Blue Birds by Caroline Starr Rose Page B

sleep.
    â€œFetch Mrs. Archard,” Father says,
    before he even lights a candle.
    I fly to the Archard home,
    bang at the door.
    A slit of light grows as it opens.
    â€œThe baby!” I shout.
    So long I’ve waited,
    it is impossible to believe
    today I’ll truly be a sister.
    Behind me,
    Mrs. Archard marches,
    pushes past me at our threshold,
    snatches the candle from Father’s hand.
    Mother leans against her pillows,
    tells me to leave with Father.
    Through the darkness,
    birds trill their morning songs,
    and Father ushers me to his work shed,
    where we sit by the fire,
    enjoy the luxury of a bit of tea.
    â€œI was almost a man
    when my brother was born.
    But when you came,
    your uncle Samuel was a boy,
    and he stayed forever by your side.”
    It warms me to think
    I might be to our baby
    as Uncle was to me.
    Hours later,
    Mrs. Archard finds us
    beside the glowing coals,
    her face as stern as always.
    â€œYou have a son,” she says.

Alis
    He is pure sweetness,
    soft as dough left to rise
    by the fire,
    swaddled in a blanket
    and in his cradle laid.
    He is all sighing,
    squeaking,
    blinking,
    a marvelous creation,
    my precious brother, Samuel,
    tiny babe.

KIMI
    Mother,
    I feel
    the emptiness you carry
    every time you pull me close,
    the ache that speaks of your missing one,
    Alawa,
    the longing to touch her again.
    I should attend to you
    as two daughters would,
    yet so swiftly I deceive you
    to meet my friend.

Alis
    As Mrs. Dare and baby Virginia have done,
    Mother and Samuel must both rest,
    and since I’ve had a bit of bread
    and Father works at the forge,
    I kiss the baby’s head,
    encourage Mother to sleep.
    I watch until their eyes flutter closed,
    escape outside into the sun
    to breathe deep the salty breeze.
    From post to post I wander,
    hoping to find a guard who’s missing,
    distracted from his work.
    At the station near the garden,
    I see Manteo within.
    Our eyes meet.
    He inclines his head toward the wall,
    turns his back to me.
    He gives me permission
    to cross over?
    He said it was dangerous
    for me to be alone.
    Out there
    where a man could wait,
    his arrow aimed to strike,
    out there
    where Kimi waits for me.
    Does he signal
    because he knows the way is clear?
    In haste I go,
    before I can change my mind,
    before anyone might see.

KIMI
    How she talks,
    her blue eyes dancing,
    holds her arms as though
    cradling something dear.
    A baby?
    My memory revives.
    Her mother was with child
    when they first came.
    What a gift this little one will be.

KIMI
    It’s always here we meet.
    So much Alis hasn’t seen.
    â€œCome.”
    I grab her hand,
    pull her with me.
    We run
    past thick-limbed oaks,
    the beech and ash and maple trees.
    I show her maquowoc
    hanging from his tail,
    the earth below, his sky above,
    the sweet goodness of the strawberry,
    at the shore,
    digging down,
    how cool the sand can be.
    Eyes closed,
    Alis smiles,
    her toes burrowed deep.

Alis
KIMI

What a world,
this place
Kimi’s opened to me.
We sit together,
content with silence,
satisfied
in knowing the other’s near.

Alis
    The breeze turns menacing,
    treetops bend,
    creak like our ship tossed on the waves
    those months at sea.

Alis
    That evening,
    Mother serves a watery pottage
    while I hold sweet Samuel to my shoulder,
    kiss him when the cottage shudders
    with the lashing wind and rain.
    Father does not eat.
    â€œWhat is it, Dyonis?” Mother says.
    She takes his hand in hers.
    â€œThe Governor’s assistants have talked.
    We’ve asked him to leave with Ferdinando
    once all our goods are onshore.”
    I cannot believe what Father is saying.
    Governor White must go
    With our mutinous pilot?
    The man who’s anchored here
    for these five weeks,
    who’s been no help
    removing our possessions?
    Who’s offered us no shelter
    in the midst of our enemies?
    The words spill from me.
    â€œYou want the Governor to desert us.”
    Samuel’s face reddens.
    He