Chapter 14 #2
When Danik glanced at Veru with eyebrows raised, she shrugged, indicating his guess was as good as hers.
Twisting the key in the secret door, he turned the knob, and it opened easily.
They were greeted with a warm breeze and sunshine streaming into the little closet.
Marveling, they peeked outside at the new landscape.
Max darted out first, and the two young people followed, stepping onto a wide porch overlooking a lush wheat farm ripe with grain ready to harvest—a stark contrast to the wintry blizzard outside the kitchen window.
Danik noted a heavy-duty water pump attached to the porch and began filling bucket after bucket with sweet, fresh water.
He drank his fill while enjoying the fragrant summer air and then headed back into the small closet and stepped into the dark little cottage, carrying the first of many water buckets.
As much as they preferred the summer breeze and pleasant day, they knew they owed the little house a debt, so Veru and Danik worked together scrubbing and cleaning the cottage well into the evening, and by the time they decided to stop, they had cleaned and polished all the furniture in the front room, and Veru had washed and hung out to dry the first batch of blankets and sheets.
They flapped on a line Danik had strung on the summer porch.
Maxsim, having found his way to the warm floorboards of the magic porch, sunned himself there all afternoon long, lazily flicking his tail back and forth, back and forth as he dozed.
As Veru worked, she would often glance at him, feeling slightly jealous, remembering the time when she, too, would take long catnaps in such a way.
In the evening, the cat reluctantly returned with them into the house and hopped up onto the table expectantly.
Veru was happy to fill his bowl with another helping of the cooling stew, and she and Danik took turns finishing off heaping bowlfuls, as they were famished with the amount of work they had done.
They only left a little in the bottom of the cauldron for their breakfast in the morning and fell into a deep sleep as only those who are hardworking are able.
* * *
The next morning was crisp and frigidly cold once more despite the fact that they’d thrown half of their remaining logs on the fire, and they rose with muscles aching in places they weren’t accustomed to having hurt.
Veru groaned, unused to sleeping in a chair and unwilling to sleep on the old woman’s rickety bed.
She pulled a thin sheet over her head and shivered, hoping the blankets outside were dry.
A furry paw sneaked its way beneath the sheet and batted her nose, willing her to get up and fix a meal. “I know, I know, you’re hungry again, aren’t you?” she said as she pulled herself out of the chair. “Let’s see if there are any good bits left for you.”
Heading to the dark fireplace, she picked up the poker to stir the ashes when her arm brushed against the cauldron. It was hot! This time the lid was in place. Grabbing a towel, she carefully lifted the lid and peeked inside.
“I don’t know if this was you, Maxsim, or your house, but thank you! Danik? Wake up. It’s kasha!”
Picking up the bowl, she spooned a generous portion of buckwheat porridge, caramelized onion, crispy bacon, forest mushrooms, and soft-boiled eggs, their yellow yolks oozing and mixing into the fresh cream and dill dolloped on top, then handed it to a still sleepy Danik.
Next, she prepared a bowl for Max, spreading out the tasty bits so they cooled quickly, and placed it on the table, choosing to nibble pieces for herself right out of the cauldron.
“So good,” she said between bites.
“Tastes like my tetya’s,” Danik said. “She always used fresh goose egg when they were in season. These are goose eggs. I’m sure of it.”
“Delicious,” Veru agreed. “If you ate this well at your auntie’s house, I’m surprised your fingers aren’t too fat to play your instruments.”
Danik laughed heartily. “I’m not sure that can happen. I’ve met some musicians who were very round and portly, and I think it made their tone that much more interesting.”
“I’m sure it was more interesting. More interesting to watch, maybe.” Veru imitated what she thought a large musician might look like trying to play for a crowd. She liked the way Danik’s eyes laughed the same way his face did. He hid nothing.
“That’s nothing like it would look,” he said. “It would be more like this.”
He stood and began tromping around the room, dancing and tooting on an imaginary horn as if he were a giant animal, but somehow still managed to sound melodic.
At some point he reached down and grabbed hold of Veru’s hands, despite her protests, and danced around the chair and table, twirling her this way and that, bouncing her off his “enormous” belly or his “bulbous” backside.
When he got to the chorus of his song, he spun her around and around until she became so dizzy she nearly fell and grabbed on to his arms for balance.
He stopped quickly and held her steady. They both panted.
His hair had fallen over one eye in that appealing way she liked.
His large hunter’s hands held her loosely at her waist. She knew if she pulled away he’d let her go, but for the first time in her life, Veru wasn’t sure she wanted to move back.
Lifting a hand, she pushed the hair from his brow and slid her palm down his cheek, then she took a step closer, knowing that was all she’d need to do.
Men were easy. Give them a wink or a smile, and she’d have them right where she wanted them.
But with Danik, she didn’t want to play games.
Veru wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted from him, not yet, but she did know she was ready for more of something.
Their bodies were close. So close. Not quite touching, but almost. Just a whisper of cloth between them. She waited, her hand trembling on his face, and watched his expression change from joy and slight concern to confusion, to something raw and hungry, and then to something . . . sad?
He stepped back, his hands still supporting her, making certain she was steady before letting her go; then he smiled, and for the first time, she saw he seemed to be hiding something from her.
“Shall we get to work, then?” he asked.
“Danik?” Veru said. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. Are you fine? Is something wrong with you?”
“I’m good,” she said, confused.
“Are you certain? I can work on my own today if you’re in pain.”
“No. I can work. It’s just . . . did you . . . are you remembering . . . something?”
Danik began whistling and opened the little door to the summer porch. “Not that I recall,” he said, turning back to offer her an easy smile.
She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Please, tell me.”
He let out a sigh. “It’s like—it’s like the pictures in my head are a bit jumbled.
I’m not resetting like before. My mind is staying with you now.
Long as I focus on you, I can remember who I am and where we are and what we’re doing.
I just don’t remember the before, except the parts you fill in.
You tell me I’m a hunter, and I believe you.
I can track the mice even without seeing them.
In fact, without thinking, I fashioned a little knot with a string and set it in just the right place.
This morning I found a rat caught in my makeshift trap.
For some reason, I thought about giving it to you, but before I could, the kotenok grabbed it and finished it off. ”
“You’re remembering when I was a tiger. You fed me mice in a barn.”
“Did I?”
“Yes. We took care of each other. I saved your life, and you saved mine. I rescued you from wolves. Remember?”
He shook his head. “No. But it sounds like I got the better deal.”
“Perhaps,” Veru said, and turned away, disappointed that Danik still couldn’t remember her from before.
“Hey,” Danik said. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad to have the chance to get to know you as a person. I can’t imagine traveling with a tiger. It must have been . . . difficult.”
“In some ways, I suppose. But I think you liked me more as a cat.”
“Really?” Danik smiled. “Must have been because you never talked back.”
Veru punched him on the shoulder.
When they stepped outside, there was a long line of strange creatures, all of whom had buckets, bowls, barrels, bottles, pots, kettles, jugs, or cups.
“It’s Flower of the Well Day,” a short, bald man with a shovel and bare feet chirped the moment they opened the door.
“As I’m the first one here, I should get to draw the water. ”
“Says you!” shouted a very tall, very thin woman standing about ten paces back. Her nose was as long as her arms. “You know best as anyone—they get to decide. Have to judge, they do.”
“Well, stop your yappin’ and let ’em get on with it, then. Some of us don’t got all day, do we?”
“If you don’t want to take the time, ’ur welcome ta leave,” said a very bulbous gentleman with a nose like a pig and hooves for feet.”
Veru held up her hands. “Can someone please explain what’s going on?”
“Certainly, ’ur Graciousness,” the pig-man said, bowing regally.
“Stop flirt’n with the garl. T’won’t get you anything,” the thin woman groused.
“Ya never know, do ya?” he replied, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Danik picked up a stick and rapped it against the porch. “Here now. You’ll treat my lady with the proper respect as befits her station. If you want to address her, you’ll have to go through me first. You there,” he said, pointing to the first man in line, “what’s this about the water?”