thirsty, either. I'm just part of the world, turning around from night to day, wind blowing over me, plants growing up out of me, animals moving through and over me."
It was lovely to hear him talk about it, his face so lighted up like it got. This young half-black man, he loved his friend, his brother-in-law Alvin, even more than Marie did. Oh, to hold Alvin's hand and run through the trees and hear that greensong and see the bushes and branches bend out of the way and the ground become smooth and soft under her feet:.
But La Tia, she didn't get dreamy hearing it. She was making a list. "Fish, birds, trees," she said when Arthur Stuart was done. "You don't get hungry, you don't get thirsty. Wind. And bugs, yes? Heat of the sun. What else? Anything?"
"You think you can make a charm that does the same thing?"
"I give it a try," said La Tia. "Best I can do." She grinned wickedly. "This my 'knack,' boy."
She immediately sent her friend Michele and a half dozen others who had obviously run her errands before, looking for the things she needed. Feather of a bird, fin of a fish-that was the hardest one-a living beetle, leaves of a tree. A pinch of dirt, a drop of water, ash from a fire, and when it was all in a little sachet she would blow into it and then seal it closed with the hair of a long-haired woman, who happened to be Marie herself.
By morning she had made a sachet for Arthur Stuart and one for herself, and sachets for each of the colonels. "Now we see if we hear this greensong as we walk," she said.
"What about me?" asked Marie. "And my mother?"
"You hold my hand," said La Tia. "Your mama, she hold Arthur hand. I do it other way, but you get thinking about love, you."
Arthur looked at her and raised his eyebrows as if the idea were ridiculous. Ignorant boy.
She held La Tia's hand and Arthur held Mother's hand and they started walking and ... nothing happened. It was nothing like what she had felt crossing the bridge.
"I guess we just need Alvin," said Arthur Stuart. "Though you'd think it was something that could be learned. I mean, he wasn't born with it. He learned it from Ta-Kumsaw himself."
La Tia groaned loudly and smacked him softly on the forehead. "You silly boy, why you no tell La Tia this be red man thing, this greensong? Get the colonels, all they, bring they sachet to me."
Soon the march was again halted and the colonels were gathered while the people mumbled and murmured about another delay in their journey.
One by one, La Tia opened each person's sachet and said, "All right, you. One drop of you blood, right now."
Well, how many people could do that without an argument? But Arthur Stuart, he came up and he said, "I can let a drop of your blood go from your finger, and it won't hurt, but only if you say yes." Well of course they all said yes, and sure enough, Arthur held their hand and closed his eyes and thought real hard and one single drop came out from under their fingernail and dropped into the sachet.
Once again La Tia blew into the sachet and closed it, but this time she added a blade of grass to the strand of Marie's hair to tie the top. "Now maybe," said La Tia.
And this time as they walked, the charm seemed to have some effect. Marie couldn't be sure she was actually responding to the greensong-she hadn't heard it, really, crossing the bridge. It had been more like a sort of intensity inside her as she pushed the wheelbarrow, so that her hands never got sore from the chafing of the handles, and her back never got weary, she just stepped on and on.
Well, something like that began to happen now. She had long since given up the wheelbarrow, and she and her mother had taken turns carrying the ball of bloodwater Alvin had created for her. But now she didn't need her mother to spell her off. The burden was still heavy, it just didn't make her tired. Didn't even make her shoulders ache where the straps dug in.
But she did get hungry and hot and thirsty during the day. Yet she didn't mind being hungry and thirsty and hot. And her feet always seemed to find the right place to step.
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