A Northern Light by Jennifer Donnelly Read Free Book Online Page B

asked.
    "With Daisy. Who's calving. And Abby. Who isn't. Calving, I mean." I wished I could stitch my mouth shut.
    There were more questions. What was Pa using for fertilizer. How many acres was he going to clear. Was he planting any potatoes this spring. What about buckwheat. And wasn't it hard for him to run the farm alone.
    "He's not alone. He has me," I said.
    "But you're still in school, ain't you? Why aren't you out yet, anyway? School's for children and you're what ... fifteen?"
    "Sixteen."
    "Where's Lawton? Ain't he coming back?"
    "You writing a column for the paper, Royal?" Lou asked.
    Royal didn't laugh. I did, though. He was quiet after that. Two hours later, he'd finished the field entirely. We sat down for a rest, and I gave him a piece of the johnnycake I'd brought and poured him switchel from a stone jug. I gave pieces to Tommy and Lou and Beth as well.
    Royal watched Tommy eat his piece. "Hubbards is always hungry, ain't they? Can't never seem to fill 'em up," he said. "Why you here, Tom?"
    Tommy looked at his johnnycake, crumbly and yellow in his dirty hands. "Like to help Mattie, I guess. Like to help her pa."
    "Whyn't you help your own mamma plow her field?"
    "We ain't got a plow," Tommy mumbled, a red flush creeping up his neck.
    "Guess you don't need one, do you? She's always got someone plowing her field, ain't she, Tom?"
    "Cripes, Royal, what's Emmie's field to you?" I said, not liking the hard look in his eyes or the miserable, cornered one in Tommy's. The Loomis boys were always agitating with the Hubbards, like a pack of hounds after possums. Lawton had gotten between the younger ones and Tommy on many occasions.
    Royal shrugged, then took a bite of his own cake. "This is good," he said. I was about to tell him that Abby made it, but then his honey-colored eyes were on me, not the johnnycake, and the hardness in them was gone and I didn't.
    He looked at me closely, his head on an angle, and for a second I had the funniest feeling that he was going to open my jaws and look at my teeth or pick up my foot and rap the bottom of it. I heard a shout and saw Pa waving from the barn. He walked up to us and sat down. I gave him my glass of switchel. "Daisy had a bull calf," he said wearily, and then he smiled.
    My pa was so handsome when he smiled, with his eyes as blue as cornflowers and his beautiful white teeth. He hardly did anymore, and it felt like a hard rain letting up. Like Mamma might come up from hanging wash and join us. Like Lawton might come out of the woods any second, his fishing pole over his shoulder.
    Beth, Lou, and Tommy chased off to see the new calf. Pa finished the switchel and I poured him some more. Switchel is easier to drink than plain water when you are hot and thirsty. Mixing a little vinegar, ginger, and maple syrup into the water helps it to digest.
    Pa looked at Royal, his shirt soaked with sweat, and my hands, dirty from the stones, and Pleasant unhitched, and put it all together. "I'm obliged to you," he said. "It's a son's work, planting. Not a daughter's. Thought I had a son to do it."
    "Pa," I said quietly.
    "Don't understand why he left. Couldn't tear me away from land like this," Royal said.
    I bristled at that. I was angry at Lawton for leaving, too. But Royal was not family and therefore had no right to speak against him. Thing of it was, I didn't understand why my brother had left, either. I knew they'd had a fight, he and Pa. I saw them going at one another in the barn. First fists and then Pa had gone for his peavey. Then Lawton had run into the house, thrown his things into an old flour sack, and marched out again. I'd run after him. Me and Lou both, but Pa stopped us.
    "Let him go," he'd said, blocking our way down the porch steps.
    "But, Pa, you can't just let him walk out. It's the dead of winter," I pleaded. "Where's he going to go?"
    "I said let him go! Go back in the house, go on!" He pushed us inside, slammed the door, and locked it, as if he were afraid we