she said. “He’s so fresh with them Normans now, it’s a wonder they ain’t flang him down the oubliette.”
“I only hope that Ethelbert has a son like mine before he dies,” said Elmer.
“Everything seemed to be going so grand,” said Ivy. She burst into tears. “Here you was offered a fine position, with a chance for advancement,” she said brokenly. “And I figured maybe, after Robert the Horrible had wore out his horse drapes, you could kind of ask him—”
“Ivy!” said Elmer. “Don’t make me feel worse. Comfort me.”
“It’d be a sight easier, if I knew what it was you thought you was doing,” said Ivy.
Two Normans came out of the forest, unhappy and baffled. They faced each other, spread their arms, and shrugged.
One pushed a shrub aside with his broadsword and looked under it pathetically. “Allo, allo?” he said. “Robert?”
“Il a disparu!” said the other.
“Il s’est évanoui!”
“Le cheval, l’armement, les plumes—tout d’un coup!”
“Poof!”
“Hélas!”
They saw Elmer and his family. “Hien!” called one to Elmer. “Avez-vous vu Robert?”
“Robert the Horrible?” said Elmer.
“Oui.”
“Sorry,” said Elmer. “Haven’t seen hide nor hair of him.”
“Eh?”
“Je n’ai vu pas ni peau ni cheveux de lui,” said Elmer.
The Normans faced each other again, desolately.
“Hélas!”
“Zut!”
They went into the forest again slowly.
“Allo, allo, allo?”
“Hien! Robert? Allo?”
“Father! Listen!” said Ethelbert wildly.
“Shhhhh,” said Elmer gently. “I’m talking to your mother now.”
“It’s just like that fool unicorn trap,” said Ivy. “I didn’t understand that, neither. I was real patient about that trap. I never said a word. But now I’m going to speak my piece.”
“Speak it,” said Elmer.
“That trap don’t have nothing to do with nothing,” said Ivy.
Tears formed on the rims of Elmer’s eyes. The image of the twigs, the scratch in the earth, and the boy’s imagination said all there was to say about his life—the life that was about to end.
“There ain’t no unicorns around here,” said Ivy, proud of her knowledge.
“I know,” said Elmer. “Ethelbert and I know.”
“And you getting yourself hung ain’t going to make anything better, neither,” said Ivy.
“I know. Ethelbert and I know that, too,” said Elmer.
“Maybe I’m the dumb one,” said Ivy.
Elmer suddenly felt the terror and loneliness and pain-to-come that were the price for the perfect thing he was doing—the price of the taste of a drink from a cold, pure spring. They were far worse than shame could ever be.
Elmer swallowed. His neck hurt where the noose would bite. “Ivy, honey,” he said, “I sure hope you are.”
That night, Elmer prayed for a new husband for Ivy, a stout heart for Ethelbert, and a merciful death and paradise for himself on the morrow.
“Amen,” said Elmer.
“Maybe you could just pretend to be tax collector,” said Ivy.
“Where would I get the just-pretend taxes?” said Elmer.
“Maybe you could be tax collector for just a little while,” said Ivy.
“Just long enough to get hated for good reason,” said Elmer. “ Then I could hang.”
“There’s always something,” said Ivy. Her nose reddened.
“Ivy—” said Elmer.
“Hmmm?”
“Ivy—I understand about the blue dress all shot through with little gold crosses,” said Elmer. “I want that for you, too.”
“And the drawers for you and Ethelbert,” said Ivy. “It wasn’t all just for me.”
“Ivy,” said Elmer, “what I’m doing—it’s more important than those horse drapes.”
“That’s my trouble,” said Ivy. “I just can’t imagine anything grander than them.”
“Neither can I,” said Elmer. “But there are such things. There’s got to be.” He smiled sadly. “Whatever they are,” he said, “they’re what I’ll be dancing about when I dance on air tomorrow.”
“I wish Ethelbert
“I only hope that Ethelbert has a son like mine before he dies,” said Elmer.
“Everything seemed to be going so grand,” said Ivy. She burst into tears. “Here you was offered a fine position, with a chance for advancement,” she said brokenly. “And I figured maybe, after Robert the Horrible had wore out his horse drapes, you could kind of ask him—”
“Ivy!” said Elmer. “Don’t make me feel worse. Comfort me.”
“It’d be a sight easier, if I knew what it was you thought you was doing,” said Ivy.
Two Normans came out of the forest, unhappy and baffled. They faced each other, spread their arms, and shrugged.
One pushed a shrub aside with his broadsword and looked under it pathetically. “Allo, allo?” he said. “Robert?”
“Il a disparu!” said the other.
“Il s’est évanoui!”
“Le cheval, l’armement, les plumes—tout d’un coup!”
“Poof!”
“Hélas!”
They saw Elmer and his family. “Hien!” called one to Elmer. “Avez-vous vu Robert?”
“Robert the Horrible?” said Elmer.
“Oui.”
“Sorry,” said Elmer. “Haven’t seen hide nor hair of him.”
“Eh?”
“Je n’ai vu pas ni peau ni cheveux de lui,” said Elmer.
The Normans faced each other again, desolately.
“Hélas!”
“Zut!”
They went into the forest again slowly.
“Allo, allo, allo?”
“Hien! Robert? Allo?”
“Father! Listen!” said Ethelbert wildly.
“Shhhhh,” said Elmer gently. “I’m talking to your mother now.”
“It’s just like that fool unicorn trap,” said Ivy. “I didn’t understand that, neither. I was real patient about that trap. I never said a word. But now I’m going to speak my piece.”
“Speak it,” said Elmer.
“That trap don’t have nothing to do with nothing,” said Ivy.
Tears formed on the rims of Elmer’s eyes. The image of the twigs, the scratch in the earth, and the boy’s imagination said all there was to say about his life—the life that was about to end.
“There ain’t no unicorns around here,” said Ivy, proud of her knowledge.
“I know,” said Elmer. “Ethelbert and I know.”
“And you getting yourself hung ain’t going to make anything better, neither,” said Ivy.
“I know. Ethelbert and I know that, too,” said Elmer.
“Maybe I’m the dumb one,” said Ivy.
Elmer suddenly felt the terror and loneliness and pain-to-come that were the price for the perfect thing he was doing—the price of the taste of a drink from a cold, pure spring. They were far worse than shame could ever be.
Elmer swallowed. His neck hurt where the noose would bite. “Ivy, honey,” he said, “I sure hope you are.”
That night, Elmer prayed for a new husband for Ivy, a stout heart for Ethelbert, and a merciful death and paradise for himself on the morrow.
“Amen,” said Elmer.
“Maybe you could just pretend to be tax collector,” said Ivy.
“Where would I get the just-pretend taxes?” said Elmer.
“Maybe you could be tax collector for just a little while,” said Ivy.
“Just long enough to get hated for good reason,” said Elmer. “ Then I could hang.”
“There’s always something,” said Ivy. Her nose reddened.
“Ivy—” said Elmer.
“Hmmm?”
“Ivy—I understand about the blue dress all shot through with little gold crosses,” said Elmer. “I want that for you, too.”
“And the drawers for you and Ethelbert,” said Ivy. “It wasn’t all just for me.”
“Ivy,” said Elmer, “what I’m doing—it’s more important than those horse drapes.”
“That’s my trouble,” said Ivy. “I just can’t imagine anything grander than them.”
“Neither can I,” said Elmer. “But there are such things. There’s got to be.” He smiled sadly. “Whatever they are,” he said, “they’re what I’ll be dancing about when I dance on air tomorrow.”
“I wish Ethelbert
Similar Books
