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say please.
    Emmi chews, gulps, chews some more. Oh, she mumbles. Yes please. More please.
    She eats like a jackal, I says. Pa let her run wild.
    Child’s on the skinny side of scrawny, says Mercy. An if you don’t mind my sayin, you could do with a bit more meat on you too. Times tough at Silverlake?
    I frown. No, I says.
    You like a bit more to eat yourself?
    I shove my empty bowl at her. She looks at me with one raised eyebrow.
    Uh … yes please, I says.
    We’re sat outside to eat. Me an Mercy on the red bench, Emmi on the front step. Nero gobbled his lot down an now he’s perched on the cabin roof, havin a good preen.
    Bring your bowls, says Mercy. I ain’t no servant.
    She limps over to the cookin fire an Em an me follow behind with our bowls. She gives the pot a stir an ladles out seconds of the rabbit an root stew. I follow her back to the bench, stuffin mine down as I go. We sit an I nod at her foot.
    What’d you do there? I says, my mouth full.
    Broke my ankle, oh … over a year ago now. Had to set it myself of course an did a bugger of a job … well … as you can see.
    How d’you manage by yerself?
    She shrugs. I just do. Ain’t got no choice.
    Must be hard, I says. Yer pretty old.
    She gives me a hard look. An you’re pretty rude, she says. Anybody ever tell you that?
    I feel myself flush red. Go all skin prickly.
    I tell her all the time, says Emmi. But she don’t pay no notice. Lugh’s the nice one. You’d like him.
    Shut yer trap, Em, I says. Look. We came here … we didn’t jest come to tell you about Pa an Lugh.
    I didn’t think you did, says Mercy.
    There’s a basin of clean water between us. She pours in a tincture from a little brown glass bottle, dips a cloth in an starts cleanin my sore hand.
    I’m goin after Lugh, I says. I’m gonna git him back. I aim to set off in the mornin. I’m gonna leave Emmi here with you.
    I see, she says. Looks at me. Like she’s waitin fer more.
    Pa always said if anythin ever happened to him, we should come to you, I says.
    Oh he did, did he? Mercy shakes her head. I don’t know about that.… Tracker an me’s set in our ways. We ain’t used to company.
    But you was Ma’s friend, I says. Please, Mercy. Yer th’only one can help.
    She don’t answer fer a long moment. Then she sighs. She’ll have to work for her keep, she says.
    She’ll work, I says.
    An what does she have to say about it? says Mercy. Emmi?
    Emmi don’t say naught. She crouches over her bowl, her head down, eatin slowly. I know she’s listenin.
    Stop playin deaf, Emmi, I says. Mercy says are you happy to stay here an help her out while I go find Lugh?
    Emmi lifts a blank face. Shrugs. She drops her head over her bowl agin.
    I shake my head. She’ll come round, I says.
    I hope so, says Mercy.
    She won’t give you no trouble, I says. I promise.

    What was our ma like? says Emmi.
    Tracker’s got his head laid in Mercy’s lap. She rubs behind his ears an his eyes close in bliss. Nero dozes, huddled on my shoulder.
    Of course, Mercy says, you never knew her. But Saba must remember.
    Not so much, I says. Not no more. It’s like … she’s faded.
    She laughed more’n anyone I ever met, says Mercy. There ain’t a lot to laugh about in this life, but Allis always found somethin. I think that’s why Willem, why your pa, loved her so.
    Lugh’s like that, I says. He takes after Ma. Pa never laughed after Ma died. Not that I can remember anyways.
    No, says Mercy. I don’t suppose he did.
    We’re quiet fer a bit. Then, It’s my fault she’s dead, says Emmi. She’s bin drawin in the dirt with a stick an now she pushes at it hard. It snaps in half.
    Mercy looks at me with her keen eyes. I look away.
    Well, childbirth’s a dangerous thing, says Mercy. An you arrived a month early. I’ll tell you somethin, sometimes I think it was my fault.
    Yer fault? says Emmi, lookin surprised.
    Yes, says Mercy. I was all set to come an help. It was planned. I was gonna be there