An Acceptable Time (14 page)

“Around two, I think.”

Og chased off into the field and Mr. Murry whistled and he turned and ran back to them. “Good boy,” Mr. Murry praised, “though whistling was a reflex. I should have let you go.” He stood, raising his face to the sky. It was a clear night, with the Milky Way a river of stars. Polly tipped her head to look for the North Star.

“I can understand how people could see a big dipper or a little dipper,” she said, “but not bears. And maybe if you draw lines between those stars you could make a crooked chair for Cassiopeia.”—Ley lines between stars?

“There’s Orion’s belt,” her grandfather pointed. “See those three bright stars?”

“Belt, okay,” she said, “but I don’t see Orion the hunter. Some night, could we have a plain old-fashioned astronomy lesson?” As she spoke, a falling star streaked across the sky and went out in a flash of green light.

“Of course. Let me do a little brushing up. It would be nice to have a dog again. It ensures a night walk, and that means a chance to look up at the sky.”

“Granddad, where do you think Og came from?”

“I really don’t think he came from three thousand years ago. We often have stray dogs in the village, dumped out of cars by people going back to the city.”

“People don’t do that!”

“People do. They have a puppy or a kitten for the summer and then, on the way back to the city, they let their summer pet loose. Maybe the city’s got into their bloodstream and they’re under the illusion that country dogs and cats can fend for themselves. I phoned around to see if anybody’s lost a dog, but thus far, nobody has. He’s a sweet dog. But he’s going to sleep in the garage tonight. Not in the house.”

Mrs. Murry came into Polly’s room, wearing her nightclothes. “Polly, love. I’m glad this is a double bed. I’m going to sleep with you.”

“Grand, it’s all right. I won’t leave. I won’t go downstairs. I promise.”

“Your grandfather and I will feel better if I’m in here with you.”

“But you won’t be as comfortable—I’ll keep you awake—”

“Please. For our sakes.”

“Okay, Grand, but I really don’t think it’s necessary. I mean, it’s fine with me, but—”

Mrs. Murry laughed. “Indulge your grandfather and me. We just want to make sure one of us is with you.” She got into bed beside Polly. “Let’s read for a while.”

Polly picked up a book, but she could not concentrate. After half an hour her grandmother kissed her good night and turned over on her side to sleep. Polly switched off the light, but she was not sleepy. Hadron was stretched out between them, purring sleepily.

Again the pool was pulling her. Pulling. This time she would resist. She pressed up against her grandmother’s back. Was it Tav’s influence, pulling her toward the pool and the past as the moon pulls the tide?

Polly stiffened. No. No. She would not go to the pool. If she got out of bed, her grandmother would waken, would stop her.

What Tav cared about was protecting the land, the flocks, the people, and Polly could not help feeling sympathy for that. When the O’Keefes had had to leave the island of Gaea, with its golden beaches and azure waters, it had been because of developers, because of greed and corruption, and people lusting for money and power and ignoring the loveliness of the island, the birds and the animals and the natives, who lived much as they must have many centuries earlier. And Benne Seed Island was already being developed, and soon it, too, would be irrevocably changed, with no thought for the birds whose habitat had been the jungly forest, or for the great trees two and three hundred years old.

Is it all greed and corruption? she asked herself. We’ve become an overpopulated planet. People need places to live.

But the condos and resort hotels were for the rich, not the poor. Nobody was building condos in the Sahara or the Kalahari deserts. Not yet.

But three thousand years ago the planet was not overpopulated. There was land enough for everybody. Was drought really bad enough to send tribes away from their home places and into land that belonged to others? Wasn’t the history of the planet one of people taking over other people’s lands? Didn’t Jacob and his people take over the land of Canaan? The Romans and then the Saxons and then the Normans took over the British Isles, and then the British took over India, and if some of the American colonists wanted to live in peace with the Indians, others didn’t. Others took over.

She sighed. There were no easy answers.

The pull of the pool had lessened. Polly nestled against her grandmother and went to sleep.

Polly slept late, and when she got up, both her grandmother and Hadron were gone. She hurried downstairs.

She had a stubborn determination to see this adventure through. All her senses were unusually alert. The smell of danger was in the air, and she had a strong feeling that, even if she wanted to, there was no way she could run away from whatever awaited her.

Could Tav really sacrifice her without Karralys’s or Anaral’s consent? They would never give it. They were the leaders of the tribe, and surely they would be listened to.

She sipped her coffee thoughtfully. Her grandparents came in from the pool. Her grandfather dressed and then came to the table with the morning paper. When her grandmother went out to the lab, bearing her cup of coffee, the dog came leaping in, jumped up, and greeted Polly and her grandfather. Then went to Hadron and licked the cat, who flicked his tail indifferently. Polly idly watched the big dog and the half-grown cat. Hadron had jumped to his feet and was thoroughly and diligently washing Og’s face while the big dog sat patiently.

“Granddad, look.”

He smiled at the two creatures. “Our animals have always been friends, but this is remarkable. I have a feeling we aren’t going to be able to get rid of Og, and oddly enough, I don’t want to. I wish I could hold on to the thought that he’s only an ordinary stray.” He picked up a ballpoint pen and began doing his crossword puzzle.

Dr. Louise arrived shortly after lunch. Clouds were scudding across the sky, and although it was warm in the sun, the wind was brisk.

“Where’s Nase?” Mrs. Murry asked.

“I don’t know where Nase is.” Dr. Louise looked troubled. “He took off in hiking boots right after breakfast and said he’d meet me here.”

“I think we have enough Ogam stones.” Mrs. Murry glanced at the two on the dresser, which she still had not removed.

“I don’t think he was looking for Ogam stones. He seemed unusually preoccupied. You know, Kate, it’s really rather foolish, my coming here. I can’t very well ask that young man to let me listen to his heart, and I’m not one for long-distance diagnoses. I need to know his history, talk to his doctor. But I, too, feel the need to protect Polly. I don’t have office hours on Saturday, and I have only one patient in the hospital, and I promised Nason I’d meet him here.”

“I’m glad you’ve come,” Mrs. Murry said, and Polly echoed her.

“And I’m curious,” Dr. Louise acknowledged. “I think all this is folly, but at the same time I’m curious.” She laughed at herself, then glanced at Polly, who was finishing the luncheon dishes. Mr. Murry was out, chopping more wood, a never-ending task, and they could hear the rhythmic stroke of his axe. The dog was with him, and occasionally barked in sheer exuberance. “Nothing new, I hope, Polly.”

“No. I just wish the bishop were here.”

“Why?”

“I want to ask him about blood.”

“What about blood?”

“Well, I know that blood is important in all cultures. And in lots of Eastern religions women have to be set apart, away from everybody else, during their menstrual periods, because they’re thought to be unclean.”

“Maybe not unclean as you’re thinking of it,” the doctor said. “Remember, sanitary napkins and tampons are inventions of this century.” Polly looked at her questioningly. “My grandmothers, and women before them, used old sheets, any old linens. Back in the Stone Age there weren’t any cloths to use. Having women set apart during their periods was a simple sanitary measure, and a ritual that was often looked forward to, when women could be together and rest from the regular backbreaking work. It was a time of rejuvenation, of peace and prayer.”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Polly said. “I guess I took a lot for granted. But weren’t men convinced that women were—I think I read somewhere—separated from God at that time?”

Dr. Louise smiled. “You will have to ask Nase about that. All I can tell you is that superstition has been around as long as human beings.”

Polly still had a dish towel over one arm. “Okay. Yes. But what about blood sacrifice?”

“I suppose I think it’s superstition,” Dr. Louise said. “The earth doesn’t need human blood in order to be fertile.”

“But what about—what about—”

“What, Polly?” her grandmother urged.

“Well, Jesus. Aren’t we supposed to believe that he had to shed his blood to save us?”

Dr. Louise shook her head decisively. “No, Polly, he didn’t have to.”

“Then—”

“Suppose one of your siblings was in an accident and lost a great deal of blood and needed a transfusion, and suppose your blood was the right type. Wouldn’t you want to offer it?”

“Well, sure…”

“But you’d do it for love, not because you had to, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, yes, of course, but…”

“I’m a doctor, Polly, not a theologian, and lots of Christian dogma seems to me no more than barnacles encrusting a great rock. I don’t think that God demanded that Jesus shed blood unwillingly. With anguish, yes, but with love. Whatever we give, we have to give
out of love
. That, I believe, is the nature of God.”

“Okay,” Polly said. “Okay. That’s good. I don’t quite understand it, but it makes some kind of sense.” She looked at Dr. Louise and thought that she must be a good doctor, someone you could truly trust with your life.

“Polly,” her grandmother said, “why these specific questions?”

“Oh—well—Tav does seem to believe in some kind of blood sacrifice.”

“Tav lived three thousand years ago,” her grandmother reminded her. “He didn’t know what was going to happen a thousand years later.”

There was the sound of a car outside on the lane, and the toot of a horn. Ogam barked, telling them about it, tail swishing back and forth, ready to greet the guest.

Mrs. Murry patted his head, “Thanks, Og,” and turned toward the door. “Must be Zachary.”

“Bring him in,” Dr. Louise suggested, “and we’ll give him a cup of tea.”

Once again Zachary had parked his car on the lane. He kissed Polly in greeting, then said, “Thanks for letting me come. It means a lot to me.”

“It’s good to see you. Come on in and say hello.”

“Who’s here?”

“My grandparents—though Granddad’s working outdoors. And Grand’s friend Dr. Louise. You met her.”

“Yes. Nice. A bit formidable maybe, but nice. What kind of doctor is she?” They went in through the garage.

“An internist. But, she says, she’s basically a country doctor, and they’re almost a lost breed. Endangered, at any rate.”

They passed Mrs. Murry’s lab and climbed the three steps to the kitchen just as the kettle began to sing. Mrs. Murry went to the wood stove. “Hello, Zachary. Will you join us for a cup of tea?”

“Thanks. Tea would be fine. Hello, Dr. Colubra. Nice to see you again.” Zachary shook hands courteously, then sat at the table.

Mrs. Murry poured tea. “Sugar? Lemon? Milk?”

“Just as it comes, please.”

She handed him a cup. “It’s another superb autumn day. Do you and Polly have plans?”

Zachary was wearing jeans and a bulky Irish-knit sweater, and new-looking running shoes. “I thought we might go for a walk.”

“Oh, good. If you drive to the ski area, there are several excellent walking trails.”

“Polly says there are good places to walk right around here.”

“There are, but…”

—Now what? Polly thought.—How are they going to keep us away from here?

Mrs. Murry was busy adding more water to the teapot. “I gather there’s a good movie on in town if you’re interested. It’s only half an hour’s drive.”

“No, thanks,” Zachary said. “I can go to a movie anytime, and what I really want to do is just amble around and talk with Polly.”

Polly perched on the stool by the kitchen counter, where her grandmother sat to chop vegetables, and waited. She knew she ought to say something, make some reasonable suggestion, but her mind was blank. How could she explain her trips to Anaral’s time? Zachary had no idea that the girl he had seen was from the past, and if Polly cared anything about him, she would see to it that he didn’t get drawn further in.

“Zachary,” Mrs. Murry said, “I’m simply going to have to ask you to take Polly somewhere else for your walk. As I said, there are some good hiking trails near the ski area.”

Zachary put down his cup. “That was excellent tea. Mrs. Murry, is something peculiar going on? Does it have something to do with that guy with the dog or the girl I saw the other day that Polly was so mysterious about?”

“Anaral? In a way, yes.”

“I don’t mean to push, but could you explain?”

Dr. Louise stood up, took her cup to the sink, rinsed it, and put it in the rack. “All right, Zachary. You would like an explanation?”

“Yes. Please.”

“My brother, who is a retired bishop, has accidentally opened a time gate between the present and three thousand years ago, when there were druids living with the native people of this land.” Her voice was calm, without emphasis. “The girl you saw on Thursday is a druid and belongs to that time. Her people are largely peaceable, but one of the Celts who came here from Britain believes that the Earth Mother needs human blood to stop the drought which is driving other tribes to this part of the world, tribes which are not peaceable.”

Zachary stared at her and burst into laughter. “You’re kidding!”

“Would that I were.”

“But that’s—”

“Crazy?” Dr. Louise smiled.

“Out of sight.”

Dr. Louise continued, again in a cool, academic way. “It seems that there is at least one person back in that long gone time who feels that Polly would be just the right human sacrifice. Naturally, we are not eager for Polly to be drawn through the time gate and into danger.”

There was what seemed to Polly a very long silence. Then Zachary said, “This is absolutely the most off-the wall—”

Mrs. Murry said, “You did see Anaral.”

“I saw a beautiful girl.”

“Describe her.”

“She had a long black braid. And honey-colored skin, and eyes that weren’t quite slanty, just—”

“A little exotic?” Dr. Louise suggested.

“Definitely. I’d like to see her again.”

“Even if it means going back three thousand years?”

“That’s an extraordinary suggestion,” Zachary said, “especially coming from a—a—”

“A physician. Who totally rejects everything she’s said, and yet on another level has to admit the possibility.”

“Why? It’s impossible.”

“A lot of things my forebears would have considered impossible, such as television, or astronauts, or much of modern medicine, are now taken for granted.”

“Still—”

“Polly has been through the time gate. So has my brother. My brother may be eccentric, but he’s no fool.”

Mrs. Murry’s voice, too, was quiet. “We don’t want Polly in any kind of danger, real or imaginary. Perhaps the imaginary danger is the most frightening because it is the least understood.”

Zachary looked at Polly, raising his brows at the story he was expected to take seriously.

Polly said, “Well, I know it sounds crazy, but there it is.”

“In which case,” Zachary touched her arm lightly, “I’d still like to go for that walk with you. I gather this time gate is somewhere on your land?”

“Yes. By the star-watching rock, where we were the other day. But also by the swimming pool. That’s where you saw Anaral.”

“A swimming pool hardly seems the likeliest place for a time gate, or whatever you call it.” He sounded slightly dazed.

“The pool is over an underground river, and three thousand years ago there wasn’t a pool, and there wasn’t the house. It was a great circle of standing stones.”

“If I didn’t know you’re an intelligent person, I mean highly intelligent—do you believe all this?”

“I’ve been there. Then.”

“So—I can’t just wipe it out, can I?” Suddenly he laughed. “I’m intrigued. Really intrigued. You think the girl I saw actually lived three thousand years ago?”

“Yes,” Polly said.

“Mrs. Murry? Dr. Colubra?”

“It appears to be a possibility,” Mrs. Murry said.

“Who knows, then?” He sounded suddenly wistful. He looked at Mrs. Murry and Dr. Louise. “Polly may have told you I’m having some problems with my health.”

“She told us that your heart is troubling you,” Mrs. Murry said.

“And my life expectancy isn’t good. If I’m to take all you’ve been saying seriously, maybe it would be a good idea for me to drop back three thousand years.”

“Not with Polly.” Mrs. Murry was firm.

“Zach—” Polly was tentative. “Would you let Dr. Louise examine you—listen to your heart?”

“Sure,” Zachary said. “But I don’t think you”—he turned courteously to Dr. Louise—“can find much beyond a murmur and some irregularity.”

“Probably not,” Dr. Louise agreed. “I have my stethoscope with me, but that’s all. Shall we go into the other room?”

Zachary followed her out, and Polly turned to her grandmother. “He’s right, I guess. I mean, she can’t find out much just this way, can she?”

“I doubt it. But Louise has a sixth sense when it comes to diagnosis. Polly, can’t you suggest to Zachary that you go to the club, or hike by the ski trails?”

“I can suggest,” Polly agreed, “but I don’t think Zach’s up to much in the way of hiking.”

When Dr. Louise and Zachary came back, the doctor’s face was noncommittal. “Zachary obviously has excellent doctors,” she said, “who are doing everything I’d recommend. Now, my dears, I need to make a move-on. What are your plans?”

“We could amble along the lane toward the village,” Polly suggested.

“Ambling is fine with me,” Zachary said. Then, to Dr. Louise, “Thank you very much, Doctor. You’re very kind.” And to Mrs. Murry: “Would it be possible for us to have tea and some of that marvelous cinnamon toast when we get back?”

“Quite possible. Polly, just walk on the lane and the road to the village, please.”

“Yes, Grand.” She and Zachary went out through the pantry and Polly took the red anorak off the hook. “Are you warm enough?” she asked.

“Sure. This sweater is warm enough for the Arctic. Polly, I wish your doctor friend had been able to give me some good news. She didn’t say anything.”