learn it, not from Alvin. It was something Alvin never would have thought possible, to turn down the chance to learn something, just because the teacher was somebody you didn't like. Come to think of it, though, hadn't Alvin hated going to school with Reverend Thrower, cause of how Thrower always made him feel like he was somehow bad or evil or stupid or something? Could it be that Cal hated Alvin the way Alvin had hated Reverend Thrower? He just couldn't understand why Cal was so angry. Of all people in the world, Cal had no reason to be jealous of Alvin, because he could come closest to doing all that Alvin did; yet for that very reason, Cal was so jealous he'd never learn it, not without going through every step of figuring it out for himself.
At this rate, I'll never build the Crystal City, cause I'll never be able to teach Making to another soul.
It was a few weeks after that when Alvin finally tried again to talk to somebody, to see if he really could teach Making. It was on a Sunday, in Measure's house, where Alvin and Arthur Stuart had gone to take their dinner. It was a hot day, so Delphi laid a cold table - bread and cheese and salt ham and smoked turkey - and they all went outside to take the afternoon in the shade of Measure's north-facing kitchen porch.
"Alvin, I invited you and Arthur Stuart here today for a reason," said Measure. "Delphi and me, we already talked it over, and said a few things to Pa and Ma, too."
"Sounds like it must be pretty terrible, if it took that much talking. I I
"Reckon not," said Measure. "It's just - well, Arthur Stuart, here, he's a fine boy, and a good hard worker, and good company to boot."
Arthur Stuart grinned. "I sleep solid, too," he said.
"Fine sleeper," said Measure. "But Ma and, Pa ain't exactly young no more. I think Ma's used to doing things in the kitchen all her own way."
"That she is," sighed Delphi, as if she had more than a little reason for knowing exactly how set in her ways Goody Miller was.
"And Pa, well, he's tiring out. When he gets home from the mill, he needs to lie down, have plenty of quiet around him."
Alvin thought he knew where the conversation was heading. Maybe his folks just weren't the quality of Old Peg Guester or Gertie Smith. Maybe they couldn't take a mix-up boy into their home or their heart. It made him sad to think of such a thing about his own folks, but he knew right off that he wouldn't even complain about it. He and Arthur Stuart would just pack up and set out on a road leading - nowhere in particular. Canada, maybe. Somewhere that a mix-up boy'd be full welcome.
"Mind you, they didn't say a thing like that to me," said Measure. "In fact, I sort of said it all to them. You see, me and Delphi, we got a house somewhat bigger than we need, and with three small ones Delphi'd be glad of a boy Arthur Stuart's age to help with kitchen chores like he does."
"I can make bread all myself," said Arthur Stuart. "I know Mama's recipe by heart. She's dead."
"You see?" said Delphi. "If he can make bread himself sometimes, or even just help me with the kneading, I wouldn't end up so worn out at, the end of the week."
"And it won't be long before Arthur Stuart could help out in my work in the fields," said Measure.
"But we don't want you to think we're looking to hire him on like a servant," said Delphi.
"No, no!" said Measure. "No, we're thinking of him like another son, only growed up more than my oldest Jeremiah, who's only three and a half, which makes him still pretty much useless as a human being, though at least be isn't always trying to throw himself into the creek to drown like his sister Shiphrah - or like you when you were little, I might add."
Arthur Stuart laughed at that. "Alvin like to drowned me one time," said Arthur Stuart. "Stuck me right in the Hio."
Alvin felt pure ashamed. Ashamed of lots of things: The fact dud he never told Measure the whole story of how he rescued Arthur Stuart from the Finders; the fact that he even thought for a minute that Measure and Ma