kindly. The men all worked hard and deserved some release. This was the natural way of things.
The single men had all arranged places they could go to be alone with an interested teacher. Some had arranged bedrooms, sending roommates to sleep elsewhere. Others had warm woodcaves, prepared with rugs, candles, sweet treats.
Lillah watched it all and fantasised about the day she, too, would be welcomed like a queen.
"They're coming! They're coming!" the children yelled on the run, racing along the beach to greet the schoolchildren, wanting them now to come into the village to show them toys, hideouts, climbing places, swimming spots.
The adults were more restrained, but all gathered on the beach to greet the Number Taker and the teachers.
"He's very tall," whispered one girl. They squinted. He did seem very tall. Too tall.
"No, he's got a teacher on his shoulders," someone shouted, and they laughed, all of them, joyful at the joke of the Number Taker carrying a teacher.
"How many teachers with them?" called Thea's oldest brother, Tax.
"Too many for you to manage!" a father said.
"Here's one, running for me. She can't wait," Tax said, pushing his way forward.
The teacher ran towards him, arms out.
"Civilisation! Hooray!" she said, and the crowd surrounded her, all chattering at once and offering her sustenance. The other teachers followed more sedately.
Lillah watched the Number Taker. "He seems to be struggling," she called. Logan turned to look, squinted, then ran along the beach.
The Number Taker fell to his knees as Logan approached, grappling with the young woman riding on his shoulders. Logan dashed forward and grabbed her. He held her in his arms as the Number Taker rose, then they walked together, Logan carrying the teacher, towards the crowd.
The crowd moved forward to greet the Number Taker, take him in, look after him.
Lillah ran to find a blanket then laid it down so Logan could place the teacher on it.
"Thank you," the teacher said. She winced. "I cut my foot on a sea urchin." Lillah glanced at the foot and could see it was swollen and discoloured.
The Birthman stood over them. "The Number Taker said we had an injury here," he said. "Wouldn't take any refreshment until he knew you were okay."
"He's very kind," the teacher said.
"This is our Birthman, Pittos. We call him Mr Miracles."
The Birthman blushed. He was a shy, red-faced man whose wife had just lost their sixth child. She had Morace, a lively child, ninety-six moons old. They had failed to have more.
"I'm Lillah, and this is my brother Logan."
"I'm Magnolia," the teacher said. She held out her hand and Logan took it. He sat beside her, still holding the hand.
"Thank you for carrying me," she whispered. Logan leant close to hear and she kissed his cheek. He said nothing.
"He's a bit shy," Lillah said, dropping on to the blanket beside them. The Birthman cleared his throat.
"It's too crowded here for me to work. Lillah, go get some juice for our patient. Logan, you can stay and hold her hand. This may hurt." Logan squeezed his face up.
"Not you, me!" Magnolia said.
The Birthman removed the spines and cleaned the wound
"Thank you, Birthman," Magnolia said. Her cheeks were flushed from the pain. Logan took a washcloth and ran to the water to soak it. He came back and gently stroked her cheeks and forehead with the coolness.
Her skirt had worked its way up to her thighs. When Lillah came back with the juice, she saw Tax lying a short way down the beach, angling his head and grinning at what he thought he could see.
"Shoo, Tax," Lillah said. "Shoo, fly. Go find a rock pool to put your head in."
Magnolia laughed and fixed her skirt. "Don't worry, I've seen worse than him."
The three sat on the blanket and laughed and talked until a messenger came for Lillah.
"Your Mother's crying on the front step," he
The single men had all arranged places they could go to be alone with an interested teacher. Some had arranged bedrooms, sending roommates to sleep elsewhere. Others had warm woodcaves, prepared with rugs, candles, sweet treats.
Lillah watched it all and fantasised about the day she, too, would be welcomed like a queen.
"They're coming! They're coming!" the children yelled on the run, racing along the beach to greet the schoolchildren, wanting them now to come into the village to show them toys, hideouts, climbing places, swimming spots.
The adults were more restrained, but all gathered on the beach to greet the Number Taker and the teachers.
"He's very tall," whispered one girl. They squinted. He did seem very tall. Too tall.
"No, he's got a teacher on his shoulders," someone shouted, and they laughed, all of them, joyful at the joke of the Number Taker carrying a teacher.
"How many teachers with them?" called Thea's oldest brother, Tax.
"Too many for you to manage!" a father said.
"Here's one, running for me. She can't wait," Tax said, pushing his way forward.
The teacher ran towards him, arms out.
"Civilisation! Hooray!" she said, and the crowd surrounded her, all chattering at once and offering her sustenance. The other teachers followed more sedately.
Lillah watched the Number Taker. "He seems to be struggling," she called. Logan turned to look, squinted, then ran along the beach.
The Number Taker fell to his knees as Logan approached, grappling with the young woman riding on his shoulders. Logan dashed forward and grabbed her. He held her in his arms as the Number Taker rose, then they walked together, Logan carrying the teacher, towards the crowd.
The crowd moved forward to greet the Number Taker, take him in, look after him.
Lillah ran to find a blanket then laid it down so Logan could place the teacher on it.
"Thank you," the teacher said. She winced. "I cut my foot on a sea urchin." Lillah glanced at the foot and could see it was swollen and discoloured.
The Birthman stood over them. "The Number Taker said we had an injury here," he said. "Wouldn't take any refreshment until he knew you were okay."
"He's very kind," the teacher said.
"This is our Birthman, Pittos. We call him Mr Miracles."
The Birthman blushed. He was a shy, red-faced man whose wife had just lost their sixth child. She had Morace, a lively child, ninety-six moons old. They had failed to have more.
"I'm Lillah, and this is my brother Logan."
"I'm Magnolia," the teacher said. She held out her hand and Logan took it. He sat beside her, still holding the hand.
"Thank you for carrying me," she whispered. Logan leant close to hear and she kissed his cheek. He said nothing.
"He's a bit shy," Lillah said, dropping on to the blanket beside them. The Birthman cleared his throat.
"It's too crowded here for me to work. Lillah, go get some juice for our patient. Logan, you can stay and hold her hand. This may hurt." Logan squeezed his face up.
"Not you, me!" Magnolia said.
The Birthman removed the spines and cleaned the wound
"Thank you, Birthman," Magnolia said. Her cheeks were flushed from the pain. Logan took a washcloth and ran to the water to soak it. He came back and gently stroked her cheeks and forehead with the coolness.
Her skirt had worked its way up to her thighs. When Lillah came back with the juice, she saw Tax lying a short way down the beach, angling his head and grinning at what he thought he could see.
"Shoo, Tax," Lillah said. "Shoo, fly. Go find a rock pool to put your head in."
Magnolia laughed and fixed her skirt. "Don't worry, I've seen worse than him."
The three sat on the blanket and laughed and talked until a messenger came for Lillah.
"Your Mother's crying on the front step," he
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