The Unnameables (23 page)

"Dunno what poems be and I'm no reader. But I'd like to know more about this Capability C. Craft being nobody at all. What else does that Jeremiah write, Raggedy?"

Medford told them about Jeremiah being forced to weave when he wanted to make pots, and about Samuel Baker suggesting the Naming. Twig came into the shop, along with Jeb Pickler and several others, as Medford was describing the Town Meeting in which fifty-one Islanders voted against the name change but were outvoted.

"Majority rules," Dexter said. "Always has, always will."

"Aye, that's true," Chandler said. "Why can't we know these things, though?"

Twig leaned in to Medford. "Tell them about today yet?" Medford shook his head. Twig tipped his head back for better volume. "And what will happen to thee next, Master Runyuin?" he called to the ceiling.

Everyone looked at Medford and his brain froze up. "Town Meeting," Twig muttered into his tea mug.

Ah. "There's to be a Town Meeting," Medford said. "Eight o'clock this morning. The Council will decide then whether ... whether I'm to be gone." His voice dried up.

"I suppose they may take some action against my Prudy and my Earnest, too," Twig said, as if he were discussing the weather. "Maybe Boyce."

Chandler frowned. "I never heard about any Town Meeting."

"Mistress Essence Learned left without any Town Meeting at all," Cooper Waterman said. "I saw her go."

"Never did think that was right," Jeb Pickler said. "I told you that, didn't I, Cooper? Aye, I did. I said, 'That ain't right, just sending her away like that.'"

Everybody started talking to everybody else. Nobody was listening. Medford took advantage of the confusion to choke down his ham biscuit and sip a little tea, trying to remember how to breathe.

"Good notion to bring them journals here, boy," Twig said under the chatter. "I was just at Boyce's and everybody's up. Thought I'd join you, see if you needed help."

"I thank thee, Twig. What do we do now?"

"Don't need to do much, just wait for it to brew up. Best get Dexter moving, though."

"What do you mean, get Dexter moving? Wait, Twig, what do you...?"

Twig put his arm around Medford's shoulders and steered him toward Dexter's table, leaving both their teas behind. Arvid had rejoined his father and the two had their heads together, talking close. Twig sat down opposite Dexter and rapped his knuckles on the table.

"Eh?" Dexter looked annoyed. "What dost thou mean by that, Master Carpenter?"

"I wish to ask thee a favor, Master Tanner," Twig said. "Now I think on it, I don't believe Master Learned has authorized anybody to talk about this Town Meeting. He'll be most annoyed if he learns Medford told you all. I beg thee not to spread the news any further."

Dexter and Arvid looked at each other.

Twig squinted out the window. "Day's moving on," he said. "Merchant's store'll be open now. Wouldn't do to tell the crowd there, nor at Smith's Forge. I beg thee to be discreet, Master Tanner. And thee, young Master Sawyer."

Dexter got to his feet. "I'll ponder thy request, Master Carpenter. Meanwhile, my boy and I must be about our business."

"And everyone else's, I'll be bound," Twig said, watching Dexter and Arvid make their way to the door. "Aye, there they go, one to the store and the other to the forge."

If he weren't so worried and worn-out, Medford would have felt like laughing. It was a twisty way to go about things, but he supposed it would work. What was it Earnest had said, just the day before? "
You know Pa. He doesn't tell you what to do—wisht he would sometimes, hut that's Pa. He just says a few things and walks away.
"

Chandler's voice rose above the crowd noise. "Anybody know what 'tis o'clock?"

Myrtle stuck her head out of her kitchen. "Clock in here says half past seven, Chandler."

"I believe I'll go to that Town Meeting," Chandler said. "Invited or no. Anybody with me?"

Nobody answered but almost everyone stood up. There was a great scraping of chairs and creaking of floorboards.

Twig raised his voice, too. '"Twould be good," he called out, "if the Town Meeting could last until ten of the clock."

Chandler halted with his hand on the door latch. "Why wouldst thou want a
longer
meeting, by the Book?"

"Let's just say I want all the truth," Twig said. Med-ford didn't think that was the real answer and he could see Chandler didn't, either.

But Chandler nodded and opened the door. "Well, we'll follow thy advice, Twig. They do say—when a Carpenter's got a hammer, 'tis best not to look too much like a nail."

He left. Cook's emptied out after him.

There shall be a Council of five to assign Names and tend the community's Health, Safety, and Ethics. But all such matters shall be studied first by the Town Meeting.

—A Frugall Compendium of Home Arts and Farme Chores by Capability C. Craft (1680), as Amended and Annotated by the Island Council of Names (1718–1809)

M
EDFORD HAD
figured they'd all go to Town Hall together, but outside of Cook's the crowd melted away like ice in springtime.

"I'm going down to the wharf to get Violet," Cooper Waterman said.

"I'll be right along," Jeb Pickler said. "Got to check the new brine first."

Everyone seemed to have something to do at home or in the shop before they made their way to Town Hall. Before Medford knew what was happening, he and Twig were alone on the sidewalk.

"Will they really come, Twig?" Medford asked as they headed off to Town Hall.

"Oh, aye," Twig said. "'Twill be fine, boy."

Merchant's store was crowded to the doorway with murmuring Islanders. As Medford and Twig went by, they heard Dexter's voice rising above the crowd noise. "Don't go telling anybody I told you this," he was saying.

"So why
does
Master Learned want everything to be a secret?" Medford asked. "Why can't we know what's in those journals?"

"Deemer likes to know things the rest of us don't," Twig said. "Makes him feel important. His ma was the same. Maybe all Learneds are like that." He went silent, and Medford knew he was thinking of Prudy.

"Prudy's no Learned, then," Medford said. "She likes to know things but she hates to keep them to herself."

Twig smiled. "You're a fine boy, Medford," he said.

Upstairs in Town Hall, the auditorium seemed vast and chilly. The students' desks had been moved to the back of the room and a row of folding wooden chairs had been arranged in the front of the room, facing the Council table. Prudy and Earnest sat in the middle of the row of chairs with their mother, who looked as if she hadn't slept. At their feet were the crates of journals and a canvas drawstring bag.

The Goatman stood by an open window, yawning. Boyce was wandering around the room examining the woodwork as if he'd never seen it before.

"You didn't bring the dog?" Medford asked.

"She's back at the house," Boyce said. "Stinking up the hearth rug."

"She's a nice dog," Medford said.

"Glad to hear it," Boyce said.

Deemer swept in, wearing a dry Council robe, and his second-best tricorn. He acted as if no one else were there, just went to the Book's safe and unlocked it.

Ward followed the Councilor in, carrying a crate full of Medford's carvings. He and Bailey arranged the carvings on the Council table.

With Boyce's Alma figure so fresh in his mind, Med-ford thought his own carvings looked awkward and stiff, especially the Prudy head. Why was that? The figures were perfect; he'd even measured them. So why was that Alma figure so much livelier?

Unnameable thoughts again.

Ward pulled the Goatman's sash out of the crate and took it to him. "Ah," the Goatman said. "At la-a-ast." He put it on and blew his nose on it.

"Bailey," Ward called. "I'm just going downstairs to wash my hands."

Councilor Comfort Naming walked in, followed by Councilor Freeman Trade. The two ignored each other, eyes trained in opposite directions, and ignored Medford, Twig, and Boyce, too. They sat down on opposite ends of the Council table.

Councilor Grover Physick headed straight for Med-ford when he came in. He clasped Medford's hand and shook it hard. "Courage, boy," he said, his round, pink cheeks glowing with goodwill. "Whatever happens. Courage " He nodded to Boyce and made his way to the seat beside Comfort.

Head Councilor Verity Welfare entered last, stony-faced as usual. She stalked to the Council table, breaking stride only briefly when she caught sight of Medford's carvings. She took the center seat at the Council table.

"Master Runyuin, Masters Carver and Carpenter," she said. "Wilt thou be seated, please. 'Tis eight of the clock."

"Nobody's here," Medford whispered as he, Twig, and Boyce sat down next to Clarity and the journals. Boyce grabbed the canvas bag and stuffed it under his seat.

"They'll come," Twig said. But all of a sudden he looked as tired as his wife.

Clarity barely noticed their arrival, she was concentrating so hard on Medford's carvings, on the edge of her chair as if she wanted to be as close to them as possible. She looked sick, but Medford didn't think his carvings were making her that way.

"Bweh-eh-eh," the Goatman said, clip-clopping over to the front row of chairs.

Verity looked up at that truly Unnameable sound and froze, mouth open. Medford had to admit that hearing about a goatman was nothing compared to seeing him lope in your direction. Verity probably could smell him, too.

"I fa-a-are well," the Goatman informed her, and sat down next to Boyce, leaning forward on his staff to relieve the discomfort of sitting in a chair. Boyce eased himself toward Medford to avoid touching the Goatman's robe.

"Let us proceed, Councilor Learned," Verity said faintly, and got up to help Deemer carry the Book from its safe to its lectern.

Deemer leafed through to a page near the back, then he and Verity bowed to the Book and returned to their places. Verity sat down while Deemer stood at her side.

"We are gathered," he said, "to consider what is to be done about young Master Medford Runyuin, who hath embraced the Unnameable in secrecy among us. The proof of his misdeeds be on the table before us." He indicated Medford's carvings. His fellow Councilors dutifully contemplated them.

"Further, young Master Runyuin hath brought into our midst a ... a creature, a manlike thing with the hooves of a Lesser Horned Milk Creature and horns like, well, like nothing else." The Goatman waved at the Council and hastily put his hand down, one eye on the treetops outside. "And that creature hath made a great wind to the danger of all. Never hath this island seen such a creature."

Grover made a rumbling sound, clearing his throat. "In introducing the subject matter, Master Learned, 'twould be best to avoid words like 'misdeeds' and 'danger.' Thy fellow Councilors might think thou hadst made up their minds for them."

"This subject, Councilor, hath little to do with physick." Deemer gave Grover one of his jumble-toothed smiles.

"The tone," Grover said, beaming back at him, "hath little to do with justice."

Deemer raised his hand in a ceremonial way, as if declaiming from the Book. "Master Runyuin's actions imperil a society that hath proved itself fruitful and pleasant for more than three hundred years. This Island took him to its bosom from the unknown, and yet he hath broken our laws and endangered our very lives."

He walked to the lectern. "The Book makes it plain," he said, and read out: "
If it hath no Use, it needeth no Name, and wilt do thee no Harm. Turn thy Back and 'tis gone. Beware, lest thou stare at the Nameless thing for too long. Thou, and only thou, canst Transform the unnamed to the Unnameable. And then in Truth
thou
shalt he Gone.
"

There it was, Medford thought. The text he and Prudy figured had banished Essence. The text they'd waited for Deemer to explain in class and he never did.

Well, Medford had spent most of his life staring at Nameless things, from seabirds to carvings. He was as good as gone.

"Perhaps the Councilor would be kind enough to say what that passage means," Grover said. "Nobody ever did explain it to me. Even thy mother in Book Learning. I asked her once, but got no satisfactory answer."

"We shall leave my mother out of this discussion," Deemer snapped. "Councilor, this passage is a powerful warning against the Unnameable, one which the merest child could grasp if he had a mind to it."

"Oh, aye?"

"Councilor, is a seabird Nameless?" Deemer asked.

"Aye, 'tis."

"So a gray seabird that floats on the ocean is a Useless object and a Nameless one." He picked up the seabird bowl from the table in front of him. "But this seabird, this ... object, this is beyond Useless, thou wilt agree."

"Well," Grover said, "I have to admit I'd have a hard time eating stew out of that."

Comfort tittered. "Eat stew out of such an object! Imagine!"

Grover ignored her. "'Tis Useless, no arguing about that. And 'tis surely Nameless, because we've never seen anything like it before, so we haven't had a chance to name it. But I don't know about Unnameable."

"I wonder," Deemer said to Verity, in a tone that made Medford shiver, "whether Councilor Physick questions the very concept of Unnameability."

"Nay, I do not question it," Grover said, unruffled. "But I do keep saying, just because a thing is new ... Well, I don't think we need to be hasty. We let Clayton off with a week on the Barrens after he put the sugar paste on the muffins. Why banish Medford?"

"Councilors, we live on an island in a cold sea," Verity said. "Our survival dependeth upon the work of our hands. Instead of carving bowls and other items that would aid our survival, Master Runyuin hath wasted precious time on these objects here on the table. They are Useless, we all agree. Master Learned makes a convincing argument that they be Useless to the point of harm. Looking at them distracts us from more Useful pursuits."

"And that, in my opinion, transforms them from the Nameless to the Unnameable," Deemer said.