The
next day, in the early morning, when Meg woke beside Deirdre, she had
little time to lie abed, for Deirdre was eager to rise and shine. Meg
was tempted to keep her eyes closed in sheer defiance. But that would
have been rude.
And besides which, when Deirdre gave her a peck on the cheek, she
vaguely recalled a moment when the woman had picked up the entire
mattress and dumped her out of it. So there was no point in wasting
time.
Yet after rising, there was a point in taking just a little time
to look her girlfriend in the eye, to caress her cheek,
to remember – yes, there was the memory of doing such a thing, long
ago. And recently. Many times.
Deirdre raised an eyebrow.
But Meg turned away, unwilling to go as far as she could imagine.
Some things were too forward, right now. Oh, sure, she fell asleep in
Deirdre's arms every night, but some things were still too much to
venture.
Deirdre tapped her on the shoulder.
When Meg whirled around, she was greeted by a kiss on the cheek,
and a kiss on the nose, and a kiss on the forehead, and each of these
brought forth a memory of similar kisses, long ago. She grinned.
"Someday I will ask for a kiss on the lips. But...not today."
Deirdre pouted. "Do you want to have any fun at all?"
"I want to get going with whatever is making you rise too
eagerly," signed Meg. "And we can get it over with."
"To the forest," signed Deirdre. She looked around,
evidently not finding what she desired. "Fia's out and about
already, then?"
Fia stuck her head in the doorway. "Waiting for you
slowpokes," she said aloud. "Come on, it's late autumn and
we're wasting daylight."
"She appears to be learning patience," signed Meg.
But when she stepped out the door of the roundhouse, Fia was
already out the village gate and speeding away. "It occurs to
me," signed Meg, "that we never asked that girl how she
learned to run so fast."
"I didn't ask you either," signed Deirdre. "Maybe
it has something to do with great desire. As for me, I know precisely
what I want, I do not want to waste any more time this morning, and I
will -- race you!" Then she was off like a shot, with Meg close
on her heels.
So they came to the riverbank in the forest, amidst the tall bending ferns and the great hanging lichens and the twisting limbs of oaks, where Fia was hopping
up and down impatiently upon a wide carpet of thick moss. "You figured out how to teach us," signed Fia. "Teach."
Meg gave her a pointed look. "What is the magic word?"
she signed.
Fia sighed. "Please?"
"There you go."
"I hardly need prompting," signed Deirdre. She grabbed a
stick and drew some lines in the mud. "Perfect," she
signed, "it isn't too icy yet. We still have time. Alright, Meg,
let’s pick up where we left off. Would you please make the ee
sound?"
Again Meg sang, "Eeeeeeeee."
Deirdre drew some more lines in the mud. A vertical line with
three horizontal lines extending off one side. "This is that
sound. This letter is – " she raised her left hand with the
fingers curled in and thumb curled under.
"Let's call it ee," said Fia aloud.
"Our daughter is quick on the draw," signed Deirdre. "Now, pick another word sound."
And so it went, through all the sounds of the language that Meg
knew. As Meg would help Deirdre link a sound to a letter, Deirdre
would in turn link it to a specific handsign. She called this "finger
spelling".
And then when that was done, it was time to string these things –
these letters – into words. So Deirdre would draw letters in the
mud, one next to the other, and Meg and Fia would, very slowly,
pronounce each letter one by one. Then they would recite the string a
little bit faster, and a little faster, until eventually it sounded
less like a string of letters, and more like a word. Or at least it
sounded close enough that someone might not notice the difference, if
they were hard of hearing and slightly befuddled by old age.
Some of these words, Meg could pronounce easily, because they had
few letters. Others of them took long enough that the sun had visibly
shifted in the sky by the time she was done, and the shadows had
lengthened.
Fia, meanwhile, managed everything much more quickly.
"I've got no dignity to get in the way," said Fia.
"How wonderful for you," signed Meg.
"Good work for today," signed Deirdre. "As for how
make this method of transcription portable, I'm still trying to
figure out how I would make paper without some kind of simple
machine. And supplies of rags."
"Maybe skip the paper," signed Fia. "Maybe just scratch with a knife on some bark. Or -- hang on." She picked up a large flat piece of
slate from the mud, and a pebble. She scratched at the slate, leaving
faint marks, just visible enough that Meg could see they were
letters. "There you go," said Fia, "portable and easy
to find anywhere."
"Aren't you a clever little child," signed Deidre, and
then she picked up Fia and kissed her on the cheek.
And then she set her down, and Fia was racing toward the village,
slate and pebble in hand.
"Are we sure we should be telling anyone else about this just
yet?" signed Meg.
"Better sooner than later," signed Deirdre. "If the
gods hear about this, we need to make sure the concept is spread far
enough that they can't get rid of it."
"If," signed Meg. "When you sign 'if' it seems like
you really mean 'when'. Are you saying goodbye to Fia already? Are
you saying goodbye to me? I'm not following you to the underworld
early."
"Good!" signed Deirdre. "That is exactly as I
requested! Thank you!"
"Just answer the question."
Deirdre sighed. "I know I'm taking a huge risk. I know I'm
walking a fine line. I know you're walking it with me. I don't expect
the gods to learn precisely what we're doing, but…we have to be
emotionally prepared for the worst. So I don't mean to say goodbye.
I'm just getting ready in case I have to."
"And all for…what? The sake of knowledge?"
"The sake of freedom," signed Deirdre.
To this, Meg had no reply. Nor did Deirdre say anything, as they
marched back to the village.
Yet as they reached their roundhouse, Meg signed, "You would
do so much for your people, even if the price is your life. Just like
what I did for you, didn't I?"
"We are alike in spirit," signed Deirdre. "Perhaps
that is why we deserted our respective armies, when we met. Each of
us understood very well what the other desired."
"And what about now?" signed Meg. "Do you
understand what I want now?"
"To keep me alive as long as possible," signed Deirdre.
"Do you understand what I desire now?"
"You wish that your people would be politically unbound,"
signed Meg. "And in this, am I secondary to your grand schemes?"
"You are my partner in all things," signed Deirdre.
"So you assume."
Deirdre shrugged. "I will admit, it's easy to assume. I
remember when that was precisely what you were, no question about it.
For you, though…you are re-building something. You are trying to
re-build. It's like I'm atop a high hill and you're struggling up the
slope."
"I did ask to start over," signed Meg. "If you
don't want to come down to my level, throw me a damn rope."
"I think the metaphor is getting away from us," signed
Deirdre. "Look. It's not specifically political freedom I'm
aiming for here. It's the freedom that comes from knowledge, with political freedom as a natural outgrowth. I learned so much in the
underworld. I'm not allowed to tell anyone even a small fraction of
it. If I could tell, then maybe we could all know enough for our
hearts to be free. Maybe we could build things that take us where we
would go. But…I can't. The materials and required skillsets aren’t
there for the vast majority of what I was shown, much less the
assembly instructions. So I do this the long way, the slow way. I
will teach everyone to read and to write, and the rest will come in
time, sooner than…than…never mind."
"What do you mean, never mind?"
There was a rustle and the snapping of twigs from the underbrush,
startling Meg. Tally stepped out of a set of tall ferns. "If she
were to explain that part she'd be giving the game away so loudly
that the Lord of the Underworld would have her in his fist before you
could blink."
"I'm surprised you're not getting more angry at me,"
signed Deirdre.
"You have some kind of caution," signed Tally. "I'm
not going to help you learn to make paper either." He winked a
few times and then entered the roundhouse.
Deirdre met Meg’s eyes. "I have one question for you."
Meg raised her eyebrows, as if to invite Deirdre to continue.
"What exactly do you want, for your world?"
The wind picked up.
"Freedom," signed Meg. "And great adventure. As we had, once upon a time."
"You're ready for another one then?"
"When Fia is grown?" signed Meg. "When I can be
more certain my people are safe? Yes."
Deirdre looked apprehensive. "What if…what if the adventure
I am getting us into makes your people more free but less stable?"
"Then I would say it will be quite the challenge to sort that
all out," signed Meg.
"And we will be side by side?"
"Until the end of our days," signed Meg.
Then they followed Tally into the roundhouse.