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  My legs begin to ache, so I sit down and stretch them out. The ground is dirty but it’s dry enough to brush from my skirt.

  I peer through the glass, but I can see no one. I could sleep in here. Close my eyes and sleep until evening meal. The warm, stale air mingles with my thoughts, but it doesn’t help make sense of them. About how I feel when Ellis is close. But how I hate his Outside mind and the questions he has brought. The spittles of anger growing in Papa S. Kate in the kitchen with Kindred John.

  A fly is buzzing around my head. It’s caught in here, beating its wings to try to get to the outside. Slowly, I stand up and I quietly open the door, but the fly doesn’t seem to see the way out. Gently, I rest my hand next to it on the glass. The fly calms, hesitates, and then walks onto my palm. Inch by inch, I move to the glass door, lift my hand and set it free.

  “Got you,” Jack says behind me. He has his arms around my waist and swings me in a circle.

  “That’s not fair,” I laugh.

  “It’s very fair,” he says, releasing me. “Now you have to help me look.”

  He takes my hand and we run to the blackberry hedge that circles the field. We duck down low and I have to pull my skirt up to my knees so that we can creep along unseen. When I begin to laugh, Jack holds a finger to my lips and silences me.

  “If we do half the woods each, we’ll find people in there,” he whispers.

  And so we separate as we reach the edge of the trees, walking slowly and quietly away from each other, hunting the others down.

  I find no one. Not by the lake, not near the worship circle. But there is a noise by an ash tree. Silently I creep up to it, bend down low, and reach my arm around the trunk. I feel something and as I move around to see, there’s a pain on my hand. Now something on my face, on my arm. They are bees, huddled around a wild hive. I blink and they swarm at me.

  Suddenly they’re in my hair, down my back, on my lips. They’re in my clothes, stinging and stinging my skin. Stinging my eyelids and my bare legs.

  I’m running and screaming as I try to brush them off me, but they stick to me. It feels like hundreds of them. Somewhere there is Jack and he’s pushing them away, but there are too many of them under my clothes, stinging me. So I pull at my shirt, rip it over my head.

  Rachel runs from the house and pulls me into the kitchen. There are bees tangled in my hair. Jack pulls them off, shakes them from his thumb.

  “Run her a bath,” Rachel orders him.

  We’re at the sink and she is holding my arms under cold water. The bees have hurt me. She runs a wet cloth on my face, over my eyes.

  Kate and Ellis run in.

  “Get me some nettles,” Rachel tells them. “Bring them to the bathroom. Quickly.”

  She’s taking me upstairs. My body is shaking. Kindred Smith comes to us, but Rachel moves him away.

  Steam is rising from the bath. Jack leaves the room. Rachel takes off my skirt and underwear, as I hold my arms wide.

  “Step into the water,” I hear her say. It’s hot. There are the stings. I sit down, feel the water. I can’t stop shaking. The bees that I love have done this to me.

  Kate is here and she pushes nettles into the bath. They float, little clumps of green, as she holds my hand and Rachel presses the flannel gently to my neck.

  The sharpness of the stings turns to tiny little thuds that cover my body. Tiny little aches pinching into my blood.

  “Shh,” Kate says as she gently strokes my hair back from my face.

  I hear the door open and her hand stops. I open my eyes. Papa S. is standing here. I am naked in the bath and he’s looking at me. My hands go to cover my bare flesh.

  Kate reaches for a towel, but Papa S. stops her. “Leave us,” he says.

  Kate doesn’t move. “I need to stay with Pearl,” she says. “She is in shock.”

  “Kate,” Rachel says. She takes Kate’s hand from mine and pulls her up. Papa S. kisses his palm and puts it on Rachel’s forehead. Her smile is bright.

  “I’ll wait outside,” Kate says as Rachel leads her from the room.

  Papa S. steps forward until he’s standing by the bath, looking down at me. I do not move my arms. I want him to say something, for his words to make it better.

  “The bees stung you for a reason,” he eventually says. “They were trying to stab away the rotten core that is growing within you.”

  Rotten core? The bees think that I am rotten inside? I feel tears creeping to the edge of my eyes, my throat burning. I want to ask him what I have done, but no words come out. Perhaps I already know.

  “Mother Nature told me that they would do it,” Papa S. continues. “She has been watching you. They have been watching you.”

  My skin begins to shiver in the hot water.

  “It is a warning. Next time it will be worse.” Papa S. turns. I think that he is going, but then he moves back to me, kneels by the side of the bath. “We all love you, Pearl,” he says. He kisses his palm and stretches it toward me. He pushes it through the water until it rests on my naked stomach. His skin on my skin. He holds it there and I do not move.

  He holds it there and he makes me look into his eyes.

  “We love you, Pearl,” he repeats. Then he stands up, his fingers dripping wet. I don’t watch as he walks away. But I hear the click of the door as he closes it behind him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  I’m working slower than usual as I dig the potatoes from the ground. The bee stings on my palm rub against the handle of the spade, and those under my clothes still feel sore. They remind me. Next time it will be worse.

  I’m trying to hide my thoughts in the shapes of the trees when I see him walking up the driveway. He’s on his own, slowly making his way toward the house.

  Even from here, I recognize him. I know it’s Simon, the boy who spoke to me last week at the market. The boy who asked after Kate. She hasn’t noticed him and I watch as he comes slowly closer. I look around. There are no Kindreds to see him. But he shouldn’t be here. I have to get him away.

  I am meant to be digging up potatoes, but now I put down my spade and go to Kate, close enough so no one else will hear.

  “Kate?” I whisper. She looks up at me. Her hair is tied back from her face, which is streaked with mud from her working hands. “When I was at the market, someone asked for you.”

  “Who?”

  “Simon,” I say, and her face shows me she knows.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?” she asks.

  “I don’t know. I forgot.” Did I?

  She shields her eyes from the sun. “What did he say?”

  “He asked for you, Kate. And I think he is here now.” I look quickly toward the driveway and Kate looks too.

  So much passes through her face in these seconds. She is happy. She is terrified.

  She looks around us. Is Papa S. watching from somewhere in the house?

  “Has anyone else seen him?” she asks.

  “I don’t know,” I say. He’s still far away. And everyone is busy working. “You must make him go, Kate.”

  But she’s not listening to me. “I have to speak to him,” Kate says. “If anyone asks, don’t tell them where I’ve gone.” She drops her spade and runs down the driveway, toward the walking figure. Her hand goes to pull the ribbon and her hair falls free. I want to shout to her to come back, but I don’t and she doesn’t.

  She reaches him. Then they go quickly to the side and disappear behind the trees.

  The wind whispers to me as I dig the spade into the earth. But it doesn’t bring me their conversation. How can she be taking so long? I pull at a potato, the dirt snagging under my nails. There is a small thud as I put it into my basket, and the scrape again as I dig down.

  When I look up, Papa S. is standing on the front porch. He sees me, kisses his palm and faces it toward me. I should feel happy that he is here, but my stomach seems to fill with the earth at my feet. He’s looking toward the trees, the trees where Kate and Simon are. />
  I look away and rub the skin of a potato clean. Papa S. is walking. He is heading down the driveway.

  I can’t warn her. There’s nothing I can do. What if he doesn’t know and I run to her and call out? He gets closer, his hair catching in the wind.

  Move, Kate. Move.

  Hide, Simon.

  In the moment that I look up, Kate is there. She has come out from the trees alone. She goes to Papa S. and laughs, pointing to the sky. Papa S. has his back to me but he is motionless, while Kate is animated, reaching to him.

  Papa S. must say something, because suddenly everything changes. Kate’s movements stop, and her confidence slides away.

  Then Papa S. steps forward and takes her hand. Out there, on the driveway, Papa S. takes Kate by the hand. She has never been his Companion before. Is now her time?

  I try not to be jealous. I try to be happy for her. But how can I have got it so wrong, when Kate gets it so right? They are facing me now as they walk toward the house, so I get my spade and chip it into the earth, searching for the flesh of another potato.

  I can sense them walk close by, but I won’t look up. My spade scrapes and I will not look up, not until I know that they have gone.

  And when I do, I see the shape of Simon. He’s keeping close to the trees and he’s running. Running away from us, away from Kate. I watch his back, fresh from the Outside, until he turns a corner in the driveway and he is gone.

  Evening meal is inside. The nights are creeping earlier and it’s too cold outside to eat. We are all ready and we are waiting. It’s noisy, with laughter and the children and the talking. Ruby and Bobby balance spoons on their noses. Ellis is sitting next to me, but he’s not smiling.

  “Where’s Kate?” he asks.

  “With Papa S.,” I say, because she is. I feel proud for her and my eyes challenge the doubt in his.

  “Why?” he asks, just as the door opens and Papa S. is standing there with Kate. Their hands are linked and in her other hand, Kate holds a flower up to her lips. She looks beautiful and I want to rush up to her, because for years she has waited for this moment. For as long as I can remember, we have wished to be his Companion. And now is her time.

  They walk slowly to their place, side by side. Papa S. is wearing a cloak of the deepest green and I can hear the sound of Kate’s skirt rustling as she moves. When they reach their places, we all stand up, the scraping of the chairs on the floor breaking the silence. Papa S. kisses his palm and raises it skyward. We copy him, but I don’t take my eyes from Kate. I want her to look at me so we can smile together and know that she has made it. But she doesn’t look my way and when she sits down and takes the flower from her lips, her face shocks me. There’s a defiance brighter than I’ve ever seen in her before.

  “Begin your thanks,” Papa S. says. We tip our faces and I close my eyes and I try to thank Nature, but all I can see in my mind is Kate, on what should be the happiest day of her life.

  “Begin to eat,” Papa S. says. The noise of the clatter of knives on plates and the talking and laughing starts again.

  “When did that happen?” Ellis asks under his breath. He reaches over me and cuts his knife directly into the butter. The bread is still warm and the butter melts as he spreads it.

  “Today,” I answer him quietly. “I saw him take her hand in the driveway.”

  “It shouldn’t be allowed,” Ellis says. He bites into his piece of bread, rips some off with his teeth.

  What does he mean? This is what Kate wants. But when I look at her sitting there, picking at her bread, why do I feel doubt?

  “He should choose the older women,” Ellis says. So that’s it. He wants his mother to be Papa S.’s Companion.

  “He’ll choose Linda soon,” I say, but he just crushes the bread in his hand as he stares at me.

  “I don’t want him anywhere near my mother.”

  I’m so shocked I look away. My hand is shaking slightly as I reach for my glass to swallow down some water. Has anyone else heard? Next to him, Jack is laughing with Heather and the voices around the table are loud and joyous. But not Ellis. And I think Papa S. has noticed and Kindred Smith too, as I catch them looking at him.

  “How’s the engine work going?” I ask. Anything to wipe away his last words.

  “How can you stand it, Pearl?” he asks. I don’t answer. The butter from our cows tastes thick on my soft bread. “Because I don’t know if I can much longer,” he says. He looks away from me, jabs at the crumbs on his plate with his thumb. His anger is in his eyes, in his hands, in his whole body and there’s no way he can hide it.

  “Do you want to go for a walk after evening meal?” I ask him. In the air outside, Nature will heal him and wash away these strange feelings that are taking hold. He looks at me, more calmly now.

  “Yes,” is all he says, and it’s time for us to clear the empty breadboards to make space for the stew that Heather and I have prepared.

  The moon is already strong in the sky by the time we’ve finished clearing up, although it’s not too dark. Jack is taking food to Elizabeth. I worry that she’s still not eating enough. The fever seems to have settled into her bones. But Linda barely leaves her side and although she’s not getting better, I don’t think that she is getting any worse.

  Ellis and I have put our coats on, and I can wear socks and my shoes now that my feet ache less from the stings. We walk together through the meadow, through the hole in the hedge and across the fields.

  “You didn’t tell me how the engines are going,” I ask. I know he’s proud of what he’s been learning.

  “It’s fine,” he says. His hand brushes mine as we walk.

  “Just fine?” I look at him and smile. “Jack says you’ve picked it up way quicker than he ever has.” But Ellis just shrugs.

  We’re quiet again as we reach the orchard. Up close, you can see the trees are heavy with their fruit. The children spend their days collecting fallen apples, filling basket upon basket that now sit out in the hall.

  We walk to the farthest tree in the orchard and Ellis starts to climb. So I follow him. It’s a strong tree and holds our feet and hands. The branches form a seat for us, but we have to sit close.

  “Do you really want to leave?” I ask. I hadn’t wanted to. I had wanted to just show Ellis the beauty around us. To remind him how amazing Seed is, and to make him love it all over again. But I’ve said the words now, and I can’t take them back.

  “Yes,” he says, looking down at his hands. “More and more, I want to leave.”

  I hold my breath in the almost-darkness. Hearing him say the words. Knowing that he’d want to leave all this behind. And I don’t understand it.

  “But Mom won’t go. She says she’s got a reason for living now.” He laughs bitterly. “And I’d never leave Sophie here.”

  “But how can you want to leave?”

  He lifts his face and looks away, across the black fields toward the lights of our home. “There’s evil here,” he says.

  His words stop my heart.

  “Then I think you should go,” I say. I feel my words bubbling up and I can’t stop them. “Because you have absolutely no right to come here, and after all that we’ve given you …” I don’t want to cry. I’m climbing down the tree, because I’ve got to get away from him. My hair catches on a branch, but I yank it free and almost fall the whole last bit as I jump on the grass and start to run.

  “Pearl,” Ellis calls after me. I won’t stop. “Pearl!”

  I run through the orchard, the trees protecting me. I hear Ellis running closer and he’s quick, too quick for me. He has my arm and he’s pulling me.

  “No,” I yell at him. I’ve never heard myself like this. Neither has the air, neither has the sky.

  “Pearl, stop,” Ellis says, his voice calm, but his grip on my arm is tight.

  I stop and I turn and I’m hurting inside, just looking at him. But I pull my arm free. “You’re the evil one,” I shout. “This is what growing up on the Outs
ide does. You should go back there. Leave us alone,” I say and I start to walk away.

  Ellis is just a few steps behind me. I won’t say any more. I can’t say any more. “Pearl,” he says and hearing his voice makes me want to cry, because he is my friend, he is part of our family and he wants to go and I want him to go, but if he does it will shatter my heart. “I’m sorry,” he says and he catches up with me and gently puts his hand on my arm.

  “Don’t you realize that it’s the Outside that has made you this way?” I say. “Give yourself properly to us, Ellis, and you’ll be happy.”

  Ellis takes a breath in. He runs both his hands through his hair, but his curls fall close to his eyes again. “Can’t you see, Pearl?”

  “See what?” I ask, staring at him, willing him to look into my eyes, willing him to have my happiness. Because I would give it all to him.

  He looks up at me. Then he reaches out for my hand and I let him take it. “Nothing,” he says quietly. “Nothing.” He looks down. Gently he moves his thumb over my thumb. I feel his skin on my own.

  “Are you really going to leave us?” I ask. I don’t want to hear his answer.

  “No,” he replies. He looks into my eyes. “I won’t leave you here, Pearl. And I can’t leave my mom and Sophie.”

  “They wouldn’t want to go. They’re happy at Seed. And you’re happy here too, you’ve just forgotten, that’s all,” I say. Ellis reaches out and touches my hair. A shiver runs through me and I close my eyes.

  A twig cracks somewhere in the darkness. My eyes open and Ellis and I look. He drops my hand and I can hear the sound of someone walking away. Running.

  Someone was here. We both know it.

  “Who was it?” I whisper.

  “I don’t know,” Ellis replies. “But we haven’t done anything wrong, Pearl.”

  Haven’t we? His voice sounds scared.

  “I want to go back to the house,” I say.

  The night feels different now. The air is cold on my face. Back at Seed, everything will feel better. In the warmth of our family, everything will make sense.