Young Writers Society

Once the door is closed, Maleen collapses on the floor in giggles.

"What? What is it? Did I do something wrong?" I ask, bewildered and slightly worried that I might have offended my hostess.

"No, no, it's not you," she chokes out. "It's Threbus. Didn't you see how he kept looking at you, and how he was so awkward all night?" she's laughing so hard by now that she can barely get the words out, but I'm still confused. I guess Maleen notices, because she composes herself and sits up.

"You don't know him, so you wouldn't know. He's never danced at a party before! He mostly just sits there and eats, and talks to the fellows. He'll acknowledge the girls if he must, but oh, how he hates to! And he just spent the entire evening by your side, eyes glued to you. He even asked you to dance without being forced to!" She seems quite excited by this, but my reaction is a little different.

"Oh, no!" I moan, sinking into the armchair in dismay.

"Tamar, what's wrong? You're suddenly so pale!" Maleen exclaims in concern. I look up, and can feel my eyes brimming over with tears.

"You, you don't think he's smitten with me?" I ask, quite worried at the idea. Maleen laughs.

"Darling, he adores you! But aren't you happy about it?" she adds, noticing the nervousness I feel that must show. I can even feel my body shaking.

"No, it's terrible! He can't be! I'm too young! I'm not from here! I'm not his people, and he's not mine! And I'm only here for two weeks! How can this be happening?" I'm so upset that it's all I can do to keep from crying as I get the words out.

"There, there, dear. Most of the boys do this at some point. Don't let it worry you, so long as it's just adoration from afar. Use it to your advantage; he might even give you flowers and chocolates! So long as he isn't too serious, it's nothing to worry about," she assures me.

I nod, but I'm still too uncertain to say anything. I can't help but fear that Threbus might turn out to be serious, and that Maleen and her Grandmother will hate me for not being the wealthy girl they want for him. Of course they would be too polite to say so, but still, I would be afraid of it. I can only desperately wish that Maleen is right.

"...and didn't you notice anything unusual about him?" Maleen was asking. I blink.

"Um,..." I begin, not sure what to say. How rude, to allow my thoughts to wander off while someone was speaking to me!

Fortunately, Maleen understands. "I know you're tired, and probably still worried about my insane brother. Don't let him bother you. I was asking you about Cornelius, the tall young gentleman with the dark hair. Wasn't he simply lovely, and weren't his manners absolutely divine?" she sighs, a dreamy light in her eyes.

I look at her sharply now. She looks exactly the way Judith did last year, every time someone mentioned Judah Fisher's name. I smile gently. "He did seem very nice, yes. He was kind to me, which I appreciated," I say, and then want to kick myself for implying that any of Maleen's friends were unkind.

Fortunately, Maleen doesn't notice, she is too busy thinking about Cornelius.

I smile softly at her. "Good night, Maleen," I whisper, getting up and going back to my own room.

But I don't sleep right away. I toss and turn under the soft covers, thinking and rethinking the thoughts of the past two days. Images of the train ride, meeting Threbus, seeing Maleen again, her mansion, and the party all dance across my mind.

But especially Threbus. Every time I start to think about him, I can't help but smile. He reminds me so much of Abel, my brother. So awkward seeming, but so genuine and kind. And he has such a nice smile! But as soon as this thought occurs, I'm overcome with an intense pang of guilt. A vision of Josiah comes to mind, and I squirm, trying to rid myself of the uncomfortable knot in my stomach. I see him building the dam for the swimming pool with me, or beating me in the Wild Rose Co., Annual Spelling Bee for the fifth, or is it the sixth, year in a row. And I see him as he said goodbye to me, just two days ago, with his large eyes staring into mine, begging me not to forget him during my two weeks away.

My mind is swirling with these emotions; they're giving me a headache. And it doesn't help that I suddenly smell pancakes. 'Threbus,' I laugh to myself. I lie awake for a few more minutes, then decide to get up and join him. I pull on a dressing robe and head down the stairs.

"Good evening. I hope you don't mind a bit of company. I was awake, and smelled the pancakes," I explain, hesitating in the door.

Threbus looks up from his food and his eyes sparkle. "Tamar! Come in, please! Sit down! Do you want some pancakes? Cook made cheesecake for dessert tomorrow, would you like some?" he takes my hand, forgetting that his is covered in sticky pancake batter, and pulls me into the kitchen. He's so anxious he drops the spatula, and is looking at me so intently that he forgets that his pancake is burning until the smoke is nearly overpowering.

"Would you like me to make them?" I ask, thinking that my mental state might be a bit better at the moment.

But Threbus refuses to allow it. "I am your devoted slave, and I do whatever you wish," he informs me gravely. Only his twinkling dark eyes betray his exuberance.

I struggle to keep a straight face; he does mean well, after all.

While Threbus is making the pancakes, I take out the cheesecake. "Are you sure we won't get in trouble?" I ask nervously. When Mama makes something for a meal, it stays where she puts it until it's time for that meal. None of us would dare to take food early, the way Threbus seems to do so casually.

"Oh, it's fine. Cook's used to it, and she's not nearly so grumpy as she pretends to be. She likes me because I'm always keeping her company," he explains with a crooked grin.

I can't help it this time, I laugh so hard tears come to my eyes. "I'm sure you do," I manage to gasp out between choking breaths for air.

He laughs too and piles pancakes onto my plate. "Here, eat these, and if you get hungry, I'll make more," he tells me, plopping down next to me. He starts to take rather impolite mouthfuls, and then suddenly gulps down some milk before he starts to take more moderately sized bites.

"So, tell me about yourself," he says between bites.

So i do. I tell him about Judith and Jerusalem, my sisters, and my brothers, Abel, Abijah, and the others. I tell him about the crops, the cows, the sheep and chickens, and about the Appaloosas and dogs and the other animals. I tell him about Grenpa and Grenma and their little farm, which is really just a few fields on my family's property. He's fascinated by my grenparents, and makes me tell him every detail about them. I don't know why, but I can't bring myself to mention Josiah. I'm just not comfortable bringing him up. But I mention his sister Ninevah, who's a friend of Jerusalem's. He listens, enraptured, drinking in every word, and so we stay up talking for most of the night.