An Acceptable Time by Madeleine L'Engle Page A

Surely just to the stone wall should be all right.
    Louise the Larger was there, basking in the sun. Polly was used to all kinds of odd marine animals, and her father had once had a tank of eels for some experimental purpose, but she knew little about snakes. Polly looked at Louise, lying placidly in a puddle of golden light, but did not feel enough at ease to sit down on the wall beside her.
    As though aware of her hesitancy, Louise raised her head slightly, and Polly thought the snake nodded at her kindly before sliding down into the wall and out of sight. Or was she anthropomorphizing, reading human behavior into the snake?
    Snake in Ogam was nasske . It was on the bishop’s vocabulary list. So that meant that the people who used that language knew about snakes. She continued to stare at the wall, but when there was no sign of Louise after a few minutes, Polly sat down. The stones felt warm and comforting. This was as far as she could go without breaking her promise. The breeze ruffled the leaves remaining on the trees which leaned over the wall, making shifting patterns of light and shadow. The day was gold and amber and russet and copper and bronze, with occasional flashes of flame.
    A rustling sound made her turn around and there, on the other side of the wall, stood the tow-headed young man, holding his spear. He beckoned to her.
    “I can’t come. I’m sorry, I promised,” she explained, and realized that he could not understand her.
    He smiled at her. Pointed to himself. “Tav.” She returned his smile.
    “Polly,” she replied, pointing to herself.
    He repeated after her, “Poll-ee.” Then he looked up, pointed at the sun, then pointed at her hair, and clapped his hands joyfully.
    “I’m just an old carrot top.” She blushed, because he was obviously admiring her hair.
    Again he indicated the sun, and then her hair, saying, “ Ha lou , Poll-ee.”
    She visualized a page of Bishop Colubra’s notebook. Ha lou was a form of greeting. Easy enough to remember. The bishop’s notebook had contained various greetings used throughout the years: hallo, hello, hail, howdy, hi. The negative, na , was also simple. No in English, non in French, nicht in German, nyet in Russian. The n sound seemed universal, she thought, except in Greek, where the neh sound meant yes .
    Tav beamed, and burst into a stream of incomprehensible words.
    She smiled, shaking her head. “Na.” She did not have the vocabulary to say “I don’t understand.”
    Carefully, tenderly, he placed his great spear on the ground. Then he sat beside her on the wall. Pointed to the sun. “Sonno.” Then, with utmost delicacy, his fingertips touched her hair, withdrew. “Rhuadd.” He held out his hand, spoke a word, and touched his eyes. Spoke again, and touched his nose. He was teaching her words of Ogam. Some of the words, such as sun and red , she recognized from Bishop Colubra’s vocabulary list. Others were new to her. Polly was a quick study, and Tav laughed in delight. After they had worked—or played—together for half an hour, he looked at her and spoke slowly, carefully. “You, sonno . Tav”—he touched his pale hair—“ mona . You come tonight.”
    She shook her head.
    “It is big festival. Samhain. Music. Big music. Much joy.”
    She could understand him fairly well, but she could not yet put enough words together to explain to him that she had promised not to cross the wall, not to go to the star-watching rock. And did Tav understand that they were separated not only by the stone wall but by three thousand years?
    Suddenly he leaped to his feet. Louise had come out of her hiding place. Tav reached for his spear.
    “No!” Polly screamed. “Don’t hurt her! She’s harmless!”
    If Tav did not understand her words, he could not miss her intent. She thrust herself between the snake and the young man.
    He put down the spear, careful not to bruise the feathers. “I would only protect you,” he told her, in sign and body