I hear voices,” he said, as he pushed himself up to a crouch. “Who’s here? Who’s speaking with my brother?”

Just then they heard a decisive tread on the stairs, and in an instant, Arra was hugging Romilly from behind, peering over her shoulder at the bewildered man crouching on his pallet. Romilly smelled the minty fragrance that always accompanied Arra, who dried large quantities of mint in the rafters of her house.

“Hello, dears,” Arra said with frank pleasure. “I’m here in the capacity of laundress.” She spun Romilly around and clucked, surveying her dingy and wrinkled dress. “It looks like they’ve been using you to mop the floors,” she added, kissing her cheek with a smack.

Her father, speechless, staggered to his feet.

“What are you talking about, Arra?” he said, when he finally could speak. “How on earth did you know where to find us?”

“Well, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out, when you didn’t return yesterday, that you must have pulled your boat up somewhere either along the coast, or on the shore of one of these islands. And as the islands are visible from my collecting routes, I’ve been watching out for signs of you. And the smoke from the fireplace,” she continued reasonably, “was a fair clue. Especially as I had blocked the chimney last year to make sure the bats and swifts didn’t nest there. I figured one or both of you brothers must have landed here for a bit of a holiday. I could use one too. Oh! And as if that wasn’t enough, I met Micah on the path and he said he had seen Romilly and her uncle on the tide flats recently, and that both seemed in one piece.

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