Soldier at the Door(37)
And so far, he was a remarkably silent dog. But someday he would live up to his name, and then Mahrree would announce it was time for him to go.
Undoubtedly Barker knew that, so he never made a sound.
The animal, now twice as large and still growing, looked up at her as if trying to understand her glare for his adding to the messes she had to clean up each day. There was absolutely no malice in the dog’s eyes. Just pleading for acceptance.
Mahrree nodded at it once—the most she could manage—and Barker put his head back down to enjoy the last of the fair weather. Mahrree rolled her eyes at him and looked back up at the road.
A child was coming down the road heading towards the main fort road, one of her former morning students.
“Hello Mr. Hili!” she called cheerfully. “Where are you off to on this glorious afternoon?”
Qualipoe smiled and bounded up the road to her house. He let himself in the gate and awkwardly accepted the weed Jaytsy offered him.
Barker didn’t even twitch his nose at someone coming in the gate. Guard dog, indeed.
“You don’t have to eat Jaytsy’s weed, even though she finds them tasty,” Mahrree assured Qualipoe.
He nodded in relief. “I’m going to watch the soldiers do their drilling,” he said as he came and sat down on the steps below Mahrree. Immediately he stood back up, brushed the stones carefully free of any dirt, then sat down again.
Mahrree had wondered about his clothing as he had approached. Under his woolen jacket was a shirt of shimmering pale yellow that set off his light brown skin, and his pants were a dark fabric more tightly woven and finely spun than Perrin’s dress uniform. Even his thick black hair was carefully combed. Qualipoe sat stiffly.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a fine set of clothing before, Poe.”
He sighed as heavily as his nine-year-old lungs would allow. “It’s called an outfit,” he explained. “And I am not supposed to get it dirty.”
Mahrree cringed in sympathy. “Kind of hard to throw dirt clods in, I guess.”
“Yes,” he said miserably.
“May I ask why you are wearing such nice clothing?”
“Because it’s what everyone at the seaside villages are wearing this season.”
“So,” Mahrree ventured, “why do you think you are wearing it? We’re days away from the sea, and people usually only visit it once in their lives.”
He looked at her with dismay.
“Obviously you haven’t been out to the new shops,” he said in a sophisticated tone that startled Mahrree. “This is what everyone is wearing now. Except you.”
Mahrree nodded amusedly and fingered the rounded collar on his shirt. “No, I haven’t gotten out much lately. That feels amazing, I must admit. What’s it called?”
“I think it’s silk.”
“I’ve heard of silk, but never saw any before. Guess it’s finally arrived in Edge.”
“It’s really gross to think about,” Poe said, pulling a face. “It’s actually worm droppings, or something like that.”
Mahrree’s fingers immediately stopped moving on the collar. “I think it may be something a little different than that,” she suggested as she let the collar go.
“All I know is, I can’t play. I have to sit and look like a handsome young man.”
“That is a burden,” Mahrree agreed. “Is that what your mother said before she sent you out this afternoon?”
“It’s what she said before she went to work and I left for school. She said she’d be home by dinner time.”
That troubled Mahrree. She knew Poe’s mother had started working since her son was now in the new Full School system implemented in Edge, ‘only as trial basis,’ the Administrators had assured. About half of the parents had signed up their children, and soon after began working further from home. But she hadn’t expected Poe would be left on his own.
“No one’s home for you right now? You’re all alone?”
“I’m sitting here with you!” he said brightly. “And I’m going to meet my friends at the fort.”
“Still, that’s a bit of a walk from your home. You know, you can stay here with me until dinner time. We can talk.”
“Talk about what?”
“Oh, all kinds of things. What are you learning about in school?”
“Angles,” he said glumly.
“Ooh, angles are important. You can measure things with angles and you certainly can’t make a proper catapult without understanding angles.”
“We’re not making catapults this year, we’re just talking about them.” He kicked the dirt by his shoe.