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People of the Lightning(51)

By:W. Michael Gear


Polished Shells wiped her forehead. “How can you be so calm, Kelp? Your brother is about to be married.”

“That’s why I’m calm. Better him than me.” Kelp saw her grandmother starting across the village with Pondwader on her arm. “Here they come.”

“Who?” Polished Shells blurted and whirled around. “Oh, my, is it time? Are you hot, Kelp? I swear I’ve never been so hot in my life.”

“Of course you’re hot. You’ve been bending over cooking fires all day.”

“I don’t understand it, Kelp. You should be nervous. Your brother is going away forever, and you—”

“No, he’s not,” Kelp said.

Polished Shells frowned at her. “What are you talking about? Windy Cove is—”

“I overheard Grandmother speaking to my mother. She told Dark Rain that, as part of the final agreement, both villages decided to move together. For protection. We’ll be moving north and they’ll be moving south. I guess we’ll meet somewhere in the middle.”

“You heard that? Why didn’t Mother tell me?”

“You were busy with the feast.”

Polished Shells sighed gruffly. “That’s true. What else did Mother say? Tell me quickly before the ritual begins.”

Kelp shrugged. “Not very much. She said that Windy Cove agreed to give us one quarter of their nut crop in exchange for one quarter of our catfish catch. But I think that’s silly, now that we’ve agreed to move together into one big village.”

“It is silly. We’ll just end up distributing everything equally, like we always do. What else?”





Pondwader grinned at Kelp as he walked closer. He looked very handsome. His pale face with its pointed nose and pink eyes seemed to glow in the frame of his dark blue hood. Long white hair hung down over the front of his robe. His hem dragged the ground, making him trip on occasion, but the scallops of baby lightning whelk shells on his breast and covering his sleeves distracted people’s attention; they shimmered wildly. Her grandmother, short gray hair hanging over her eyes, wore a tan tunic covered with yellow cockle shells. Kelp wasn’t certain which of them was supporting the other. Sometimes it seemed Pondwader held up Moonsnail, and other times it seemed her grandmother fought to keep Pondwader on his feet. It was truly amusing. Kelp glanced around the large gathering to see if anyone else thought so. Everybody was smiling, so it was hard to tell. People flooded in behind Pondwader and followed him out to the edge of the surf, where they would await the arrival of Musselwhite and Seedpod.

“Well, come along,” Polished Shells said, wiping her hands on her tunic. “Let’s join them. The ritual won’t take long once we’re all gathered, then I can worry more about the geese.”

Kelp chuckled, and they walked out to the where the surf rushed up on shore, tumbling shells in its frothy wake, then scurried back to Sea Girl’s bosom. Rain began to fall in a light misty shower.

Kelp sidled up next to Pondwader, and he beamed at her, but before Kelp could speak to him, an odd hush came over the crowd and people shoved each other until they opened a narrow lane. Dark Rain walked down it, smiling like a bobcat with a blue heron’s neck in its jaws.

“Great Treefrog, she’s magnificent,” Kelp heard Beaverpaw whisper to his squat wife, Waterbearer, who elbowed him in the gut in response. Once he’d caught his breath, he scowled at her.

Dark Rain wore red, her favorite, and seductively played with the cooter carapace necklace hanging between her breasts. She had left her long hair free and it fluttered elegantly about her face. When she stopped in front of Polished Shells, she whispered, “Go stand somewhere else. My place is beside my son.”

Polished Shells smiled and replied, “I would strangle you with a cord, sister of mine, but I don’t have one with me. You go stand somewhere else. You’ve never been a mother to your son.”

Moonsnail hissed, “Stop it! Both of you!”

Pondwader lifted a hand to hide the smile that split his face, and Kelp leaned over to whisper, “Thank the Shining People that you’ll soon have your own shelter and be able to escape this.”

“You think so?”

“Of course, fool. Who would dare to torment Musselwhite’s husband?”

Pondwader placed his hand on Kelp’s shoulder. While smiling at the crowd, he asked from the corner of his mouth, “May I lean on you, Kelp? I think I’m going to fall over.”

“Oh, Great Mouse!” She braced her legs, pulled his arm across her shoulders and helped him shift his weight to her. “You’re trembling, Pondwader! You should be in bed.”