known seemed indeed like a sort of doom. She had always known that she would leave this room but only for another one. She would move from this room into another fine house with a husband. There was nothing frightening about that, for this room would be there if she wanted to come back for a visit. But there was something dreadful, terminal, and utterly final about what was going on in her life and in the life of her family.
Time passed, and the pale sunshine filtering through her windows grew brighter. But Jori’s mood darkened even as the room brightened. She suddenly felt as if she wanted to strike out, to hit something, but there was nothing to fight. She was caught up in a river, an inexorable carrying away, that was taking her to a destination that seemed dark and hopeless. She was shocked when she felt tears swim in her eyes and run down the sides of her temples. She was not a crying young woman, for there had been little to weep over in her life up until this time. There was enough now to bring tears, and she let them flow freely until, suddenly, the pounding of footsteps outside in the hall and then the opening of the door in a violent motion shocked her and ran along her nerves. She sat up abruptly as Carleen came sailing into the room calling out, “Get up—get up, Jori!”
“Don’t you ever knock, Carleen!” Jori exclaimed. She shook her head at Carleen’s costume. She wore a pair of men’s blue jeans, the smallest that could be bought and which Kate had altered to fit her. She wore a red and white checkered shirt, andher hair was pulled back in pigtails. “What do you want?” she asked with irritation.
“It’s time to go. We’re getting ready. Come on, Jori.” Carleen came closer and leaned forward and stared at Jori. “What are you crying about?” she said.
“I’m not crying!”
“Yes, you are. There are tears running all over your face. I don’t believe it. There’s nothing to cry about.”
Jori threw the covers back and swung her feet over the side of the bed. “Go away and knock next time you come in a door.”
Carleen shook her head. “We won’t have no doors to come through, not until we get to Santa Fe. We’re gonna camp out. It’s gonna be great.” She stepped closer and stared with disbelief at her sister. She had been excited and getting underfoot ever since the final preparations for the beginning of the great journey were underway. She had paid little attention to Jori, and now she said, “I don’t know what you’re crying about.”
“Don’t you tell anybody I was crying, Carleen!”
Carleen shrugged. “I won’t, but I still don’t know why you’re squawlin’. It’s gonna be just great!”
“Go on now while I get dressed.”
“All right, but hurry up.”
Carleen dashed out the door leaving it wide open, and Jori got up and shut it. She dressed quickly in the early morning light, not bothering to light the lamp. She was wearing a light green dress, high waisted in the fashion of the day. The sleeves were long and came down to her wrists with a pair of turned-down cuffs. She slipped into her flat, low-cut leather shoes, then took one last look around the room. She would come back later for the clothes she was going to take, but this was good-bye to her life. Straightening up, she moved over and poured water out ofthe pitcher into the basin. She washed her face quickly, looked into the small mirror, and then turned and left her room.
* * *
AS KATE COOKED BREAKFAST, she was reminded of her earlier life when she did most of the cooking for a large family. In these later years she had done only specialty cooking, making things that she desired herself. Now, however, the memories came back of harvesttimes when she had cooked for twenty men at a neighborhood farm for little money. She thought of the cabin raisings where she had joined the other women, cooking for the workers who laid the logs, and realized that she had missed something of that time.
She
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