"Let's see. And of course there'd be some payment, some cash, Melena fully agrees," said Nanny. The barren vegetable plot had caught her attention. This was poverty. Nanny gave Elphaba a push. "Well, go on in, child, and see what's what."
The girl didn't budge, didn't blink. The children came near to her. There were five boys and two girls. "What an ugly pug," said one of the older boys. He touched Elphaba on the shoulder.
"Play nicely now," said Melena, about to leap up, but Nanny kept her hand out to say, Stay down.
"Tag, let's tag," said the boy, "who's the greenily?"
"Not it, not it!" The other children shrieked, and rushed in to brush Elphaba with their hands, and then raced away. She stood for a
minute, unsure, her own hands down and clenched, and then she ran a few steps, and stopped.
"That's the way, healthful exercise," said Nanny, nodding. "Gawnette, you're a genius."
"I know my chicks," said Gawnette. "Don't say I don't."
Herdlike, the children rushed in again, tapping and darting away, but the girl would not chase them. So they neared her once more.
"Is it true you got a Quadling muckfrog staying with you too?" said Gawnette. "Is it true he only eats grass and dung?"
"I beg your pardon!" cried Melena.
"That's what they say, is it true?" said Gawnette.
"He's a fine man."
"But he's a Quadling?"
"Nell-yes."
"Don't bring him around here then, they spread the plague," said Gawnette.
"They spread no such thing," snapped Melena.
"No throwing, Elphie dear," called Nanny.
"I'm only saying what I hear. They say at night that Quadlings fall asleep and their souls climb out through their mouths and go abroad."
"Stupid people say a lot of stupid things." Melena was curt and too loud. "I have never seen his soul climb out of his mouth while he was sleeping, and I've had plenty of opportunity."
"Darling, no rocks," shrilled Nanny. "None of the other children have rocks." "Now they do," observed Gawnette.
"He is the most sensitive person I've ever met," said Melena.
"Sensitive isn't much use to a fishwife," said Gawnette. "How about to a minister and a minister's wife?"
"Now there's blood, how vexing," said Nanny. "Children, let Elphie up so I can wipe that cut. And I didn't bring a rag. Gawnette?"
"Bleeding is good for them, makes them less hungry," said Gawnette.
"I rate sensitive a good sight higher than stupid," said Melena, seething.
"No biting," said Gawnette to one of the little boys, and then, seeing Elphaba open her mouth to retaliate, raised herself to her feet, bad hip or no, and screamed, "no biting, for the love of mercy!" "Aren't children divine?" said Nanny.
Every second or third day Nanny took Elphaba by the hand and waddled the shadowy road to Rush Margins. There Elphaba mingled with the greasy children under the eyes of sullen Gawnette. Frex had moved out again (was it confidence or desperation?)-he was scaring miserable hamlets with his frenzied beard and his collected opinions on faith. Gone for eight, ten days at a time. Melena practiced piano arpeggios on a tuneless mock keyboard Frex had carved for her, to perfect scale.
Turtle Heart seemed to wilt and parch as autumn came on. Their afternoons of dalliance began to lose the heat of urgency, and developed in warmth. Melena had always appreciated the attentions of Frex, and been attentive to him, but somehow his body had not been as supple as Turtle Heart's. She drifted off to sleep with Turtle Heart's mouth on one of her nipples and his hands-his big hands- roaming like sentient pets. She imagined that Turtle Heart divided his body when her eyes were closed; his mouth roamed, his cock rose and nudged and leaned, his breath was somewhere other than his mouth, hissing elegantly into her ear, wordlessly, his arms were like stirrups.
