Cedar’s delight at her found treasure deflates as she pushes open the creaking door. She takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and raises her chin.
Grandma sits at the table, hunched over her work.
Cedar sits in the other chair. Grandma makes no acknowledgment of her presence, absorbed in her work. Cedar takes the treasure out from her bag and lets it drop onto the table with a thud. It is heavy enough that its jagged edges leave indents on the table. Grandma continues painting strokes on her paper.
Finally, Cedar speaks. “I found this buried on one of Lake Dolphin’s islands.”
Grandma looks up. She considers the treasure but says nothing until she returns to her work.
“And?” is her only reply. Her tone is open and cheerful, but an undercurrent of iron will runs through it.
“I am going to take it south, to Sapphire City. They say the Governor will grant any wish of the one who returns the stone to him.”
Cedar does not know why she is explaining this to her. Grandma undoubtedly knows. Why is she acting as though Cedar has put a common acorn in front of her?
Grandma cleans her paints as Cedar tries again. “We will not be any safer here than anywhere else. But this will give us a chance. I’ll take it to the Governor in exchange for our safety.”
“I think you should put it away, and continue working on your maps.” Grandma rises from the table, gathering her painting supplies and dropping them into a basket. Hearing these words should have delighted Cedar. Grandma has never shown support for her map work. Mostly she had grumbled that the maps took her away from her responsibilities around the cabin and in the garden.
“I finished my last map today,” Cedar says, satisfied to be able to counter Grandma’s excuse.
Grandma pauses in front of the single room’s bookshelf. Her hand hovers over a book. “You could use my paper and paints and make good copies. Perhaps some local tourism outfitter would buy them. Or those photographers we sometimes get. You could make a little money to build a cabin. You are old enough now to want privacy from an old woman.”
Cedar does not know what to make of this suggestion. It would take weeks, maybe months of work to transfer all her maps, though it needs to be done for the work to be of any value. Her sketchbook paper is thin and worn through, and the charcoal pencils smudge easily. She is the only one who can make sense of some of what she has put down.
Why does the work feel like a burden?
“Samuel threatened me today,” Cedar says.
Grandma’s eyes blaze. “The man is an idiot.”
“A dangerous idiot,” Cedar protests.
“You are safe here.” Grandma selects a book.
Grandma has never apologized for all her attempts to persuade Cedar to marry Samuel. Her opinion quickly changed when his true colors were revealed, but Cedar’s trust in Grandma’s counsel has been irreparably fractured. Grandma’s dreams are not hers, but she was not raised to trust her own dreams.
Unable to articulate her most vulnerable dreams out loud, Cedar grasps for something. “Think of what money could do for us. I could take the stone to the Governor for money. We would not need to go through another winter like the last one.”
Grandma’s mind is receptive to the consideration of numbers. She is mathematically minded. She pauses for a moment in thought.
“We will not. Do not worry yourself.” Grandma sits in her rocking chair at the window. “Go back to enjoying these beautiful woods. We are fortunate to live here.”
“But Grandma…” she hesitates, thinking of her much-warranted fear of Samuel, but also of her reluctance to be tied down here with Star. She blurts the most truthful thing she has told Grandma for years. “I want to go.”
Grandma’s face crumples. “How could you want, my dear, to leave the safe home your parents sacrificed their lives to bring you to?”
Cedar’s last hold on her courage falters and fails. Guilt consumes her, and the raw pain of old wounds is reignited. Cedar cannot explain it. The urge to travel south has been too secret for too long. She has barely admitted the dream to herself. Old forgotten shame at her dreams floods back. Long forgotten utterances of these dreams, as a child, and the responses they had elicited from Grandma are remembered. How could she have forgotten, and dared to allow herself the dream once again?
She will stay and is even relieved. The relief surprises her. In her excitement, she had not yet known she was afraid. Now, she has done what she can, and obedience has freed her from taking the trek that beckons but also frightens her. Even the thought of Samuel cannot bring back her desire to flee. After all, Grandma has many friends, and she is with Cedar in being against the match. She had let her imagination run away.
Cedar takes the stone and puts it under her straw mattress on the floor. She forgets that it sparkles like a fleeting dream.