“I respect honesty, Pondwader. You will never offend me so long as you are telling me the truth. Now, please, go on. Finish what you wished to say to me earlier. About your talents.”
He nodded obediently, but hesitated, squinting at her again. Two upright lines formed between his white brows. “My talents are … unusual. I often have Dreams—about the future. I—”
“You mean Spirit Dreams? That come true?”
Wetting his lips, he nodded. “Yes, that’s what I mean. I have never told any of my relatives about them, because it would just frighten them more. But I knew, for example, that you would arrive at noon today, though the messenger said only your father, Seedpod, would be coming.”
Musselwhite nodded. “You are a Lightning Boy, Pondwader. This is not unexpected. What else?”
He clutched her hand. “I also sense things, from animals, trees, people … even passing clouds.”
“What do you mean? What kinds of things?”
“Well … I … don’t know how to describe them. I sense ‘intentions,’ good or evil. Sometimes I know there are people in the forest, because I hear them half a day’s walk away. I can do the same thing with a school of croakers. All I have to do is weight myself down with coral and lie on the bottom of the ocean, listening.”
“That could prove very valuable,” she said. “It will allow us to throw our nets out early, and result in a bigger catch.”
Eagerly, he said, “Yes. My own clan has never listened to me, but I promise I can improve your clan’s catches. Just wait. You’ll see. And—and I also know how to talk to ghosts. Crazy old Dogtooth taught me. He …”
Musselwhite looked away, suddenly, and Pondwader’s belly knotted. Ghosts. She must be thinking of her husband. His death had probably torn a hole in her life which now gaped huge and black before her. She gently disentangled her fingers from Pondwader’s and sat for a long while, quiet. When she looked back, Pondwader stared at her with all his souls in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I had not thought—”
“Nor should you have, Pondwader. Forgive me. I’m being foolish. I—”
“Oh, no. No, you are not.” His weak hand crept spiderlike across the blanket, reaching out to her again. “You have just lost two children and a husband, Musselwhite. Of course you are still bleeding inside.”
“It is more than that, Pondwader,” she said softly. “I am not myself just now. To tell you the truth, I don’t know who I am. My strength has seeped away like water from a cracked bowl. All I see inside me is a weak old woman who can barely keep her knees from buckling as she walks through your village.”
“I wish I could help. How can I? Please tell me.”
She patted his hand. “The warmth in your voice has helped. Thank you.”
He shifted against his pile of blankets, straightening up a little. That small effort left him breathing hard. He wilted back against the pile, and fought to make himself say what he knew he must. “There is one more thing I wish to say to you, Musselwhite. Please do not think me a child for saying it. I may never again have the opportunity to tell you … and I want you to know how very much I wish to marry you. I have idolized you since I was a small boy. Just the memory of your voice, your magnificent voice, has given me strength when I needed it most. Even if—”
“Pondwader, it is not proper—”
“Please, please, let me finish.”
“ … Go on.”
Pondwader’s pink eyes widened. “Even if for some reason, we do not marry. Please know that I will always love you … .” his words trailed away. He fumbled with his blanket, crumpling it in pale fists. “If I had the power, Musselwhite, I would ease all of your hurts. I know it is not proper to say such things this soon, but I wanted to tell you.”
She ran her fingers over the weaving in the coarse floor mats, not looking at him. “I do not know what to say, Pondwader. It has been a long time since I have heard a young man make such a declaration. A very long time … bright summer evenings long ago when Diver and I used to lie listening to the green rustlings and birdsong that filled the forest, he told me over and over how beautiful I was, how much he loved me, how many things he longed to give me. He vowed that he would fight the whole world to keep me safe. And he did. For two-tens-and-five wonderful summers. I want you to … to try to understand. It will take me a long time to grow accustomed to losing him. This marriage will not be easy for me. But my despair, my anger, has nothing to do with you. I like you very much. Do you understand?”