There were races and wrestling and boxing, too, though after a girl's body started developing curves, she had to stop wrestling and content herself with boxing and karate—or quarterstaves; they all practiced with quarterstaves, though they were allowed to use their minds to strengthen their own blows and weaken their opponents' strikes. They practiced archery, too, of course, directing the arrows with their minds, though it was their arms that had to pull the bows. Finny liked hide and seek best. She was very good at making the others think she was a rock or a stump or even a dog, so good that even her foster brothers and sisters couldn't always see through her disguise. She couldn't understand why—all she had to do was think of the form she wanted to appear to be, then try to think as that form thought (or failed to), and the others took the longest time to find her. Mama and Papa noticed and praised her for it. She changed shapes whenever she could after that, especially when it came to getting out of chores. As she grew older, she had more and more chores to do—but hiding never worked; if she wasn't there when she was needed, she lost her dessert to someone who had worked harder. Sometimes she even had only half portions for dinner.
Another problem with growing was that other people's jealous and petty thoughts began to clamor as loudly as their warm and loving ones. The older girls taught her how to pay attention to thoughts she wanted to hear and ignore ones that she didn't. But impatient thoughts grew more frequent as she grew older and the warm and loving thoughts became more and more rare, especially Mama's. Her fond thoughts seemed to center on the babies—the new foundlings and the toddlers. Finny grew very jealous of the babies, especially since Mama never seemed to tuck her in anymore—she was always rocking or feeding one of the tiny ones. One night when Mama paid her no attention, she couldn't get to sleep for the anger and finally realized that if the baby weren't there, Finny might become more important to Mama again. So she reached out to the baby with her mind to look inside it and see if there were some way she could make it go away. . . .
Sudden, blinding pain seared inside her head, and voices echoed there, stern and scolding.
Chapter 18
The voice was Beri's with Rhea's and Umi's behind it:
No, Finny! You must never hurt anyone unless Mama tells you to!
Finny cried out in fright—then a bigger fright as a huge, horrible ogre seemed to stalk into her mind. She could see the hag very clearly, huge muscles bulging under dirty blouse and red plaid kilt, dark jowls and little piggy eyes under an unruly thatch of hair, club upraised in her hand, booming, / am the Hurter! Where 9 s the foolish girl who likes to hurt people?
Finny shrank down in her blankets, too frightened to cry.
Then the ogre was gone, there was only a pinkish light in her mind, and Dory was beside her, stroking her forehead and saying, "It's just a bad dream, Finny, but that's what you look like inside when you think about hurting one of us. Never even think about it again." And she crooned a lullaby, soothing the five-year-old to sleep.
Finny didn't stop being angry, of course, or stop wanting to hurt the babies who were her rivals—but she never tried to do anything about it again, especially since it was quite clear that when the older girls gave her orders, those orders really came from Mama. But Dory and the other big girls loved the tiny ones, cuddling them and singing to them and playing with them when there was time, and Finny loved Dory and Rhea and the others. She began to feel guilty about hating the babies.
"Don't worry about it, Finny," Agnes assured her as they were hoeing the pea patch. She was an eight-year-old, and Finny's favorite playmate. "I hated you when I was five and Mama was making such a fuss over you."
Finny dropped her hoe, turning to stare at the bigger girl. " You hate me? But. . . but I thought..."
"Oh, I love you now!" Agnes dropped her hoe, too, and turned to hug the younger girl. "But I didn't when I was only five. I was very angry because Mama was so busy with you that she didn't seem to have much time for me anymore. But as you grew older, you were such a happy and loving little darling that I couldn't stay angry with you, and you wound up being my favorite toy."
"Toy?" Finny stared up at the bigger girl even as she relaxed into her embrace.
"Of course, my toy, 'cause I played with you all the time. Then you got big enough to play back, and now we're playmates. Don't worry, you'll wind up liking the new one, too."
Finny did, but it took a few years and, in the meantime, she didn't want Agnes to be ashamed of her or to have the big girls scold her, so she began to learn how to hide her anger and hatred from them. Every now and then, she slipped; her anger at the babies showed enough for one of the big girls to feel it, and the Hurter would come stomping through her head, making it ache from side to side—so she learned how to hide her feelings more deeply.
At least the punishment told her that the older girls were always paying attention to her. In fact, there was always somebody to play with, somebody to talk to, and somebody to listen to her troubles—but that somebody wasn't Mama, at least not very often. Sometimes she wondered if Mama had forgotten about her and did something naughty where Mama could see. The punishment was quick, but at least she knew Mama was watching.
It worked better when Mama told her to do something; when she did it, Mama would give her a quick hug or a pat on the curls. Most of the time, though, she left Finny to the big girls, and they were even more strict than she was about making sure Finny obeyed.
Then one day when she was churning cream, she stumbled and the churn started to fall. In a panic, she reached out with her mind and pulled it upright.
"Why, Finny, how very clever!"
Finny looked up, heart pounding.
Mama stood there, beaming down at her. "Did you catch the churn with your mind? How deft you've become!" She bent to kiss Finny on the forehead. "There's my wonder girl!"
Finny's heart sang. "I could push the dasher with my mind, too, Mama."
"Yes, you could, but your arms would grow weak," Mama said, still beaming. "Besides, ordinary things like churning aren't so amazing. It's being able to think and act on the spur of the moment that's wonderful." She gave Finny a quick hug. "Extra dessert for you tonight, young lady."
It was the first time Mama had called her a young lady.
From that time onward approval was rarely given, and was generally reserved for psionic feats exceptionally well done. Doing chores was expected and not celebrated, but if she didn't do them, punishment was quick.
The older girls put the younger ones in their places beyond the slightest shred of doubt. Hair would pull itself, skirts would blow up when the boys were near, noses would tweak themselves painfully, sticks would leap up to trip you. The worst was the nightmare in which an older girl would turn into a monster and chase you and chase you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't wake up. Finny learned to obey very quickly, and though Mama and Papa couldn't hear her thoughts, there were always older sisters who could, and who took care of the punishments themselves.