Messenger by Lois Lowry Page A

‘Trade for what?’ she said, ‘Fur jacket.’ But Trademaster said no.”
    â€œDid he give a reason for the no?”
    â€œHe said she got a Gaming Machine already. Maybe another time, he said. Keep trying, he told her.”
    The blind man stirred restlessly in his chair. “Make us some tea, Matty, would you?”
    Matty did so, going to the woodstove where the iron kettle was already simmering. He poured the water over tea leaves in two thick mugs and gave one to Seer.
    â€œTell me again the second three-word thing,” the blind man said after he had taken a sip.
    Matty repeated it. “‘
Trade away what?
’” He tried to make his voice loud and important, as Trademaster’s had been. He tried to imitate the slight accent.
    â€œBut you couldn’t hear any of the answers that people gave, is that right?”
    â€œThat’s right. They whispered, and he wrote the whispers in his book.”
    Matty straightened in his chair with a sudden idea. “How about if I steal the book and read you what it says?”
    â€œMatty, Matty . . .”
    â€œSorry,” Matty replied immediately. Stealing had been so much a part of his previous existence that he sometimes still, even after years, forgot that it was not acceptable behavior in Village.
    â€œWell,” said the blind man after they had sipped their tea in silence for a moment, “I wish I could figure out what things people are trading away. You say they came empty-handed. Yet each one whispered something that was written down.”
    â€œExcept for Ramon’s mother,” Matty reminded him. “Trademaster said no to her. But others got their trades. Mentor got his.”
    â€œBut we don’t know what.”
    â€œNo. ‘Same as before,’ he asked for.”
    â€œTell me this, Matty. When Mentor left the Trade Mart, he hadn’t been given anything, had he? He wasn’t carrying anything?”
    â€œNo. Nothing.”
    â€œWas anyone given anything to take away?”
    â€œSome were told delivery times. Someone got a Gaming Machine.
    â€œI’d really like a Gaming Machine, Seer,” Matty added, though he knew it was hopeless.
    But the blind man paid no attention to that. “One more question for you, Matty. Think hard about this.”
    â€œAll right.” Matty prepared himself to think hard.
    â€œTry to remember if people
looked different
when it was over. Not everyone, but those who had made trades.”
    Matty sighed. It had been crowded, and long, and he had begun to be uncomfortable and tired by the time it ended. He had seen Ramon and waved, but Ramon was standing with his mother, who was angry at having been turned down by Trademaster. Ramon hadn’t waved back.
    He had looked for Jean, but she wasn’t there.
    â€œI can’t remember. I wasn’t paying attention by the end.”
    â€œWhat about the person who got a Gaming Machine? You told me someone did. Who was it?”
    â€œThat woman who lives over near the marketplace. You know the one? Her husband walks hunched over because he has a twisted back. He was with her but he didn’t go up for a trade.”
    â€œYes, I know who you mean. They’re a nice family,” the blind man said. “So she traded for a Gaming Machine. Did you see her when she was leaving?”
    â€œI think so. She was with some other women and they were laughing as they walked away.”
    â€œI thought you said she was with her husband.”
    â€œShe was, but he walked behind.”
    â€œHow did she seem?”
    â€œHappy, because she got a Gaming Machine. She was telling her friends that they could come play with it.”
    â€œBut anything else? Was there anything else about her that you remember, from
after
the trade, not before?”
    Matty shrugged. He was beginning to be bored by the questioning. He was thinking about Jean, and that he might go to see her in the