Looks like he had a little bit too much.
* * *
The December sun rose high and made the snow dazzling when the beekeeper who had finished collecting new hives in the shed came to wake Pagey up. The hated curtain-fence opened with a sharp movement,
Hey, man, werent you going out today?
Hardly awake, Pagey realized that the first train they were going to take to the fair had left a long time ago.
Damn, damn, the young man babbled, tossing and turning on the old mattress and trying to figure out what was going on.
His head ached as if it was clamped in a leaden band that tightened with every movement. Getting dressed on the go, shivering with cold, he grabbed a handful of coins that he kept in a broken clay cup, and, hastily saying goodbye to Lekki ran to the wasteland.
Vita was sitting on the same fallen tree smoking a long pipe. She laughed when she saw Pagey coming,
Wasnt expecting to see you here at this hour.
I overslept! For the first time in my life! I missed the train because I overslept. Im so sorry, forgive me!
The Gever girl shrugged,
Its okay. Well stay in the village.
What do you mean? Well catch the noon train. Will be at the fair within a few hours.
You sure?
You bet! Of course, Im sure.
He gave her his hand to help her to get down from the tree, but she waved him away impatiently. However, as they walked along the drifts towards the boat crossing site, Vita put Pageys hand into her glove, finely crafted of calfskin.
Squinting his eyes down, Pagey studied Vitas glove. These Gevers looked so strange and unusual! It was obvious that the locals wore quite different mittens in winter which were woolen and prickly. Leather crafters kept their goods for shoes and clothing, no one would come to an idea to make a trifle like gloves out of leather.
And all of this made Vita even more beautiful and unreachable in the eyes of the young man.
But in his shame, he let her hand go out of his hand himself as soon as the boat crossing appeared behind the bare winter trees.
We must be careful, he warned lady Crescent. We all play by the rules here, and wont tolerate rules being broken.
Vita looked at him blankly, but Pagey didnt want to explain anything. He had enough for half of his life to contemplate Lekki and the herb-woman being suffered, the main fornicators in the village. He wont allow anything like that himself. They need to be discreet for the time being, not to flicker in front of the locals, not to look like a couple. Otherwise Pagey didnt dare even think about that. Everyone will see everything, everyone will know everything. And he would not be able to speak to his interlocutress again.
The boatman was sitting on the dock cleaning the clock disassembled directly on his knee with a brush. Clock maintenance was his second job. Having spotted the young ones, the man narrowed his eyes with distrust,
Where are you two going?
To the cities, Vita cut off dryly.
The two of you? the boatman persisted.
Pagey began to make excuses,
Were just going shopping at the fair. Lekki is aware. And the others. We have to get to the train, and well be back tonight.
The boatman, putting the watch parts into his inside pocket, raised and began reluctantly to untie the rope from the dock,
Well. After all, I have to make a living too. But if you get involved in something indecent, guy, Im turning you over to the druid, you know.
Indecent! Pagey could hardly force himself to keep silent in response. There were loathsome rumors about the boatman. Old Kelly used the word what instead of who when he was talking about the boatman, thus dehumanizing, depriving of virtues, depriving of spirit. An item, not the individual thats how they tried to depict the boatman in the village.
However, despite his bad reputation, Pagey always admired the skills of this man to do the crossing and watchmaking business, Pagey also admired the boatman being sarcastic, making nearly incendiary remarks, and even his appearance. To tell the truth, Pagey was still hoping that his real father lived somewhere in the village, and the boatman was fit for this role. He looked like one of the blackberry family fraught with darkness with his clear marine blue eyes, and pale skin but there was always certain urban dandyism about the boatman: lighters, cigarette cases, cufflinks on the cuffs and watch guards always polished to a shine, leading from the vest pockets to ideally sewn buttons.
Yes, he perfectly fitted for the image of Pageys nonexistent father, and the young man was too happy to think the story of his own origin every time he personally saw the boatman.
Meanwhile, the oars started splashing across the frozen water, cracking the thin ice.
* * *
The cities were crowded and filthy. The houses impended over the narrow streets, hiding the sun. People elbowed each other in the fair turmoil. Everything was decorated with green, red and white lanterns, symbols of Yule, called Christmas here, which remained the same everywhere.
However, during these days in the village, dairy and plow cattle was deliberately treated with tastier food, sometimes even bringing a real human meal to the barn. No one did anything like this in the cities, considering it silly superstitions and remnants of the past.
Pagey and Vita wandered around the trade rows for a while and decided to get a bite to eat.
I think, Ill buy some garlic croutons, she said firmly.
Pagey snorted,
What a choice!
Whats wrong? Of course, its not a good choice if youre going to kiss. But Im not.
Crushing defeat! a young man falsely slapped himself on his forehead.
When the owner of the bakery, a disgruntled old woman with a long face asked what they were going to buy, Vita remained adamant,
A double helping of garlic-flavored croutons please.
Unable to breathe, unable to react, unable even to blink, Pagey leaned back against the wall and, kept looking intently at Vita, he suddenly burst out laughing.
And they had croutons and drank ale, and snowflakes of the stunning beauty whirled behind the misted window of the bakery. When it was quite dark, the young couple moved back to the station hoping to catch the last train.
Halfway back home, Pagey had a secret he decided to share with Vita,
Ive got galipot. Resin from coniferous, plenty of them growing between the executioners home, and the Homs. I also have some beeswax from the apiary. Do you see the point?
Vita shook her head blankly. Then the young man took a paper bag with a scattering of small black beads out of his pocket. He took out a bead, put it in his mouth, and chewed.
You can order as many garlic croutons as you like. And you can kiss if you wish.
How cunning you are!
Having poured a few beads of galipot, Vita thoughtfully rolled them over the palm of her hand, which was warming inside the glove, and then asked,
The herb-woman has told my sister in her letters that all the villagers deliberately keep away from the rest of the world. But you came freely to the cities today, didnt you?
Thats right. The druid inherited the lands from the former lord, his father, and immediately started to build the community in the way it would have been thousands of years ago. I dont really care about any of this, but Hom used to say that if things had gone differently, we would have worshipped the one God and there would have been no bonfires and no drunken binges.