bags to hold his supplies, but they, much like Miriam, simply didn't see what was so important about his trip. Sometimes, Charlinder wanted to corner them and demand to know if they had ever paid attention to any of their history lessons, and other times he figured he would wait and see how much their attitudes had changed when he returned.
The Faithful surprised him beyond his maddest fantasies. One day in late July, when Charlinder was grinding corn for Eleanor, she asked him about his trip.
"Like I told the kids, I'll walk west through North America and Asia, then through part of Europe until I reach Italy," he explained apprehensively.
"But why are you doing this?" she asked.
"Well," Charlinder began. He paused to choose his words. What he really wanted to do was complete the conversation without engaging her in a confrontation. "There's been some fighting recently about the Plague, and where it came from."
"Yes, I've seen that," she agreed.
"So I'm going to Italy, where the Plague started, to find out what made it happen, so no one will have to fight over it anymore." He hoped that was a diplomatic enough answer.
A lovely smile opened up on her round, wrinkled face. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."
"Really?"
"You just might find a message from God," she said, still beaming.
"Yes," Charlinder began slowly. "I might find exactly that."
"I just hope I'm around to hear what it is when you get back."
"I’m sure you will be."
"You're such a good boy. I don't see what my grandchildren have against you."
"Which grandchildren?"
"Oh, Ruth and Robert think you're a bad influence or something."
He was about to remind Eleanor of the time she had apparently blamed Roy for Charlinder's refusal of her grandson's generous offer. Then he remembered that she sometimes addressed her own children by her siblings' names and regularly wandered into the smokehouse when she needed the kitchen, so he decided not to press the issue. "Not everyone needs to be my friends," he said instead.
He soon found that Eleanor was not unique among the Faithful; most of them were just as encouraging of his travels and just as warmly hopeful that he would find a sign from God. He often wondered if he should explain that he was actually trying to prove them wrong, but the time was never right to have that conversation. He needed to concentrate on getting ready to walk around the world; it would mean needless complication to pick fights with people who weren't feeling combative with him. Meanwhile, Ruth and Robert avoided talking to him, but since this posed no problem, he did not complain.
By September, Charlinder's neighbors had helped him amass a supply of pemmican, grains and dried fruits and vegetables that would probably last several weeks, a pair of the densest blankets he had ever woven, a clay pot to use for cooking and storage, and other items to keep him provided for. He had copied the world map onto a sheet of parchment, and he decided his neighbors didn't need to know about the extra weight on his back from Eileen's journals.
"There's something I think you should take with you that you haven't arranged," said Roy one night as they were getting ready for bed.
"What's that?"
"You’re expecting to go without livestock, and that’s a mistake."
"I don't think they'd ever let me take a horse, it's too..."
"I wasn't thinking of a horse," Roy interrupted. "I was thinking of a sheep, and I'm not suggesting you ask for the village's permission."
"You want me to steal one of the community's sheep?"
"I want you to have fresh milk every day, new wool to wear, and something other than the earth and sky to keep you company. Don't think of it as stealing, it's just another supply you need to appropriate. When you're ready to go in January, leave really early in the morning, go to the barnyard, and pick out a milking ewe. They’ll hardly notice she’s gone, and when they
The Faithful surprised him beyond his maddest fantasies. One day in late July, when Charlinder was grinding corn for Eleanor, she asked him about his trip.
"Like I told the kids, I'll walk west through North America and Asia, then through part of Europe until I reach Italy," he explained apprehensively.
"But why are you doing this?" she asked.
"Well," Charlinder began. He paused to choose his words. What he really wanted to do was complete the conversation without engaging her in a confrontation. "There's been some fighting recently about the Plague, and where it came from."
"Yes, I've seen that," she agreed.
"So I'm going to Italy, where the Plague started, to find out what made it happen, so no one will have to fight over it anymore." He hoped that was a diplomatic enough answer.
A lovely smile opened up on her round, wrinkled face. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."
"Really?"
"You just might find a message from God," she said, still beaming.
"Yes," Charlinder began slowly. "I might find exactly that."
"I just hope I'm around to hear what it is when you get back."
"I’m sure you will be."
"You're such a good boy. I don't see what my grandchildren have against you."
"Which grandchildren?"
"Oh, Ruth and Robert think you're a bad influence or something."
He was about to remind Eleanor of the time she had apparently blamed Roy for Charlinder's refusal of her grandson's generous offer. Then he remembered that she sometimes addressed her own children by her siblings' names and regularly wandered into the smokehouse when she needed the kitchen, so he decided not to press the issue. "Not everyone needs to be my friends," he said instead.
He soon found that Eleanor was not unique among the Faithful; most of them were just as encouraging of his travels and just as warmly hopeful that he would find a sign from God. He often wondered if he should explain that he was actually trying to prove them wrong, but the time was never right to have that conversation. He needed to concentrate on getting ready to walk around the world; it would mean needless complication to pick fights with people who weren't feeling combative with him. Meanwhile, Ruth and Robert avoided talking to him, but since this posed no problem, he did not complain.
By September, Charlinder's neighbors had helped him amass a supply of pemmican, grains and dried fruits and vegetables that would probably last several weeks, a pair of the densest blankets he had ever woven, a clay pot to use for cooking and storage, and other items to keep him provided for. He had copied the world map onto a sheet of parchment, and he decided his neighbors didn't need to know about the extra weight on his back from Eileen's journals.
"There's something I think you should take with you that you haven't arranged," said Roy one night as they were getting ready for bed.
"What's that?"
"You’re expecting to go without livestock, and that’s a mistake."
"I don't think they'd ever let me take a horse, it's too..."
"I wasn't thinking of a horse," Roy interrupted. "I was thinking of a sheep, and I'm not suggesting you ask for the village's permission."
"You want me to steal one of the community's sheep?"
"I want you to have fresh milk every day, new wool to wear, and something other than the earth and sky to keep you company. Don't think of it as stealing, it's just another supply you need to appropriate. When you're ready to go in January, leave really early in the morning, go to the barnyard, and pick out a milking ewe. They’ll hardly notice she’s gone, and when they
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