The man lifted his lip like he'd smelled something foul, but tried again. "Mrs. Warren, there has been an incident, and we need to determine the cause. This is the business of the elders, and wewillconduct it here."
"Then do it at a respectable volume so those of us trying to work can focus," I told him. "The infirmary is still a woman's domain, sir."
Mr. Myers moved to Mr. Becker's side. "She's right. Women must have control here or they cannot do their duty in this place."
"Just like the kitchen!" Felicity said, proving she was in the middle of this mess too. "And while you keep complaining about the amount Mrs. Hinton was served, you have yet to explain why, Mr. Becker."
"Because women should not be gluttons!" Mr. Becker spit.
And that made another roar of voices surge forth. Women were flailing their hands and screaming, trying to be heard over each other, but none of it was helping. And yet it was. For the first time in my memory, they weren't clasping their hands and staring at the ground. They were bickering - atelders!
But I clapped my hands again, making it all stop. "One at a time, please?" I begged. "You, tell me what happened." I pointed at Felicity.
"Mrs. Hinton was given a fair share for lunch. She did not ask for it. She did not demand it. It was simply given to her, but Mr. Morgan punished her for merely existing."
"That's not..." Mr. Becker growled in frustration instead of finishing his thought.
"No," I said, gesturing to him. "Please, let us know the problem, sir?"
"There is not enough food to go around! Women need to eat sparingly so the hardworking men of the compound do not suffer!"
"And yet the hunters go out more often than ever before," I pointed out. "I know, because I'm aware of when my own husband is not home. So why is there insufficient food, Mr. Becker? Mr. Morgan, do you know?"
Mr. Morgan sighed. "Times are hard on the surface."
"My husband doesn't seem to think so." I lifted a brow. "So who is telling the falsehood, Mr. Morgan? I'm sure my husband would do no such thing, but an elder shouldn't either. So if the hunts have been successful, yet there's no food, then we have a larger problem. Starving the wives and widows isn't going to solve that. Never mind that these wives are often working just as hard to make the next generation, or do you think children are formed of merely the blessing of God?"
"Now, Mrs. Warren..." Mr. Myers said, pushing the other two men aside. "That is not what we're saying at all."
"Isn't it?" I asked. "Because a wife - who could be pregnant, for all you know - was punished to the point of needing medical attention simply for... eating? And the issue at hand is that men deserve food for what they do, but we women, who create entire new people from our bodies, do not? I'm sorry, sir. It must be because I'm a woman, but I'm afraid I do not understand."
"You're being insolent," Mr. Becker insisted.
"Is truth insolence, sir?"
"Enough!" he roared. "This place may be the domain of women, but we still allow you this!" And he gestured at where Mrs. Worthington was caring for Hellah. "If you want to continue to have these privileges, then you should respect your elders!"
That was when Mrs. Worthington set down her clamp and needle. "Or?" she asked.
"Excuse me?" Mr. Myers asked, clearly not understanding the question.
"He said 'if we want to continue having these privileges,'" she explained. "I want to know what the other option is, Mr. Myers. What if we do not want these privileges?"
"Then we can go back to healing only men in the infirmary!" Mr. Becker snapped.
Mrs. Worthington hummed thoughtfully and caught my eye. She didn't smile, but I swore she wanted to. I could see it on her face.
Then she turned to Mr. Becker. "We can do that. Who will be doing the healing, though?"
"Excuse me?" Mr. Morgan asked.
And the fourth, previously silent man in the crowd asked, "What are you implying, Mrs. Worthington?"
"I'msaying," Mrs. Worthington clarified, "that if we women cannot heal each other, it will not be long before there is no one left to heal. Gentlemen, both Mrs. Warren and I are married.That means we do have other duties besides healing. The girls are not born knowing how to do this. They can sew, sure, but that is only a small part of healing. So, if we cannot care for each other, and have no interest in doing twice as much work for no extra benefit, then who will be doing the healing? I won't."
"Nor I," I said. "My husband would appreciate the extra attention, I would think."
"Everyone would take a turn!" Mr. Becker snapped.
