Drought
old friends, watching to make sure Mother puts only a single drop on each person’s tongue.
    “Just be steady and try not to shake,” I say. “I will hold you up.”
    Only three people in front of us now: Boone’s aunt, Mary, one of the oldest but without a palsy. She gets her Water. Next comes her brother John. Darwin doesn’t pay much attention to him, or to Gen Duncan, when she takes her turn. He’s looking at Ellie, sharp eyes like a crow watching from a low-hanging branch.
    Then it is our turn. We take one more step forward.
    “You first,” Ellie says.
    I shake my head. I don’t need the Water. But she pokes me in the back, suddenly strong. I open my mouth and the Water drops on my tongue. It doesn’t taste special—it’s just like drinking from the Lake.
    Next comes Ellie. Her mouth opens, trembling, and I gently tip her head back. Mother dips the dropper in the bottle.
    Darwin grips Mother’s arm. “Stop.”
    Her body goes stiff. She stares at the meaty hand wrapped around her arm.
    Then he looks at me. “Let go of her.”
    Ellie’s body is shaking under my hands. I let them slide away, slowly, imagining leaving my strength behind to help her.
    “You were sleeping in the woods yesterday,” Darwin says.
    “It was only for a moment.” Her voice is strong. If I close my eyes, it’s easy to imagine Ellie as I have known her for my entire life: strong-bodied, confident, never needing help from anyone.
    “And the day before?” he asks. “I saw you lying in the shade then too.”
    Now Ellie is sagging to one side. I nudge her with my shoulder to set her upright. She lets out a low moan, her strong voice leached away.
    Darwin turns to Mother. “Is it hard to see your mother dying?”
    Of course Ellie is not her mother—her mother, my grandmother, was taken by fever before my mother could walk. But Darwin knows we love Ellie like our own, and she us.
    Mother does not answer. Instead she reaches out to lay her hand on Ellie’s shoulder. Darwin slaps it away.
    “The old Toad must pass a test,” Darwin says.
    “A test?” Mother’s eyebrows twitch high.
    “God tested man, now man tests Toad.” Darwin’s broad smile tells me he’s very pleased with himself.
    He’s never done this before. Either he lets the old person have the Water, or he doesn’t. Then he makes us hurry into the woods for a harvesting.
    “No tests.” Mother lets out a huff of air. “Services are sacred. Let me finish the Communion first.”
    “You don’t tell me no, Sula Prosser.” Darwin takes the butt of his rifle and slams it on the floor, just an inch from Mother’s boot.
    Her face tightens, but she does not flinch. She keeps her eyes steady on him.
    This time his rifle lands square on her toes. Someone in the Congregation lets out a low cry. But not one of us stands or stops him. It’s better that way—but it’s not easy. I squeeze my fingers together and stare down, away, to stop myself from saying something.
    We have been living this way for a very long time. I should be better at accepting this. But it gets harder every day.
    “Please let her take the Communion first,” Mother mutters.
    She does not usually beg. But I know why: the Water will help smooth away the shakes and help Ellie to stand tall. It might be enough to pass any test the Overseer chooses for her.
    But without the Water, she doesn’t have much of a chance.
    “I don’t think so.” Darwin motions to the back of the room. “Get a broom, boy.”
    The new Overseer sets his gun in a corner and goes to the closet. He keeps his eyes low, staring at the tops of his boots, as he walks to the front.
    Darwin points at me next. “And you’ll help.”
    He arranges the new Overseer and me, one at each end of the broom. Our eyes meet for a second; a flash of heat makes me look away fast.
    Darwin lifts the broom until it’s as high as my shoulder.
    “Now, Toad.” Darwin lets out a bark of laughter. “Limbo.”
    “What is limbo?” Ellie’s head

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