The Shadow Catcher

“Why not? Teachers are paid.”

“Well, we couldn’t just start, now, could we? Wouldn’t we have to ask someone?”

“I don’t know. Is there a mayor or — is there any kind of government?”

“There’s the ministry. I suppose we could ask the reverend—”

“Anything besides the ministry?”

“The sawmill.”

“Do they hire women?”

“Have you ever seen a sawmill?”

Edward entered from outside without a word and poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot steaming on the stove. He was wearing doeskin pants the color of the core of the potato Clara was peeling, a starched blue denim shirt, a silk neckerchief the color of spring lilac and a rust-colored leather broad-brimmed hat. He was, she realized with surprise, altogether the most striking man she’d ever seen.

Eva stood and smoothed her skirt, silent and attendant on her brother. Then Edward turned and, looking only at his sister, asked, “How is our Mother?”

“Better.”

“Good.”

“Less pain.”

“Excellent.”

“Clara has ascertained it is a kidney stone.”

Awkward silence.

Then Eva prompted, “You’ve met Clara. Clara, this is Edward. Edward, Clara.”

And to her own amazement, Clara stood.

He stared at her, still not speaking a word, his eyes so blue above the denim shirt she thought her heart would burst. She cleared her throat. “I — my brother and I want to thank you, Edward, for—”

“Express to Mother my concern,” he addressed Eva, interrupting. “I will,” Eva had replied.

And he was gone, bounding down the porch steps in a single jump, racing across the open compound in long, urgent strides as if he were the only Greek at Marathon — disappearing into the barn. That was the way that he appeared to Clara through the following weeks and months — running, always running, on the move and in a hurry to escape, to be somewhere else, to disappear, to light out, to be gone. He never took his meals with them and only rarely came inside the house for longer than a brief, perfunctory but daily visit. Several times he disappeared for a week at a time and Asahel would let her know, Gone again, but he’ll be back. You’ll see. He always comes back home.