Thirteenth Child

CHAPTER 2

GETTING OUR WHOLE FAMILY TOGETHER ALL AT ONE TIME ALWAYS made me feel a little strange, because I hardly knew my oldest brothers and sisters. Frank had been away at university since the year I was born. Sharl and Julie had both gotten married before I was two, and Peter had gone off East to school in the same year. Diane had moved out the year before, to keep the books for a candy-making business one of Papa’s friends owned. Even Charlie, who was going off to university in the fall, was older enough that I didn’t see him much. They felt more like strange grown-ups I had to be polite to than like family. Except for Charlie, I’d really only ever seen them on special occasions.

A formal Family Council was special enough for anybody. Papa hardly ever called for one; the last time, Rennie told me, was when she and Hugh were seven and Papa and Mama found out that their thirteenth child was going to be another set of twins. So, trouble though it was, everyone made the effort to come. Sharl brought cherry pie, Julie brought fritters, and Diane brought butter fudge from the candy store. Mama and Rennie and Nan made a dinner nearly as big as Harvest Feasting, and everyone ate until they nearly burst.

Even so, you could just tell that it wasn’t an ordinary family sit-down. Everyone was twitchy, wondering what the news would be this time. But Papa didn’t believe in doing business at the dinner table, so we all had to wait.

When the last of the plates had been removed and all the crumbs wiped up, everyone looked at Papa. “I told you all this was a Family Council,” he began, “but this is more in the way of an announcement than a discussion. Your mother and I wanted you all to hear this from us, and this was the only way we could think of to be sure no one would be left out. I have been asked to take a position at one of the new land-grant colleges out in the North Plains Territory, and I’ve accepted. We’ll be moving at the end of next month.”

Papa said that as if it was a settled thing, but he couldn’t have thought that that would be the end of it. Discussion there was, and plenty. I was surprised that most of the objecting and complaining came from the older ones. You’d think that Sharl and Julie would be satisfied running their own homes, but it seems they didn’t like the notion of Mama being so far away, just in case they might have an unexpected need to run home for something. Frank and Charlie were put out by the suddenness of it; Frank especially thought Papa might have given him a hint. Hugh thought moving out West would be a great adventure, and the younger boys were just as excited, but Diane and Rennie were more than upset enough for all of them. Rennie didn’t want to leave her friends, and Diane was sure that if she had to move out West, she’d never be able to come back for the music schooling she had her heart set on.

We younger ones didn’t say much. Well, Jack and Robbie did, but that was mostly about how much fun it would be. Lan was quiet, but he had a gleam in his eye that meant he was of much the same opinion. Nan sat and chewed on her lower lip like she was thinking real hard, until Allie poked her and made her giggle.

Patiently, Mama and Papa laid out the whole plan. The oldest ones were grown and gone, so moving mainly affected how often we’d see each other. And while it was true that no one could drop in for a chat, it wasn’t as if the North Plains Territory was a three-week trip in a horse-drawn wagon, the way it used to be. The overnight train only took two days and a night, Papa said, so we could still visit, and Mama could certainly come back for a week or two if there was a “special reason.” Sharl blushed when he said that, and looked down at her waistline and told him it was a great comfort to know that.

Charlie and Diane would stay with Uncle Stephen until Charlie went off to the university in the fall and Diane finished earning her music school money. Papa gave Rennie and Hugh the choice, whether to stay as well or come West with us younger ones.

“That’s easy!” Hugh declared immediately. “I’m coming. How about you, Rennie?”

“I don’t know,” Rennie said.

“What?” Hugh stared at her. “How can you not know? Why would you want to stay here?”

“I need to think about it,” Rennie told him. She sounded cross.

“Oh, come on, Rennie!” Hugh said. “It’ll be an adventure! Like the first settlers from the Old Continent.”

Robbie frowned. “I don’t want to live in a big forest full of monsters,” he objected.

“There is no forest where we’ll be going,” Papa said. “There won’t be any monsters, either, for it’s on the east side of the Great Barrier. It won’t be as comfortable and easy as Helvan Shores, but Mill City has been settled for some time.”

“It’s still right out on the frontier, isn’t it?” Hugh said with undiminished enthusiasm. “I bet there’ll be monsters! Bison, and mammoths, and those giant things with the horns on their noses, and—”

“Unicorns live in forests, dummy; everybody knows that,” Nan said.

“Unicorns have horns on their foreheads,” Hugh said with equal scorn. “I’m talking about those huge ugly things with the curly fur and the great horn on their nose.”

“Nan!” Mama said. “You do not call your brother names. And Hugh, if you cannot remember the proper name of a woolly rhinoceros, perhaps you should spend some extra time studying your natural history from now until the day we leave. Rennie may take plenty of time to think, if she wishes. We won’t be leaving Helvan Shores for another month and a half.”

Hugh groaned, and Jack piped up, asking, “What kind of school will we be going to?”

“Will it be all in one room with the same teacher, and everybody sharing books, and no pencils or paper?” Allie added anxiously

“What is the new house like?” Nan asked, right on top of Allie’s question. “Will I get my own room, or do I still have to share with Rennie?”

“Mill City is a little too large to make do with a one-room schoolhouse,” Papa said. “As for the house, you’ll know what it’s like as soon as I do. It’s being provided by the college, and we’ll have to see what we find when we get there.”

Mama gave him a disapproving look. “Daniel! What were you thinking? If they give us some little cracker box, we’ll never fit!”

“I let them know how many of us there are,” Papa reassured her. Mama still looked worried, until he added, “If the college doesn’t have someone in charge with sense enough to provide a dwelling large enough to hold us all, why, it’ll just show how very much they need my help, won’t it?”

That made Mama laugh, and the talk settled down. The older ones still weren’t totally happy with the notion, but everyone could see that they didn’t have a vote. The middle ones were split between the ones like Hugh, who thought that whatever happened would be fun and an adventure, and the ones like Diane and Rennie, who seemed to feel abandoned or hurt that Mama and Papa would even consider muddling up their lives like this. And the younger ones…we were just confused and excited. None of us had any real notion what it would mean.

Finally Papa called everyone to order and said, “I think we’ve covered the main points. Does anyone have any other questions?”

I raised my hand. “What’s a land-grant college?”

Papa laughed. “Trust Eff to get to the heart of the matter!” he said, as if I’d asked something very clever. And then he explained.

After the Secession War ended in 1838, the Assembly wanted to do something nice for all the Northern states and territories that had stuck with them in the fight. They couldn’t give out money, because there wasn’t any; they’d spent it all on winning the war. But one really bright Assemblyman had an idea. There were millions of acres of Federal land all over the country that hadn’t yet been homesteaded and that were bringing in no taxes or other money. Why not give some of it to the states and territories, to set up colleges? The states could sell the land, or rent it out, or build on it—whatever they wanted, as long as the money they got from it paid for colleges that taught people useful skills like agriculture and engineering and magic along with things like Latin and law.

The idea was a big hit, especially in the newest Western territories that didn’t have a lot of money yet for things like colleges. The North Plains Territory was one of the first to get its grant of land, but it had taken the settlers a while to study out exactly what they wanted to do with it. In the end, they sold some and put the money aside to pay for building the college on another part, and the rest they rented out to whoever wanted to pay. They’d had a good bit of luck when the railroad came through right by the land-grant site, so they had more money than anyone expected, and no shortage of students, either, once they got going. What they were short of was professors, especially professors who could teach more than just theoretical magic.

That was why they wanted Papa. It seems he had a good reputation as a practical magician, plus they’d talked to several people who said there wasn’t a teacher like him for explaining so that you could really understand and remember. They’d been after him for a whole year, and none of us except Mama had known a thing about it.

I started to get a funny feeling in my middle right about then. Neither Papa nor Mama had said anything about Uncle Earn or the policeman since that dreadful scene in the sitting room, but it wasn’t something you just forgot about. And Papa had never given anyone the smallest hint that he’d ever thought of heading West. I didn’t say anything at the meeting, but later, when Mama tucked me into bed, I asked her straight out.

“Is Papa making everybody move because of me?”

“What? Goodness, child, where did you get a notion like that?” Mama said.

“I thought maybe it was to keep Uncle Earn from putting me in jail,” I explained.

Mama took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. Then she looked at me with a serious expression. “Uncle Earn could not have you put in jail, whether we stay in Helvan Shores or not,” she said.

“But—”

Mama held up her hand, and I closed my mouth on my questions and listened real hard. “I can’t deny that moving will get you and Lan away from a type of attention and comment that your father and I think is very bad for you,” she said. “And I must admit that removing you from that poisonous atmosphere was one of the things we thought was a good reason to make the move.”

“Then—”

This time, Mama gave me a stern look. “Eff, you should wait until someone is quite finished speaking before you jump in with your comments.” She waited a moment, but I knew well enough not to open my mouth again. Once she was satisfied that I wasn’t going to interrupt, she went on, “But if you and Lan had been the only reasons we had for moving—if your father hadn’t been pleased and excited by the thought of trying out his ideas for teaching practical magic at a brand-new school that has no traditions to overturn, and if he hadn’t liked the notion of setting his stamp on an institution that will be teaching young magicians for the next hundred years and more—then we wouldn’t be going. Not even for you.” She smiled. “So you should be very glad that your father does feel that way shouldn’t you?”

Well, when she put it like that, I could see that wild horses couldn’t have kept Papa in Helvan Shores when there was something like this waiting. Only—“If Papa wanted to go West so much, how come it took him a whole year to make up his mind?” I asked.

“Because it’s a hard thing to leave a place where you’ve lived most of your life, where your brothers and sisters and parents still live, where some of your children will stay behind,” Mama said. “It’s a hard thing to risk what you know and are sure of, just for the possibility of something better. Even when it’s a pretty strong possibility, and something that’s a whole lot better.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

Mama bent and kissed my forehead. “You don’t understand now, but if you remember what I said, you’ll understand someday.”

She was right. I didn’t understand then, but I do now.