The Ask and the Answer

“He outranks you now,” Davy says to him. “You’ll address him as Lieutenant if you don’t want to be digging bogs on the front lines.”

Ivan takes in a deep breath, as if to calm himself. “Very well, Lieutenant, may I have a word with you?”

I look down on him from Angharrad’s back. Ivan’s Noise is busting with violence and the gunshot to his leg and conspiracies and resentments and ways to get back at the Mayor, openly thought, as if to impress me.

“You should keep that quiet,” I say. “You never know who might hear.”

I slap Angharrad’s reins and off we go back down the road. Ivan’s Noise follows me as I go. I ignore it.

Feeling nothing, taking nothing in.

“He called you son,” Davy says, looking ahead as the sun disappears behind the falls. “Guess that makes us brothers.”

I don’t say nothing.

“We should do something to celebrate,” Davy says.

“Where?” I say. “How?”

“Well, we’re officers now, ain’t we, brother? It’s my understanding officers get privileges.” He looks over at me sideways, his Noise bright as a flare, filled with things I used to see all the time in old Prentisstown.

Pictures of women with no clothes.

I frown and send him back a picture of a woman with no clothes and a band on her arm.

“So?” Davy says.

“Yer sick.”

“No, brother, yer talking to Sergeant Prentiss. I may finally be well.”

He laughs and laughs. He feels so good some of it actually touches my own Noise, brightening it whether I want it brightened or not.

“Oh, come on, Lieutenant Pigpiss, you ain’t still pining for yer girl, are ya? She left you months ago. We need to get you someone new.”

“Shut up, Davy.”

“Shut up, Sergeant Davy.” And he laughs again. “Fine, fine, you just stay at home, read yer book–”

He stops himself suddenly. “Oh, damn, sorry, no, I didn’t mean that. I forgot.”

And the weird thing is, he seems sincere.

There’s a moment of quiet where his Noise pulses again with that strong feeling he’s hiding–

That something he’s trying to bury that makes him feel–

And then he says, “You know . . .” and I can see the offer coming and I don’t think I can bear it, I don’t think I could live another minute if he says it out loud. “If you ever wanted me to read it for–”

“No, Davy,” I say quickly. “No, thanks, no.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Well, the offer’s there.” His Noise goes bright again, blooming as he thinks about his new title, about women, about me and him as brothers.

And he whistles happily all the way back to town.

I lay on my bed with my back turned to Mayor Ledger, who’s chomping down his dinner as usual. I’m eating, too, but I’ve also got my ma’s book out, just looking at it, lying on the blankets.

“People are wondering when the big attack’s gonna happen,” Mayor Ledger says.

I don’t answer him. I run my hand over the cover of the book like I do every night, feeling the leather, touching the tear where the knife went in with the tips of my fingers.

“People are saying it’ll be soon.”

“Whatever you say.” I open the cover. Ben’s folded map is still inside, still where I stashed it. It don’t even look like Davy bothered to open the book, not once in the whole time he had it. It smells a bit like stables, now that I know where it’s been, but it’s still the book, still her book.

My ma. My ma’s words.

Look what’s become of yer son.

Mayor Ledger sighs loudly. “They’re going to attack here, you know,” he says. “You’ll have to let me out if that happens.”

“Can’t you keep quiet for five seconds?” I turn to the first page, the first entry my ma wrote on the day I was born. A page full of words I once heard read out.

(read out by–)

“No gun, no weapon.” Mayor Ledger’s standing now, looking out the windows again. “I’m defenceless.”

“I’ll take care of you,” I say, “now shut the hell up.”

I’m still not turned to him. I’m looking at my ma’s first words, the ones written in her hand. I know what they say but I try to sound them out across the page.

Muh-y. My. It’s My. I take a deep breath. Dee. Dee-arr. Dee-arr-ess. Dee-arr-ess-tuh. Which is Dearest, which seems mostly right. My Dearest. And the last word is Son, which I know, having heard it so clearly today.

I think about his outstretched hand.

I think about when I took it.

My Dearest Son.

“I’ve offered to read that for you,” Mayor Ledger says, not able to hide his groan at the sound of my reading Noise.

I turn round to him, looking fierce. “I said, shut up!”

He holds his hands up. “Fine, fine, whatever you say.” He sits back down and adds a last sarcastic word under his breath. “Lieutenant.”

I sit up. Then I sit up higher. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.” He won’t meet my eye.

“I didn’t tell you that,” I say. “I didn’t say a word.”

“It was in your Noise.”

“No, it wasn’t.” I’m getting to my feet now. Cuz I’m right. I ain’t been thinking bout nothing since I came in for dinner except my ma’s book. “How did you know?”

He looks up at me but there ain’t no words coming outta his mouth and his Noise is scrambling for something to say.

And it’s failing.

I take a step towards him.

There’s a ker-thunk at the door and Mr. Collins lets himself in. “There’s someone here for you,” he says to me, then he notices my Noise. “What’s going on?”

“I ain’t expecting no one,” I say, still staring at Mayor Ledger.

“It’s a girl,” Mr. Collins says. “She says Davy sent her.”

“Dammit,” I say. “I told him.”

“Whatever,” he says. “Says she won’t talk to no one but you.” He chuckles. “Pretty little piece, too.”

I turn at the tone of his voice. “Leave her alone, whoever she is. That ain’t right.”

“Best not take too long up here then.” He’s laughing as he shuts the door.