Read Seed for Free Online

her. These warmer months are for working outside. It’s only during the winter that we can read and write.
    “Papa S. knows,” Elizabeth reassures me. “It is his wish.”
    Kate has picked up a half-finished skirt, made from material that is covered with silver stars. She holds it, laughing, to her face, her eyes peeping through. I laugh with her.
    So this is where Kate sometimes disappears to since she has become a woman. I can’t believe that all this has been hidden from me. And now I’m here.
    “Enough now, Kate,” Elizabeth says, although her voice is kind. “Choose some material and start the panels of a skirt. Come here, Pearl, I’ll teach you how to work the sewing machine.”
    For years I’ve watched the women sew our clothes. I havenever been allowed to help. Now I’m so happy that I want to run around the room like a child. Instead, I go to sit with Elizabeth. Her chair is pushed back slightly, but her pregnant belly still presses against the table. I nearly bend down and whisper to the baby inside. I want to tell it that I am here, that I am a woman.
    “Watch,” Elizabeth says. And I do. She threads the needle, picks up a piece of forbidden material, turns the handle, and begins to sew.
    “Does Papa S. know?” I ask, above the gentle stabbing noise of the machine. “About the material?” Although the door is closed, I wonder if anyone can see us, can hear me speak.
    “Of course.” Elizabeth smiles. “They’re not for us to wear. And our messages might save an unloved person.”
    Her fingers move gently on the cloth. It seems almost alive, the deep green covered with bamboo sticks and birds. I reach out to touch it.
    “What’s Papa S. got against patterns?” Kate asks quietly. Her legs are tucked under her on the sofa, her sandals on the floor.
    Rachel scowls at her. “You know that it’s not Papa S. It’s Mother Nature who tells him.”
    Kate stares back. “So why does Mother Nature find nice material so offensive then?”
    Elizabeth turns to her and there’s a second of silence as thesewing machine stops. “All patterns are false, unless created by Nature.”
    She doesn’t notice Kate making a face at her as she turns back to the sewing machine. I hope that the anger I feel is clear on my face. I can’t bear that Kate is making fun of Elizabeth. Why is she being like this? But I won’t let the magic disappear.
    I watch the needle dig through the material, joining it together. Elizabeth has swept her hair over one shoulder, her eyes fixed on the work.
    Suddenly she stops, sits back. “The baby is kicking.” Her smile is wide as she takes my hand and places it over her stomach. Straight away, I feel it. A pushing against my palm. If it weren’t for the skin in between, I would be holding a tiny foot, or a hand.
    How will we hide that you are Elizabeth’s? No one else is growing a child, yet I’ll have to pretend I don’t know. Maybe, when you are old enough, we’ll run together to the lake, and in the shadows of the trees, I will tell you. Then you’ll never have the empty place I can’t get rid of.
    The sewing machine spills its thread in a line. Elizabeth’s fingers push the material along.
    “Do you get upset?” I ask, before I can convince myself not to. “That it won’t know you are its real mother?”
    Elizabeth looks surprised. Because I have dared to ask? Surely the thought must have found its way to her before. Has she never thought it about me?
    “I am only happy. I’ve been chosen by Nature to carry her child.”
    “Will you love it differently, though?” I persist. “Do you love your own children differently?”
    “I do not have children, Pearl. I have birthed children, but they are not mine.”
    Her words are jagged in me. Say it differently, I want to beg her. Tell me that I am the most special to you.
    But Elizabeth turns, puts her foot on the pedal, and the sewing machine starts again.
    “Here,” Rachel says. She has taken a pen and paper from