I say.
“Dirt?” He looks alarmed.
“Like mushrooms. Or a fire that’s just gone out.”
“That’s myrrh.”
I nod. “It’s nice.”
His face goes solemn. “Bianca has become attached to you.”
“She is dear.” My voice breaks.
“I don’t understand you.”
“I use plain talk. It’s you who is hard to understand.”
“I’ve never known anyone from the
popolo
—the ordinary people. No one except servants.”
“I’ve never known a noble.”
“Even in a
frate
’s robe you’re fair.”
My mouth goes dry. “My mamma used to say that. She believed it.”
“I am more than twice your age. Do you think of me as an old man?”
I shake my head.
His hand comes toward me. He touches my cheek so gently, it takes a second to know that’s what has happened. I cry.
“Tears? What do you feel now?”
The image of Mamma talking about crabs…how sometimes nothing else could satisfy her, and when a craving came, she was willing to go into the water she feared so much. I look in this man’s eyes. Everything feels simple. And dangerous.
“Please tell me.”
“I crave you.”
“Plain talk.” His voice trembles. “I could get used to plain talk.”
M arin stands at the bow with spread legs as the long, narrow boat glides toward the island he calls Murano. It’s the glassblowers’ island. Antonin, another giant who arrived this morning to take us away, stands at the stern, using a long oar to propel and steer us. Bianca sits beside me under the little canopy. None of them seems anxious. I press my lips together.
I am still in a brother’s robe—Marin threw my smock in the fire before I could protest. But this robe has advantages: if necessary, I can pull the hood up and sink down inside as small as I can manage. The others have no way of hiding, though. No one can fail to notice their hugeness. I am ready to fight, for their sake and mine, but it seems we’d be much safer if we all had a way of hiding. I stare as the lighthouse ahead grows larger.
Bianca laughs. “Have you never been in a gondola as skinny as this one?”
I look at her. “A what?”
She points at my hand. “You’re gripping the side so tight. But this gondola is very steady. Aunt Agnola says it’s as safe as any old wide gondola, and she’s afraid of everything. Let go.”
I fold my hands in my lap.
Bianca puts her hands on top of mine and sits sideways facing me. “I was so excited when Papà had this gondola made. All the noble families are getting the new shape. And lots of ladies can fit under the canopy at the same time. Antonin will ferry you to afternoon parties with Aunt Agnola and me and the Contarini girls and their mamma. They live near us. If you walk, you have to cross three little bridges to get to their palace. We love to hear things like that about the city since we’re never allowed to walk the alleys. The Contarini boat has sea horses engraved in the iron at the front. It’s much fancier than ours. The girls love to say that.”
I fix my eyes on hers. “Do you want to pinch them when they say that?”
She whispers, “Sometimes I think of pinching.” We look away, trying not to giggle.
“No! Of all the things that could go wrong…” Marin looks right at me. “Pull your hood up, hide your hair, and hush. I’ll do the talking. And, Bianca, fold your hands in your lap. Not a peep, child.”
My hair is hidden before he finishes speaking. Coming quickly across the water is a small skiff. This is it. The tormenters. They will hurt us now. My knees press hard together. I gather Bianca in my arms and think of Mamma. She always said to be brave, stand tall…if there’s nowhere to run…otherwise, run like mad; no one could catch me.
I dare to look ahead, to face our enemies. The skiff has two rowers and a third man in the center, all standing. A sword hangs from the belt of the man in the middle.
Oh, Lord, they are monsters, too! Why harm us? Outcasts need each other.
The skiff comes
“Dirt?” He looks alarmed.
“Like mushrooms. Or a fire that’s just gone out.”
“That’s myrrh.”
I nod. “It’s nice.”
His face goes solemn. “Bianca has become attached to you.”
“She is dear.” My voice breaks.
“I don’t understand you.”
“I use plain talk. It’s you who is hard to understand.”
“I’ve never known anyone from the
popolo
—the ordinary people. No one except servants.”
“I’ve never known a noble.”
“Even in a
frate
’s robe you’re fair.”
My mouth goes dry. “My mamma used to say that. She believed it.”
“I am more than twice your age. Do you think of me as an old man?”
I shake my head.
His hand comes toward me. He touches my cheek so gently, it takes a second to know that’s what has happened. I cry.
“Tears? What do you feel now?”
The image of Mamma talking about crabs…how sometimes nothing else could satisfy her, and when a craving came, she was willing to go into the water she feared so much. I look in this man’s eyes. Everything feels simple. And dangerous.
“Please tell me.”
“I crave you.”
“Plain talk.” His voice trembles. “I could get used to plain talk.”
M arin stands at the bow with spread legs as the long, narrow boat glides toward the island he calls Murano. It’s the glassblowers’ island. Antonin, another giant who arrived this morning to take us away, stands at the stern, using a long oar to propel and steer us. Bianca sits beside me under the little canopy. None of them seems anxious. I press my lips together.
I am still in a brother’s robe—Marin threw my smock in the fire before I could protest. But this robe has advantages: if necessary, I can pull the hood up and sink down inside as small as I can manage. The others have no way of hiding, though. No one can fail to notice their hugeness. I am ready to fight, for their sake and mine, but it seems we’d be much safer if we all had a way of hiding. I stare as the lighthouse ahead grows larger.
Bianca laughs. “Have you never been in a gondola as skinny as this one?”
I look at her. “A what?”
She points at my hand. “You’re gripping the side so tight. But this gondola is very steady. Aunt Agnola says it’s as safe as any old wide gondola, and she’s afraid of everything. Let go.”
I fold my hands in my lap.
Bianca puts her hands on top of mine and sits sideways facing me. “I was so excited when Papà had this gondola made. All the noble families are getting the new shape. And lots of ladies can fit under the canopy at the same time. Antonin will ferry you to afternoon parties with Aunt Agnola and me and the Contarini girls and their mamma. They live near us. If you walk, you have to cross three little bridges to get to their palace. We love to hear things like that about the city since we’re never allowed to walk the alleys. The Contarini boat has sea horses engraved in the iron at the front. It’s much fancier than ours. The girls love to say that.”
I fix my eyes on hers. “Do you want to pinch them when they say that?”
She whispers, “Sometimes I think of pinching.” We look away, trying not to giggle.
“No! Of all the things that could go wrong…” Marin looks right at me. “Pull your hood up, hide your hair, and hush. I’ll do the talking. And, Bianca, fold your hands in your lap. Not a peep, child.”
My hair is hidden before he finishes speaking. Coming quickly across the water is a small skiff. This is it. The tormenters. They will hurt us now. My knees press hard together. I gather Bianca in my arms and think of Mamma. She always said to be brave, stand tall…if there’s nowhere to run…otherwise, run like mad; no one could catch me.
I dare to look ahead, to face our enemies. The skiff has two rowers and a third man in the center, all standing. A sword hangs from the belt of the man in the middle.
Oh, Lord, they are monsters, too! Why harm us? Outcasts need each other.
The skiff comes
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