All except Repentance.
Drums began to play and the crowd hushed. The buttoning ceremony was officially started. Repentance gave her sweaty forehead a swipe with the heel of her hand.
Angered Springside came out from behind the fire. He danced along the line of button girls swirling his tan scarf in and out around their heads. Up the line he went, weaving a tan trail in and out, in and out, while the drums beat and the trees dripped and the fire flared. And back down the line he went. Slowly, rhythmically, dancing, weaving, keeping beat with the flames and the drums and the dripping.
Time slowed down. The air felt heavier than ever.
Repentance thought she might throw up.
Or scream.
Or both.
Couldn't they hurry? She sent a quick prayer to Providence, begging him to keep her from fainting. If she lost consciousness, she would wake up to find herself buttoned to Sober Marsh. Destined to live in the clinging fog until she choked to death on it.
Of course, Providence probably wouldn't listen to her prayer. She was a malcontent, after all. And lacking in mercy. What she planned to do to her family and to the Marsh family was by no means merciful. Why would Providence listen to any prayers she offered?
On Angered's third trip down the line, Benefit Underfall, grinning flirtatiously, caught his scarf. She hung on while he pulled her into a standing position. Then she pushed the heart-shaped button on her blouse through the first hole on the scarf and began her vows. The round button at her wrist went through the second hole and the square button at her hip went through the third. She buttoned herself without looking—all the girls had practiced this maneuver for weeks and could easily do it by feel—so she could gaze into Angered's eyes as she recited her vows:
With my heart, I'll love you,
With my hands, I'll serve you,
By your side, I'll abide, forever and always.
Angered then buttoned the scarf onto the corresponding buttons on his shirt and, looking deeply into Benefit's eyes, he answered:
With my heart, I'll hold you,
With my arms, enfold you,
Beside you, I'll guide you, for now and for always.
Using the scarf, Angered drew Benefit close and kissed her.
The crowd erupted into cheers. Repentance added hers, halfhearted as they were. One down, five to go. But maybe she wouldn't have to wait until the end. Maybe Sober would come out next.
Angered and Benefit moved behind the fire.
The drums picked up the beat.
Repentance held her breath.
Consternation Mossybank came out trailing a green scarf. On her left side, Sovereign emitted a little squeal of excitement. Repentance sagged a little—torn between disappointment and relief.
Why did Providence make her wait? Was He giving her time to change her mind?
Too late.
She closed her eyes, remembering Trib with his chubby arms outstretched. "Pentace, Pentace."
And she couldn't save him.
He called to her because she was the one he could see. His mother—their mother—had hidden in the cave.
A mother and father were supposed to protect their children.
If they couldn't protect their children, they shouldn't have any. No, she wasn't going to change her mind. She'd never breed for the overlords.
When Consternation headed up the line for a second time, Repentance dug her elbow into Sovereign's side. "For the love of Providence, don't keep him in anticipation," she whispered. She was feeling sicker by the minute and didn't know how much longer she could hold on.
And then Sovereign was reciting her vows and Repentance, trying to calm down, studied the audience. Her father sat tall and proud with his family gathered around him—his first daughter about to be buttoned. Her mother wore her ever-present look of contentment. But they were no better at obeying Providence than Repentance was. They were not merciful or honest. It was not merciful to give your first two sons to the cruel, pale-eyed overlords without a fight. Nor was it honest to pretend to be content about it later.
Peace washed over her. She was making the only decision she could make. Surely Providence wouldn't fault her for that.
Applause erupted for a second time and Sovereign and Consternation, beaming at one another, slipped behind the fire.
The drums picked up their volume; the crowd fell silent once more.
Sober Marsh came out, a gray flannel scarf in his hands.
You've rushed into trouble again.
And Providence frowns.
You'll never be free among men.
And Providence frowns.
And Providence frowns.
And Providence always frowns.
~Repentance Atwater, Slave Cart Compositions
Chapter 3
The peace Repentance had felt only moments earlier fled as quickly as a swamp-slinker on fishing day. Once again the heat and the drums and the dripping fog weighed down heavily.
With his loose, shoulder-length curls scrubbing his collar, Sober danced up the line and down, weaving his gray scarf around the girls.
Repentance, studying him with a sideways glance, was suddenly aware that he was not only five years older than most of the other scarf boys. He was also five years stronger. Maybe he had a bad temper. Maybe he'd kill her.
No, he wouldn't. Two overlord slavers stood in the shadows behind the crowd, dragon sticks at the ready. They wouldn't let Sober kill her. Live slaves were as good as beads in their pockets. Dead slaves were worthless.
She needed to get on with it.
Way back, a provision had been made for a girl who chose not to button. Such a girl would turn her back on the audience and on the scarf boy, signifying her choice to never button but to go into a life of service to
