Soul of the Fire

She realized it was true. She was so tired, so dead tired from pulling rocks from the spring field all day, that she'd been asleep before she closed her eyes. They'd come home when it got too dark to work any more, ate down their porridge, and got right to bed. She could still taste the squirrel meat from the porridge, and she was still burping new radishes. Bruce was right; they'd only just gone to bed.

Trepidation trembled through her. "Where's your pa?"

Bethany lifted a hand to point. "Went to the privy, I guess. Mama, what's wrong?"

"Mama?" Bruce puled.

"Hush, now, it be nothin'. Lay back down, the both of you."

Both children stared at her, wide-eyed. She couldn't stick a pin in the alarm she felt. The children saw it in her face, she knew they did, but she couldn't hide it no matter how she tried.

She didn't know what was wrong, what the trouble was, but she felt it sure, crawling on her skin.

Evil.

Evil was in the air, like smoke from a woods fire, wrinkling her nose, sucking her breath. Evil. Somewhere, out in the night, evil, lurking about.

She glanced again to the empty bed beside her. Gone to the privy. Julian was in the privy house. Had to be.

Nora recalled him going' to the privy house just after they ate, before they went to their bed. That didn't mean he couldn't go again. But he never did say he was having no problem.

Consternation clawed at her insides, like the fear of the Keeper himself.

"Dear Creator, preserve us," she whispered in prayer. "Preserve us, this house of humble people. Send evil away. Please, dear spirits, watch over us and keep us safe."

She opened her eyes from the prayer. The children were still staring at her. Bethany must feel it, too. She never let nothing go without asking why. Nora called her the "why child" in jest. Brace just trembled.

Nora threw the wool blanket aside. It scared the chickens in the corner, making them flap with a start and let out a surprised squawk.

"You children go back to sleep."

They lay back down, but they watched as she squirmed a shift down over her nightdress. Shaking without knowing why, she knelt on the bricks before the hearth and stacked birch logs on the embers. It wasn't that cold-she'd thought to let the embers do for the night-but she felt the sudden need for the comfort of a fire, the assurance of its light.

From beside the hearth, she retrieved their only oil lamp. With a curl of flaming birch bark, she quickly lit the lamp wick and then replaced the chimney. The children were still watching.

Nora bent and kissed little Brace on the cheek. She smoothed back Bethany's hair and kissed her daughter's forehead. It tasted like the dirt she'd been in all day trying to help carry rocks from the field before they plowed and planted it. She could only carry little ones, but it was a help.

"Back to sleep, my babies," she said in a soothing voice. "Pa just went to the privy. I'm only taking him a light to see his way back. You know how your pa stubs his toes in the night and then curses us for it. Back to sleep, the both of you. Everything is all right. Just takin' your pa a lamp."

Nora stuck her bare feet into her cold, wet, muddy boots, which had been set by the door. She didn't want to stub her toes and then have to work with a lame foot. She fussed with a shawl, settling it around her shoulders, fixing it good and right before she tied it. She feared to open the door. She was in near tears with not wanting to open that door to the night.

Evil was out there. She knew it. She felt it.

"Burn you, Julian," she muttered under her breath. "Burn you crisp for making me go outside tonight."

She wondered, if she found Julian sitting in the privy, if he'd curse her foolish woman ways. He cursed her ways, sometimes. Said she worried over nothing for no good end. Said nothing ever came of her worrying so why'd she do it? She didn't do it to get herself cursed at by him, that sure was the truth of it.

As she lifted the latch, she told herself how she wanted very much for him to be out in the privy and to curse her tonight, and then to put his arm around her shoulders and tell her to hush her tears and come back to bed with him. She shushed the chickens when they complained at her as she opened the door.

There was no moon: The overcast sky was as black as the Keeper's shadow. Nora shuffled quickly along the packed dirt path to the privy house. With a shaking hand, she rapped on the door.

"Julian? Julian, you in there? Please, Julian, if you're in there, say so. Julian, I'm begging you, don't trick with me, not tonight."