X-Marks: Stealing Shadows

Family

My palms were slick.

This was it, I thought to myself.

We stood in the front of a room littered with piles of clothes and pots slick with years of wear. A crowd young and old sat along a wooden table.

Their dark curls and eager blue eyes put me at ease. They were Buggy's family, alright.

There was one man who stood out from the rest. His hair was a rusty red like my own and matched his wooly beard. The crowds of people parted as this man as he made his way towards Buggy with a smile stretched across his rosy cheeks.

"You see this," the man bearded man struck Buggy on the back, "No one can catch a Fraley, not even the Ally scum," the man said and pointed down at me and the others, "Are these the little ones that have kept you away. Your mother's been worried sick about you, you know?"

A petite woman in a modest blue dress walked to Buggy and put her hands on his cheeks. Her round eyes creased as she looked at Buggy, her son.

Buggy looked around at the crowd of people, "Thank you, everyone," he said and raised his hand to quiet the room, "Yes, these are the children the elders have asked us to care for. As most of you know they've come all the way from Blackstone. I trust you will treat them as our family, as I know they will too. Now that we've had our introductions, it's time to make them at home."

A rush of people lifted from their seats. Wrinkled old women held out their hands for our faces and arms.

"Such healthy children, but look at how short their clothes are," one said.

The sleeve of my borrowed shirt stopped just before my elbow. How much had I grown?

"We'll have to sew them new ones, for sure," said another old woman.

Other children, some as tall as Ocean, introduced us as Buggy's cousins. One a girl named Emma, the other was a boy named Timmy, or maybe it was Jimmy. It was difficult to tell who was talking with all their yelling.

We waited on the dusty floor as the older women sat at a table littered with pins and fabric. The other children wanted us to join their game of slinging rocks through circles drawn on the floor.

Evee teamed with Emma against Mat and Timmy. The competition heated up into curses and threats as dozens of more children gathered around the circle. Each shouted for their side of boy versus girls. Just before Evee made the winning shot, a hand grazed my shoulder.

Ocean stood above me and pointed to the table of old women. I walked to their welcoming smiles and sat in a chair.

"Valen, what an unusual name, was it common in Blackstone?" an old woman asked me.

Another woman smacked her hand on the table, "Think before you speak, Beth! It must have been terrible to lose their home, they don't need you nosy's bringing it up all the time."

Beth twisted her mouth and continued to sew.

I felt relieved. It wouldn't have been too much of a lie. We had lost our home. Just not the one they were told to believe.

"I'm Ida," the angry woman said, "You'll get to know the rest of us, no doubt and if you ever need anything, just ask any of us here. We've raised enough children, there's no reason to stop now. You can even call us Nan just like other children."

Ida's wispy white hair showed through to her spotted scalp. She held two sticks with a ball of thick thread and weaved them together with speed.

"What does Nan mean?" I asked.

One of the younger women put her needle down.

"Oh, they probably didn't say that back in Black-" she said and cowered under Ida's glare.

"Nan means grandmother," Ida said, "Call us whatever you like. Just remember you will be treated no different than any other child under our roof. No different at all," she repeated.

Ida's slight lips held a frown, but there was compassion in her stern appearance. It reminded me of Alger. Her words gave me comfort, but I knew they came with a warning. If we were to stay here, we were family, but we had to follow the rules just like anyone else. I couldn't ask for more.

Ida put down her needles, "Now hold still, while I take your measures," she said and stood from her seat.

Ida held out a yellow tape marked with numbers and lines. She placed it on my arm, then down and around my chest.

"They're larger than any children around these camps," a woman said.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Ida said, "Just means we'll be needing more fabric."

Ida continued to wrap the tape around my body. I noticed the traveler men coming in and out of a side door with rolls of their own fabric and heavy tools. They were building something, but what? I couldn't break away from Ida to investigate.

Once Ida had finished with me, she moved to Ocean. The younger women had to help her. Ocean was larger than Ida in almost every way. It took twice as long.

They then moved on to Evee and Mat. Both were not pleased to be taken from their game, but they were back to the circles and rocks in no time. Ocean and I stayed with the older women and listened to the stories.

Ida spoke mostly of her sons, Alger and Richard. They had been rivals since they were younger than me. The best story was the competition for leader of the canopy. Ida described every edge of this remarkable garden on the camp roof. I wondered when I would get my chance to see it myself.

Ida spoke the kindest about Buggy, her only grandson.

"He had no room for brains in place of his heart," she said.

It was true. I could have listened to her for as long as she had air in her lungs.

I looked around at the travelers. Their dusted faces were bright with pride. I now understood Buggy and his unending compassion. There was no table heaping of food. The room was bleak with filth. But there was warmth here. A kindness I could not forget.

They were a family, and now they were mine.