The Secret Under My Skin by Janet Mcnaughton

Author:Janet Mcnaughton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Canada
Published: 2017-04-26T04:00:00+00:00

Geology Lessons for Bio-Indicators

We arrive home to find Marrella eating a breakfast she made for herself. She looks annoyed. “You must wonder where we’ve been,” Erica says, smoothing the tension from the air while she enables the cloaking device.

“Well, yes.”

“First of all, I’ll tell you your good news. A boat is leaving Kildevil with a shipment of cloth. It was supposed to leave today but I have arranged for it to wait until tomorrow. You will be in the cabin so we can travel to the Tablelands without violating the taboo that prevents the townspeople from seeing you. That way, you can complete your final test before the weather grows too cold and keep the date of your ceremony without difficulty.” Erica looks proud of herself. That explains why she was in Kildevil before dawn, at least in part.

“Thank you,” Marrella says but grudgingly. She would rather not owe Erica anything.

If Marrella’s reaction angers Erica, she does not show it.

“We have other good news,” she says, “as Blake will tell you herself.” Not for the first time I feel as if Erica has made me the center of attention without warning.

“Who is Blake?” Marrella asks.

The words catch and I must clear my throat before I can speak. “I am,” I say. “There was a micro-dot implanted in my arm. Now I know who I am.”

“The secret was in the kitchen scanner all the time,” Erica says, telling the truth without saying more than Marrella should know.

Marrella turns pale. “But if you know who you are, does that mean you’ll be leaving me?” The alarm in her voice is sincere. I can’t help responding with warmth. “Oh, no. I have a name, but that’s all. My past is lost. Of course, I’ll remain here with you.” The color returns to Marrella’s cheeks.

“Go to William now, Marrella,” Erica says, but kindly.

“Tell him I was able to arrange this trip. He will prepare you. Blake and I will spend the day packing.” When she leaves, Erica says, “I had no idea she had grown so fond of you.” She sounds as pleased as I feel. Perhaps Marrella cannot bear to part with me because I provide the answers she needs, but I can’t help hoping she likes me just a little.

After the morning observation set, we begin to pack. I always imagined that knowing my name would change my life completely. Outwardly, it changes nothing, but while I work, ideas begin to knit themselves together to form a new picture of myself. Not an unwanted child, cast aside. Not set adrift because my parents couldn’t keep me. The Someone who held me was not just a product of my imagination. “Mother.” I test the word on my tongue, quietly, when I am alone, to see what it feels like. And I can almost see her, at the edge of my vision. When we make lunch I ask Erica some questions, hoping to bring that Someone into focus. “What did Lem mean this morning when he said Blake was a poet’s name?”

“William Blake.

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