Into the Stone Land by Robert Stanek Page A

behind the hut and cry.
    Tall was mortified. He supposed now that she was locked in some dark world of tears, but at the time, all he could think about was that he had to get away, that this was something private, that this was none of his business. And yet, his feet wouldn’t move. He could only stand and stare as her raw pain spilled into the mud.
    Many times previous he’d made a promise to himself that he’d tell her father and Keene about the fits and sobbing. He wanted to and yet couldn’t. He had no right to interfere. But he wanted to. She couldn’t cope on her own. A girl should never have had to do a woman’s work and deal with such heartache alone, and yet that was the way. Other families in the village dealt with the loss of a father or a mother or a son or a daughter in the same way.
    He’d grown up in a family with both parents and without siblings, and so he had no idea how to help anyone through such a thing. The hopelessness and sense of loss she must have been feeling, he could only grope at back then. He wanted to understand, but the sight of so many tears was making him less understanding. He thought it must have been the same with her father and brother, if they knew anything of her tears.
    On that day, though, just when he thought his feet would never stir to action, he found himself standing before Ellie. He didn’t say a word, but she must’ve heard his approach. She looked up with her beautiful green eyes. He reached out, helped her to her feet. “Don’t cry, Ellie,” he said, his voice coming out as a coarse whisper. “I miss her too. She was always kind to me.”
    Her look at his touch and words seemed to say she didn’t know whether to be offended or pleased. She stormed off without a word just as the rains returned. Tall found himself stumbling away through the mud. Ellie’s place was at the far edge of the village, so he had to go through the square on the way home. One of the old women was trading wild flowers. He took one, ran back through the rain and, pounded on the Ellie’s door until she opened it.
    There was a clatter in the hut and he heard someone screaming. Ellie’s father had returned with Keene. Tall gave Ellie the flower as he made his way to Keene. There was no exchange between him and her—not words, not looks. Her father was yelling, “The food is not prepared. The hut is not cleaned. Your clothes are muddy. Why?”
    He talked with Keene. Keene was excited about the day’s gatherings. Ellie never even glanced his way as she went to her work, but he watched her. Later that day, she said the only words she’d spoken directly to him then or since, “Go, eat with your own.”
    By the time Tall reached home, walking through the rain, he was wet through. He put his clothes to dry at the fire, crawled into bed, and then fell asleep thinking about Ellie. He thought her ungrateful and unkind. It didn’t occur to him until the next morning that he had no reason to feel that way. But he dismissed this. At the least, she should have thanked him for the flower. Why hadn’t she? He couldn’t explain his feelings.
    He ate breakfast alone the next morning and headed out to the market where his mother and father waited. It was as if summer had arrived overnight. Hot dry air. Not a cloud in the sky. In the market, he passed Ellie, her eyes were puffy and red. She was with her father and didn’t acknowledge him in any way. But as he went to his father’s market table, he found her staring at him across the marketplace. Their eyes met only for a heartbeat, then she turned her head away. Tall turned away, embarrassed, and started helping his father hawk his crafts.
    To this day, Tall remembered the way Ellie looked at him across the market. The golden flower he’d given her was tucked behind her ear and her expression, lacking its usual pout, was almost cheerful again. He realized