East

Neddy

IT WAS ONE OF THE fairest springs we'd ever had on the farm. Each day dawned clear and fresh, with a bright blue sky. And somehow the very beauty of the days sharpened my feelings of missing Rose.

Early in lambing season I began to notice that Mother and Widow Hautzig were up to something. They were always whispering together or spending hours in the woods collecting things they kept hidden. My guess was that they were concocting some sort of charm, either a finding charm to bring Rose back or a love charm to heal the rift between Mother and Father. If Father had been at home, I would have talked to him about it, but he was gone again.

Soren had told me about a scholar in Trondheim who was eager for an apprentice or assistant. After hearing about me, the scholar suggested that we meet. I knew Soren was longing for Father to move the mapmaking business to Trondheim, and that he was trying to enlist me in his efforts. Though I was sorely tempted to meet the scholar, I felt as Father did. Because of Rose I did not want to leave the farm. So I put Soren off, saying I was not ready yet, and thanked him for his generous efforts on my behalf.

One day I was walking from Father's workshop up to the house for the midday meal. Willem, Sonja, and I had completed the most recent order from Soren, and I was eagerly looking forward to spending the afternoon poring over the new books he had sent. I saw a figure dressed in gray standing in front of the farmhouse. She was facing away from me, but I knew at once who it was. "Rose!" I cried out, unbelieving.

She turned to face me. I ran to her, folding her in my arms, my eyes blinded by tears. Then I held her away from me, drinking in the sight of her standing there, solid and real. She looked thinner, but her face glowed with happiness.

"Rose, are you truly back? I can't believe it," I said. The smile on her face wavered. "'Tis only a visit, Neddy," she said in a quiet voice.

"Why?"

"I promised."

"The white bear?"

"Yes."

"Where is he?"

"He is gone but will return for me."

"How long?"

"One month."

"That is too short! Surely..." I stopped when I saw her expression.

Hearing our voices, Willem and Sonja came out of the farmhouse. There were cries of joy and many hugs, and shortly thereafter Mother and Sara came walking up the road, in company with Widow Hautzig.

"Rose? Is it Rose?" Sara cried, and soon Sara, Rose, and Mother were embracing one another all at once while Widow Hautzig looked on.

"Sara, you look well! You are fully recovered?" Rose asked.

Sara smiled and nodded.

"Oh, Sara, I am so happy to see you." And Rose embraced Sara all over again.

"But Rose, you are so thin!" Mother said, tears in her eyes, as she tightly clasped Rose to her. "Come inside," she said, pulling Rose into the farmhouse. "There is soup on the hearth. And then you must tell us everything!"

Rose was so busy gazing around the farmhouse that she seemed barely to hear Mother's words. "Everything is different," she said. "The new furniture. Fresh paint. What has happened while I was gone?"

"Ah, it is a long tale," Mother replied. "Sit down, and I'll fetch you a bowl of soup. Sara, get Rose a cup of apple mead."

Rose obediently sat. Then her eyes lit on the loom.

"Oh, it's Widow Hautzig's loom. How kind of you to give it to us," she said to the widow.

Widow Hautzig had the grace to look a little embarrassed, but Mother rescued her. "It is yours now, Rose. I knew you would be back." She and Widow Hautzig exchanged a look as Mother placed the bowl of soup in front of Rose.

"I ... I'm sorry, Mother, but I'm not really hungry. Where is Father?"

"Your father is not here, Rose," Mother replied. "He is a mapmaker now. Off on an exploring journey."

"And searching for you," I added.

"A mapmaker! Oh, I am so glad," Rose said happily. "When will he be back?"

"We don't know," I responded. "Last time he was gone nearly two months."

. "Oh no!" Rose said, obviously distressed. "I haven't much time..."

"What do you mean?" Mother asked sharply. "You are back to stay, aren't you, Rose?"

Rose shook her head. I could see her hands were tightly clenched in her lap.

"Rose is only visiting," I said. "She can stay for one month, no more. Come, Rose, let me show you Father's new workshop."

Rose quickly got to her feet, giving me a grateful look. "I'll eat later, Mother," she said as we went out the door.

"Is Father really a mapmaker, Neddy?" she asked. "Tell me everything!"

While we walked I told her the whole story, of all that had happened since she had left us. I didn't show her Father's workshop after all, not then, for we decided to keep walking until we got to our favorite spot, the hillside where Rose had first showed me the wind-rose cloak.

Rose listened in amazement. When I was done, I leaned over and took her hand. "Now it is your turn," I said. "Tell me where you have been and all that has happened to you."

She was silent. "I cannot, Neddy," she finally said.

She loosened her hand from mine and, standing up, threw her arms out and put her face toward the sun. "It is so good to be home!" she said, joy radiating from her.

I smiled. Then Rose leaned down and, grabbing up a fistful of heather, put it to her nose, breathing in deeply. I remembered how Rose always loved to smell things. I used to call her an elkhound; her favorite dog, Snurri, was an elkhound, and like all of that breed, he had a remarkable sense of smell.

"Oh, it's wonderful, Neddy. You don't know how wonderful." She went darting about, touching things, smelling them.

Finally she sank down beside me again. "I'm sorry, Neddy. I would like to tell you everything, but I cannot, not very much anyway. There were parts that were very, very nice. And there were some parts that were hard. Like not being able to do this..." She buried her nose in heather again. "And the loneliness. The being shut inside..." She shivered a little, then brightened. "But it is fine, Neddy. I don't mind going back, as long as I can have a little time like this."

"But why must you go back? You do not owe the white bear anything."

"Sara is well now," Rose replied. "And Father's workshop ... the good fortune that came to our family because I..."

"You sound like Mother! Rose, those things had nothing to do with the bear. It was coincidence, nothing more. Harald Soren, a flesh-and-blood man, brought about our good fortune, not the bear."

Rose looked at me. There was a yearning in her face, as if she wanted very much to believe what I said. "You can't know that, not for sure, Neddy," she said slowly. "And besides, I made a promise."

"To the bear."

She nodded, her eyes bright. I thought she might weep, but she didn't. "Don't let's talk about this anymore, Neddy."

"I won't press you," I said. "But if you do wish to talk about anything at all, I am here."

"Thank you," she replied softly. And we began making our way back to the farmhouse.

"What is that nasty Widow Hautzig doing here anyway?" Rose asked in a low voice as we saw Mother and the widow coming out of the front door.

"She and Mother have grown thick as thieves," I replied.

"What does Father think of it?"

"He barely notices, he's gone so much. And..." I paused. "Well, there is ill feeling between Mother and Father."

"Because of me?" Rose said quickly.

"It began then," I answered, somewhat unwillingly.

"I am sorry to hear it," Rose said. "Oh, how I wish Father would return!"

"So do I," I replied fervently. "What joy it would give him to see you back home."