Emma Field Book I - coming of age in the changing times of the mid-19th century

Chapter XXXVI - Leaving For New York

Emma had her suitcase sitting by the door of the attic. She added her nightdress and descended the two flights of stairs to the kitchen.

"Good morning, Elizabeth," she said tightly.

"Good morning to thee, Emma."

"I'm not hungry. Please don't serve me much. Do you think that it's too much for Ezra to take me to Picton? I could walk. If I left now, I could be there in time. Oh, I forgot something upstairs. I'll be back in a moment."

She raced up the first set of stairs two at a time, took the steeper set more slowly, then stood, her hands gripping the floorboards of the entrance to the attic. She stared blankly across at the legs of the beds, her stomach churning as she tried to recall what she had planned to do.

After a few minutes, Emma returned to the kitchen and sat at the place Elizabeth had set for her. "I don't remember what I went up there for," she said, turning the handle of the cup like the hands of a clock. "Do they serve cocoa at Nine Partners?"

Elizabeth took porridge from the black pot on the hearth and put it into a bowl, placing it in front of the agitated girl. "They do," she said pushing the jugs of maple syrup and cream in Emma's direction. The Quaker woman sat on the opposite bench, calmly placing her hands in her lap.

"You know, it would be so much easier if you would talk," declared Emma, a little too curtly. "I don't know what I am doing, going to live with people who never talk."

Elizabeth pursed her lips together and nodded slowly. Emma spooned a little porridge into her mouth. It sat there, her throat already filled with too many lumps to take yet another.

Suddenly the outside door swung open. Ezra called across the room, "Good morning to thee, Elizabeth...Emma."

Emma swallowed hard. "Morning."

"Today, thee becomes a teacher!" He squeezed Emma's hand and sat down beside Elizabeth. "What a beautiful August morning thee has been given to start out on such an adventure. Does thee like August mornings, Emma?"

"They make me sad."

"Oh. I am relieved when August comes. I thank thee, Cook Elizabeth. Has thee eaten?"

"Yes. The horse is not hitched yet?"

"No." Ezra drenched his porridge in a ribbon of maple syrup. "John will be taking Emma to Picton."

Emma's head bolted upright. "John? Why is he doing that? Why can't he just leave things be?"

Ezra, his eyebrows raised in surprise, put the syrup jug back on the table. "He wishes to see thee off. He is fond of thee. It is kindness..."

Tears welled up in Emma's eyes. "Why do others always interfere?" She pushed herself from the table and fled up the stairs.

Ezra looked apologetically at Elizabeth. "I didn't know. John offered and I thought it would be something Emma would appreciate. They are such good friends..."

"It will be fine, Ezra. The girl is in pain. She is frightened. She just needs to know that..." There was a knock at the door. Elizabeth rose from the table again. "Good morning to thee, John. Come in. I will go to Emma for a moment."

Elizabeth hesitated where the stairs hinged to the attic floor. "May I come in?" No answer. Elizabeth waited. Silence.

"Very well."

She went and sat on the end of Prue's bed. More silence.

"Thee knows that Quakers are not known for anything but plain dress; yet I have something fancy I wish to give thee."