47: COMMITMENT
Sacred Heart had unofficially become “the orphan house” as all the various shattered Stone Clan households drifted into Oilcan’s care. Jewel Tear took up residence on the third floor as Iron Mace’s newly orphaned warriors shifted down to the second floor along with the remains of Earth Son’s household. Again and again, the elves mentioned that the front door needed to be painted. By that, they meant “should be Stone Clan black.”
He’d been haunted all night by his conversation with Tommy. Just as the half-oni recognized himself in Oilcan, he could see his reflection in Tommy. They both had been lone wolves while surrounded by people. They had perfected being apart even while crowded by others. They clung to the status quo because it was safe and comfortable.
Oilcan could have taken Tinker’s sponsorship days ago — should have taken it the minute he realized that he needed to provide for five kids. He was afraid if he forced the issue, the kids would walk away from him. He had taken the easy way out by not choosing. He had even drifted along in whatever he had with Thorne Scratch — silently accepting whatever she gave him because if he asked her to clarify, he might not like the answer.
In fact, wasn’t that his whole life, drifting behind Tinker, letting her choose the path? He had one-night stands with women who couldn’t stay on Elfhome, did nothing to discourage the one night becoming one month, and then watched as the relationship ironically imploded under his fear that if he put demands on the other person, he would lose them. The pattern was there, clear to see, if he only made himself look.
Much as the possibility of losing the kids and Thorne Scratch scared the shit out of him, he couldn’t drift along anymore. He had to take a stand. He had to make his choice of clan clear as the color of his front door. A household of Stone Clan members and a city full of Wind Clan wouldn’t let him be apathetic any longer.
He knew that he couldn’t be Stone Clan. It would be like walking away from everything that was him. But if changing clans would slowly drive him insane, wouldn’t it be even more so for the kids? Avoiding the issue, though, wasn’t the answer.
Talking to all the kids at once seemed like a bad idea. They were very good at joining forces, and he doubted his resolution could withstand their combined will. He decided to start with Baby Duck. She only had scattered memories from before Pittsburgh. In theory, she had the least attachment to the Stone Clan.
“Quiee,” Baby Duck quacked after Oilcan finished. They were sitting in the grass out before the anchor rocks. The indi leapt from stone to stone with the bells on their collars tinkling with each jump.
He waited for her to say something else. After a few minutes, he realized that she wasn’t going to say anything else. He felt like he’d broken her.
“I’ll be your sama as long as you want me to.” It scared him a little to know that now it meant forever.
She climbed into his lap and buried her face against his chest. “Quiee.”
He’d take that as a yes.
Fields of Barley was practically chained to the kitchen now that he was cooking for an army. It delighted him to no end. “I’m going to bake these carrots with honey glaze and sprinkled with chopped walnuts. The peas I’m just going to blanch quickly — it would be a crime to do more to them than a dab of butter and pepper. Wish I could do a presentation piece with the rabbits — but we need to stretch the meat. I’m going to make a pie with shallots, mushrooms, and apples. I need to do something other than pie with the peaches that cousin sent over.”
Apparently “cousin” was now going the other way.
“That sounds good.” Oilcan hated to break Barley’s good mood with bad news, but there was no way around it. He explained what he planned to do.
Barley carefully wiped down his knife and slid it into the butcher-block holder. “Sama—my first sama—said never use a knife when you’re upset.”
“I’m sorry.”
Barley attacked the bread dough. “We have the advantage of being the only Stone Clan enclave. The incoming clan members would come to us first and only go to the others if we have no room. If we become Wind Clan, we’re the smallest and most crudely furnished enclave. We don’t even have beds — we have cots. Our bathing room is still unfinished and our courtyard is paved and being used as a laundry.”
“Yes, we have rough edges. We’ll smooth those out. I think, though, that much of our business will come from humans. They’ll come for the music.”
Barley laughed, punching the dough. “You cannot make money from music.”
“We’ll charge. .” There wasn’t an Elvish word for it, so he used the English. “A cover.”
“A cover? What is a cover?”
Oilcan explained the idea. He’d already talked to Tommy Chang about using the gym as a nightclub. It was going to be their first joint effort.
“They’ll pay for not sleeping the night?” Clearly the concept mystified Barley. He pondered it as he shaped loafs and covered them to rise again. “We would not have to wash so many sheets if they do not spend the night.”
Currently, their laundry was very makeshift, with one industrial washer that amazed the kids and a maze of clotheslines in the backyard. It was taking up lots of time from everyone’s life to help keep up with the sheets.
“It frightens me, Sama. I walked away from my enclave and got so lost. I’m afraid to walk away from my clan.”
“Even if something happens to me, Tinker and Wolf Who Rules will take care of you.”
“I know,” he whispered. His bottom lip started to tremble, and he went to scrub at his tear-filled eyes with flour-covered hands.
“Hey.” Oilcan caught Barley’s hands before he could rub flour into his eyes. “It will be okay.”
“I hate being so weak.”
“You’ll get stronger.” Oilcan pulled him into a hug and let him cry. It was only fair, since he was the one rocking the children’s world.
Cattail Reeds was attempting to achieve the maximum effect of the paint and fabric on the extremely sparsely furnished second-floor bedrooms. “This is so beautiful.” She held out a rich Waverly floral print of reds and greens and blues. “But we have so little of it, I’ll have to be careful with it. Can we not get more?”
“I bought all that they had.” He cleared whole sections of the little fabric store knowing that what didn’t become curtains would become clothes. “Perhaps we can arrange for fabric to be brought from Easternlands.”
“Not like this.” She laid it aside to pick up the white broadcloth he’d found cheap and plentiful. “This, though, this is boring. I will have to see if I can dye it. If I can match the green, then the print can be an accent to it. If I can’t, maybe the walls will have to be green instead.”
Cautiously, Oilcan explained his decision.
“Cousin will take us if something happens to you?” Cattail asked.
That was one thing he was sure of even though he hadn’t talked to Tinker yet. “Yes.”
“Fine.” She took hold of a hunk of fabric and ripped it.
That didn’t sound like fine.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I was dismayed when I learned that Earth Son was dead. I had been at court with a chance — slim as it may be — of catching the eye of the queen with my designs.” She grabbed another section of fabric and ripped it. “It had been my choice, though, to leave court and come to Pittsburgh, because I was chasing a dream that had nothing to do with the queen’s favor.