I get up and find Callie with the boys in their half-finished boat, talking about sails, rudders, and keels, and how there are many huge boats on Earth.
When she sees me, she smiles and stands up. “The boat is very nice, boys. When it’s finished, I want a trip with it. Just around the bay.”
She climbs up to the platform. “They’re good! It’s like your boat, but smaller. Maybe they’ll put a sail on it.”
I bend down to sniff her hair. “Maybe. And maybe there will be nets and a keel.”
“A very good boat, if it has sails,” Callie says. “The evening meal all done?”
“The man who tried to steal you was cast out from the tribe,” I tell her.
“Sprub-” she begins.
I quickly put a finger on her lips. “His name must never again be mentioned here. He is dead to us, and he never lived.”
She looks thoughtful. “I’m thankful that the tribe feels so strongly. Will the men hate me now?”
My first impulse is to say ‘of course not,’ but that might not be fully true. I should tell her what I actually think. “Some of them think that it was too harsh, and that he was tempted beyond his ability to resist, tempted by you. They say you have brought change to the tribe, and that the man was only trying to bring things back to the way they were. There are few who think this, and I don’t think they will hate you. But this did not endear you to them. I will point out who they are later, so that you can avoid them if you feel that’s necessary.”
“Okay,” she says easily. “I think it’s too dark to work on the net. And the village is quiet. The other men are in their huts?”
“Some are,” I confirm. “Some are working on small tools, some are mending their clothes, and the old men are talking about the old days. Not much happens in the evenings.”
“Someone’s in a boat,” Callie says, and points to a lit torch that comes closer from the mouth of the bay.
“Sometimes the splix run at night,” I tell her. “When we expect the run, there’s usually someone out on the ocean with a line and hook, in case it starts. If they catch a splix on the hook, they throw three more hooks in, and see how long it takes before they catch splix on all three. If it happens fast, it means the splix run has started. In the daytime, that’s not necessary. The splix are then very visible under the surface.”
The canoe comes in, and one of the two men aboard climbs up to the platform, holding the torch. “No splix yet,” he says. “We’ll go out again soon.”
I give him a tight smile. “Don’t want to miss the run. And with you two watching, we won’t.”
“That’s the idea,” the tribesman says. “It will be soon now. I can feel it. The waves are flat, the current is strong. They’re on the way here, mark my words.”
Callie and I walk slowly to our hut, talking about splix, nets, and hooks. Inside, I light a torch.
Callie’s eyes widen. “Is that…?”
“For you,” I tell her with satisfaction. “I asked Carter’ez to make it. It can be changed in any way you want, of course. Or he can make other things for you. I think he enjoyed this. It’s a change from the loincloths.”
She takes the garment down from the wall and holds it up. “It’s like a loincloth, but much bigger!”
“You have more to cover than we do,” I tell her. “Like I said, this is his first try. You will need it changed, of course.”
She turns the thing around. “Just a couple of changes. This could be longer. And this may be too wide. I would like some pockets, too. But I could wear it just like this. The size looks fine. Oh, thank you!” She drops the piece of clothing on the sleeping platform and embraces me tightly.
I squeeze her firmly, enjoying the warmth, the softness, and the scent of her. “But there is more.” I disengage and pick up the next item. “See if you can hold this properly.”
She accepts the knife carefully. “Oh, this is beautiful!”
“Quite a normal tool,” I tell her. “A little smaller than most, but also lighter. You can tie it to a pole and make a spear when needed. How’s the fit?”
She grips the thin handle properly. “Good! I can hold it firmly.”
“We’ll get a belt and a sheath, too,” I promise. “It’s sharp.”
She puts the knife on the floor and embraces me again. “Thank you, Crat'ax. It’s wonderful.”
“Everyone needs a knife,” I tell her. “And there’s more.”
