East

Neddy

WHEN FATHER RETURNED from his journey, he told me of his exhausting, disappointing search, and also of the one little glimmer of hope. A sighting by a drunken fool was too pitiful to pin one's hopes to, but we both did anyway.

In the meantime, we were just beginning to experience the fruits of our newfound good fortune. The "journey maps" that Soren had thought so promising turned out to be vastly successful, exceeding even his expectations. Demand for more, with increased routings, came pouring in. My brother and sister and I were put in charge of drafting new maps based on the new charts Father had brought back. Father supervised us, until it was time for him to leave again. Between that work and watching over the farm, I barely had time to look at the books Soren had so kindly sent to me.

I noticed that in Father's absence Mother was becoming even more superstitious than before. In part this was because Father wasn't there to temper her, but I also believe that because in some way—either small or large, depending on your point of view—it was Mother's superstition that had caused us to lose Rose, she had to justify herself. If it was superstition that lost Rose, then superstition would also bring her back. At least that was my best guess as to why Mother was behaving the way she did.

I also noticed, as we all did, that Mother had suddenly gotten quite chummy with Widow Hautzig. The unpleasant woman had come nosing around when she got wind of our reversal in fortune, and we were all mystified at first by the burgeoning friendship until we discovered that Widow Hautzig was also very superstitious. Rose had commented on this to me once or twice, but I had paid little attention. Also, Mother had found an herbal remedy for rheumatism that Widow Hautzig swore by, and this, too, tightened their bond.

I overheard them one day going on about some charm worn around the ankle that would direct a person to that which was lost. I thought I heard the old widow whisper Rose's name, and I saw Mother shake her head with a sidelong glance at me. I wondered then just how much Mother may have confided in Widow Hautzig, and the thought made me uncomfortable.

Father returned from his most recent journey, but this time he had not even a kernel of hope to offer. He seemed tired and out of sorts. And not long after his arrival home, I came across Mother and Father quarreling. She was urging him to tie the herbal charm around his ankle when he set off on his next journey to seek Rose. Father's face was pale and his tone was tight, as if from the strain of holding in a great rage. "I want none of your charms, Eugenia. It was your foolish superstition that led us down this road and I'll have none of it. Not ever again, do you hear!" And he stalked away.

The look on Mother's face at first made me want to comfort her, for she seemed confused and unhappy, even a little lost. But then I saw her give a shrug, and her features resolved into a placid, comfortable expression. And instead of comforting her, I, too, walked away.

There was money by then to make improvements to the farmhouse, and Mother enjoyed the choosing and spending, though she tried not to show it too much. We were all aware, every minute of every day, of that which was lost to us, and no amount of comfort or wealth would make up for that.

One of the first purchases Mother made was the loom owned by Widow Hautzig, the one that we had repaired. (It seemed to me that the least the widow could have done was to give that loom as a gift to us, especially because we had been the ones to restore it to working order, but despite her close friendship with Mother, the widow was as grasping as ever.) Mother cleaned and polished the loom, and set it in a place of honor in our great room, where it awaited Rose's return.

Widow Hautzig took to accompanying Mother on her occasional shopping trips into Andalsnes. They spent much of their time at a shop run by Sikram Ralatt, a traveling merchant who had recently come to Andalsnes. He sold various concoctions and herbal remedies, as well as a whole line of charms promising one outcome or another. As I said, Father was either traveling or working in his new workshop, and paid little heed to what Mother was doing. But I saw and was uneasy.