She peeked around the door.
He held out a bowl. “Here’s something to eat.”
It was oatmeal with strawberries and sweet soy milk.
“Clean the bowl before you leave or she might get suspicious,” he said.
“Okay.”
“Are you going home when you leave?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t run away or anything,” he said. “My mom will help.”
Raven knew she would, but her help could only make everything worse.
“Let’s go, Huck!” Ms. Taft called up the stairs.
“Bye,” he said.
“Bye.”
When she heard their car pull away, she sat down to eat the oatmeal. But being in the house without them was too sad. She had to leave that terrible silence. She flushed most of the oatmeal down the toilet, washed the bowl, and put it in the cupboard. Then she left and locked the door, placing the key under the rooster.
She walked toward her house because she was cold and there was nowhere else to go. The morning was gray and chilly. The leaves were starting to turn colors. The spirits of the earth were telling her that everything was changing.
She sloshed in her stocking feet through the stream, stopping at the Wolfsbane. Madonna looked very different without the moss on her face in daylight. A pale, round face surrounded in green. As if last night’s bright moon had turned her into a moon-faced forest spirit.
Please, Moon Madonna, don’t let Mama send me away again. I don’t know where to go.
10
Her steps slowed as she neared the house. She didn’t know how long Mama wanted her to stay out of sight. Maybe forever.
She peered through the trees and saw Mama sitting on the porch steps. Mama with her sharp sight spotted her seconds later. “Raven, come to me,” she said, standing up. “Don’t be afraid.”
Raven walked out of the trees. She was surprised when Mama almost ran and pulled her into her arms. “Oh, my miracle. My dear Daughter of Raven! I was so worried!”
When at last she let Raven go, she had tears on her pale cheeks.
“Why didn’t you come home?” she asked.
“You told me to go from your sight.”
“I only meant in that moment. When I was angry.”
“You aren’t anymore?”
“I’m very disappointed in you. For lying. For going to those people’s house and keeping it from me.” She lifted Raven’s chin with her fingers. “What do you have to say?”
“I’m sorry, Mama.”
“Good. Now, let’s go inside. We have much to discuss.”
Inside, Mama had her change into clean clothes. She told Raven to sit on the couch in the living room, and she stood in front of the stone fireplace.
“Tell me why you want to go to school. Is it the lessons or those boys you met?”
Raven dared not lie again. “The boys.”
“I thought so,” she said in a bitter voice. “You will find, Daughter, that gangs of children at a school are not something to want. They will see you’re different, and they will hurt you.”
“They would never hurt me.”
“Perhaps not them, but there are those who would. And once you go to that place, you’re trapped. You will be the raven’s child caught in a cage. You’ll feel like a bird beating against glass in your desperation to get out. The freedom of your present life, the trees and grass you see out the school windows, will be taunting misery.”
“You’ll let me go?”
Mama sighed and didn’t say anything for a while.
“School started today,” Raven said.
“I know.”
That surprised Raven.
Mama paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. She stopped and said, “I’ve decided I should trust the instincts of my Daughter of Raven. As I’ve said, you will one day be more skilled at communing with earth spirits than I am. Because you’re half-spirit yourself. You were a gift from that world, and I must listen to what you and they want.”
She stepped closer, her white-blue star eyes wet. “The spirits punished me last night by taking you into their fold. Your absence was terrible. I was afraid they would never give you back.”
Guilt made Raven’s cheeks burn. She had been with Jackie, not with the spirits. But the bad feeling went away when she realized the spirits had sent her there. They had made her cold and wet. They had sent her to his house to get warm.
Mama said, “I’ve been asking the spirits for help with a problem that has come up since you turned five. I believe your kinship with the spirits connects to my search for answers. Your three Askings—the one that bonded you with the boys and the two that expressed your strong desire for school—have shown me how I must respond to this problem.”
“What problem?” Raven asked.
“When you came into being, you didn’t have a birth certificate—proof of your birth in the human world. The outer world didn’t know of your existence. But my sister and Dr. Pat insisted your birth had to be recorded or there could be trouble. I saw the wisdom in that and let the doctor record your birth.”
“I thought we must never speak of the miracle to anyone.”
“We must not. But not having a certificate might have brought worse suspicion. The information I gave for the certificate is a false version of your birth. It says your father is an unknown person. It has times and dates that aren’t true.”
“Are you in trouble for making it up? Is that the problem?”
“The problem is you’re now known to the outer world. It was inevitable. I couldn’t hide you forever. Once a child is known in this country, she must be schooled. And the government oversees the schooling even if a parent wants to do it at home. In recent months, my sister has sent me many warnings about this. She mailed government papers to me. They say I have to be qualified enough to teach you. I have to have a planned program. They
