At The Woodchoppers Ball Bk 01 Ch 05

Chapter 5

The light outside had begun to change, transitioning from the soft, mellow blues of the afternoon to the searing, blazing yellows of sunset. Mirrla arrived home not long after Mother while I finished preparing dinner. I caught a glimpse of my sister through the window, then heard her tumbling in through the door. Enide had dropped her off in her convertible, accompanied by Rebeka and Andra. They waved her off and drove away, I assumed to shuttle Andra back to her place.

Sometime later, before bedtime, Mirrla knocked on my bedroom door. As she came in, I lowered my book and leaned back on my chair. I watched her as she sat on the edge of my bed, directly in front of me.

"How was practice?" I asked, enquiring after her gymnastic training.

"Oh... fine," Mirrla answered breezily, clearly uninterested in the topic. Despite her blithe demeanour, I could tell my sister had something on her mind.

"Enide seemed happy with how things went," Mirrla observed.

"Yes — we had a nice time with Andra."

She nodded. "Andra seemed much happier too."

"Mita..." I asked, putting down my book, "... how well do you know Andra?"

"Oh... umm, quite well I suppose," came her guarded response.

"Enide told me ——" I hesitated, mulling over my words, then started again. "She asked me to treat Andra with kid gloves. I mean — not in so many words," I explained, in a rather muddled way. "I'm trying to understand why Andra has been feeling low — or at least, that's what everyone keeps telling me."

Mirrla looked straight into my face. "Andra isn't depressed or anything," she said firmly. "She's just been feeling down a little — that's all. I know she was looking forward to seeing you though," she added with a shrug.

"I used to think she was a bit standoffish with me," I confessed.

The way Mirrla wore her hair now was more stylish and less girlish than I remembered. It was parted just above her left eye, with the front swept back, almost like a boy's bob, but the rest flowed down all around her head, a soft mass of brown tumbling down past her shoulders.

"Um... don't worry about that now — Andra enjoyed herself today!" my sister observed with a dash of pride.

The thought that Mirrla might have been concerned about today made me chuckle though it was understandable. Earnell was her turf — her social scene. While I was the older sibling, I had been away for a long time. Perhaps she might have been concerned I might muck things up and that it would reflect poorly on her.

"So... what was the cause of it, do you know? I mean, why has Andra been down?" I prodded, returning to the matter at hand.

"She's sad about her brother. Just before Ovi graduated ——" Mirrla paused, looking at me with a puzzled expression. "Didn't Eni explain?" She asked.

"Yes... I understand all that — but, you know — it isn't as if — he is being sent to the front!" I griped. "I hope you intend to enter a prolonged period of mourning when I go up to Varcri — I shall be offended otherwise," I quipped sarcastically.

"In that case, you should try and get as close to me as Ovi was to Andra," she said with wiggling eyebrows.

"I'm serious. It sort of bothers me how Andra and her family are taking it," I continued. "For heaven's sake — we are not at war — not a real one anyway. I hope you and Mother are going to be a bit more robust about things when I join up."

Something played across Mirrla's face for a moment, but it was gone just as quickly. "We've always known you are going to join up," Mirrla remarked flatly. "It surprised her whole family — it shocked all of them."

My sister sighed and swept her hair from her face. "Andra's parents are... they are a bit older. They had been divorced before marrying each other. I think they were counting on Oviau to be around — to take over things, you know?"

"They roll in the stuff, I take it,"

Mirrla's eyes widened as she nodded. "They are

wealthy

," she emphasised. "Both sides of the family — her mother and her father."

I knew that Enide and Andra were close, but I was also aware that Andra spent time with my family. It wasn't unexpected, given how often Enide's family and mine interacted with each other. But it occurred to me that I had little firsthand acquaintance with Andra.

However, before I could delve deeper and satisfy my curiosity, my sister, who had been preoccupied with something else all along, interjected and diverted the conversation.

"Never mind Ovi — what about Eni?" she urged, yanking the topic on a tangent.

I responded cautiously, "Ah... what about Enide?" Had my mother divulged what I'd told her to Mirrla, I wondered.

Mirrla took a deep breath. "I shouldn't tell you this — but it's for Eni's own good — and yours too," she said conspiratorially. "You can't tell anyone — promise?"

"I — yes... of course. I won't tell anyone."

"Rody — promise?" Mirrla reiterated with emphasis.

"Yes, Mita I promise — what is it?"

"Enide likes you... hmm, wait, no... let me start again," my sister came to an agonising pause before beginning anew. "Eni used to like you. She told Rebeka and Rebeka told me but eventually, we all knew. Even Mother and Aunt Broni teased her about it a few times. She never denied it, but that was a while ago. She hasn't mentioned it though — lately."

"Well, Mita... this is a fine revelation to spring on a chap. 'Girl used to like you, but is over it now' — hold the front page!" I belched.

Predictably my sister seemed to be deriving a great deal of amusement from my predicament. Mirrla chuckled but finally continued. "I had forgotten all about it. I mean, we all had — you know? When you came back — none of us thought, 'Oh, how will Eni react?' I just thought it was a passing crush," she elaborated. "But then... she turned up for lunch — dressed like that!"

"In her gardening garb? I thought she'd lost track of time." I said, trying to decipher Mirrla's reasoning.

"Oh, come on! 'Lost track of time' my foot!" she frowned. "Everyone found it funny. If you weren't busy making moon eyes at Eni, you'd have noticed how we were all tittering behind your back."

I couldn't care less if the entire town of Earnell had been laughing at me — I had more pressing matters on my mind. I took a deep breath. "Explain this to me," I asked, seeking clarification. "How does Eni turning up for lunch looking ready to spend the day digging trenches suggest to you that she still likes me?"

"She was trying to prove to herself she was over you — that there was nothing special about you coming back," my sister explained. "I know you haven't been around for a while so take my word for it — Eni wouldn't ordinarily turn up dressed like that for lunch with guests."

Mirrla delivered all this with such unwavering conviction that I was sorely tempted to accept all she said without question. Nevertheless, I harboured some reservations.

"Mita... I don't know ——" I began to say, but Mirrla wasn't done.

"Rody, trust me — look, Rebeka even teased her about it today — and then Andra asked her directly — she asked Eni if she still liked you," my sister informed me, determined to dispel all uncertainty.

"Well... for heaven's sake! Tell me what Enide said?"

"So... you fancy her as well?" Mirrla teased impishly.

I rolled my eyes at her impatiently. "I thought, my moon eyes had established that beyond doubt."

"That — and how you were drooling after her," she taunted.

"I don't drool!" I grumbled defiantly. "I... smoulder."

"How long have you been smouldering for her?"

"Never mind that!" I barked in exasperation. "Tell me what Eni said!"

"What about?" she asked and pouted with feigned innocence.

"Mirrla Strundis — I will tip you out of this room on your arse if ——"

"Aright Rody, no need to get huffy," Mirrla purred, preening with satisfaction. "Eni didn't say anything in particular... but she didn't deny it — I mean, liking you still. She sort of sighed sadly and said she didn't think it could work out."

I expect my forlorn sigh was no less melancholic than Enide's had been. "She isn't wrong you know," I sighed.

Mirrla spoke quietly. "Why can't it work out?" she asked earnestly, her attitude devoid of mischief.

"Do you think Eni would come up to Kemberi with me?" I asked by way of a reply.

"No," my sister replied reluctantly.

"There is your answer," I whispered.

"You could stay here," Mirrla retorted without heat. "Go to university in Braxa."

"Do you know how hard it is to get into Varcri? What about all the money Mother and Father have spent on sending me to Fortunbrae so ——"

"You had a scholarship," my sister reminded me.

"A partial scholarship," I corrected. "There is no full scholarship to Fortunbrae."

"Well, Lilac is expensive too ——" she said, referring to her school, but trailed off without finishing her point.

"I don't know — look... if you were in my shoes, would you stay?" I asked.

"Neither of you has to decide anything for months," my sister told me, sounding a little exasperated. "And if it were me, I'd at least

consider

staying."

I sighed, looked up at the ceiling, and back at my sister again. Her slippers were dangling from the tips of her feet as she sat on the bed. "I'm not going because I like being away Mita — you do know that, right?" I told her. It occurred to me that my sister and I had never really spoken about any of this before. "We don't come from money, not like Eni or Rebeka ——"

"We are not poor," Mirrla stated.

"No, we aren't — I suppose we are what they call comfortably off," I agreed. "But we will have to make our own way in the world," I explained. "Eni and Rebeka — I suppose Andra too from the sound of it — they can expect to inherit an income of some kind when they come of age. They might not have to work if they don't want to. I know Aunt Broni hates the idea of the girls being idle, but you know what I mean, don't you? They'll always have that layer of security."

Mirrla nodded diffidently.

"And it isn't just about money," I went on, wanting to make myself understood. "Take Andra's brother — this Ovi chap. It sounds like he was being groomed, being prepared to take over their family's business. No one is going to groom me or give me something to run when the time comes. I'll have to convince people to hire me — hopefully, at a good firm. The men they hire for those jobs are ones who went to the right schools, graduated from the right universities and have a good service record. A man's military record — it's very important if you want to advance."

"You could serve at home," my sister suggested.

"Do you mean with the Home Guard? That doesn't look nearly as good," I told her as I shook my head. "Besides, I might still end up being sent to the other side of the country. I wouldn't be much better off than if I were abroad. At least in the army, serving abroad gets you a pretty good wage and after five years, you get an officer's pension. It's not much, but it's something — a cushion for the future."

"I know..." Mirrla said, sounding forlorn. Her shoulders seemed to droop. "Father has explained it all," she said, though she sounded less than convinced.

My sister had a closer relationship with my father than I did. It wasn't that Father and I disliked one another, only that we both seemed at a loss for words when it came to talking to each other. I had the sense that my father was the sort of man who was more comfortable speaking to his daughter than his son. Nevertheless, it had been his ambition for me to go to Fortunbrae. It was something he felt he had missed out on, something which had held him back.

"Especially after everything with Oviau, Eni isn't going to want to become a military girlfriend," my sister offered in a deflated tone.

"I know — that's what I thought too," I told her.

Mirrla looked about as crestfallen as I felt. It wasn't hard to see how the idea of me and Enide getting together might have appealed to her. I wanted to cheer her up. "Look... there is no need to feel too glum about it. I'm going to spend my summer in the company of four pretty girls," I reasoned. "I can think of worse spots to be in."

Mirrla regarded me sceptically. "You're going to spend most of your time with Eni and Andra." It was a statement but carried a certain questioning lilt.

I nodded. "I suppose you and Rebeka have school still but ——"

"You are going to spend the next four months with Enide and Andra..." Mirrla repeated archly then paused for dramatic effect, "...without things getting out of hand?"

"Umm... well ——" I stuttered. The myriad ways things could 'get out of hand' between the sexes was not something I was comfortable discussing with a fifteen-year-old girl. "Uh... I mean — we are all grown-ups and all that — I'm sure everyone will keep a lid ——"

"Hah-hah-hah," Mirrla laughed derisively. Evidently, she was not willing to endorse my interpretation of things. "I give it two weeks — three, at most..." she said, then stood and walked toward the door.

"Two weeks — three weeks? Until what?" I inquired from my sister's back as she walked away.

"Until one of them sleeps with you," she declared casually over her shoulder. "Night, night."

"Mirrla!" I yelped with incredulity and rose from my chair with a bound, but the rascal was out of the door already — almost. Just before the door clicked shut behind her, she reversed course and pushed the door open again.

"Oh by the way," Mirrla remarked.

"Er... yes?"

"I forgot to tell you... Mother said Uncle Eri is coming to visit," my sister announced gaily.

- - - - - - - -

I chuckled at Mirrla's antics and decided her remarks had been nothing more than an attempt to get a rise out of me. Still, it did irk me that she appeared to believe I was clueless when it came to women.

Granted, I had not engaged in any kind of long-term romantic entanglements at school but I'd hardly been alone in this. The only boys who had steady girlfriends were "day students" — the boys who lived near the school and didn't board with the rest of us. At Fortunbrae, there were less than two dozen such students. They were only allowed to attend by special dispensation as the boarding ethos was considered part of the training instilled by the school.

Literary works about young men my age are filled to the brim with characters who went to boarding schools and are terrified of girls. Naturally, I don't relish these portrayals. For one thing, my time at school had not been entirely devoid of feminine contact. The regime at Fortunbrae took the social development side of the business rather seriously. It would have been a rum thing if one's expensively educated progeny — touted as an example of self-sufficient masculinity and all that — was found to be a sputtering numpty when in the presence of a female. Not good for repeat business I reckon.

As expected, we received lessons on biology, the mechanics of sexual intercourse and what-have-you. Of course, there was also instruction on proper form when it came to interacting with the female of the species, advice on conduct during the act and dire warnings against imposing ourselves.

On top of all this, our tutors were perpetually organising social events with nearby schools. The girls would host us and we in turn would host them. There were parties, picnics, dances — quite a busy social calendar when it came down to it, all aimed at having us plodding males and the fair opposite acclimated to one another.

Not that I am implying boys and girls were permitted to mingle

too

freely during these events. Not a chance! There was a great deal of adult surveillance, designed to ensure nothing of the sort could occur.

Though I generally enjoyed them, I never found myself coming into alignment with any of the young ladies in attendance. I think both the girls and we boys found these events to be rather forced and sterile.

I had more gratifying experiences in less formal situations. During shorter school breaks, those of us who came from further afield were frequently invited to stay with pals. It was common to find oneself in the presence of one or more sisters in the household.

Away from the laboratory conditions of school socials, I found I could schmooze and flirt with girls more easily. On more than one occasion, things got as far as a bit of fervid kissing and less-than-chaste caresses while sitting on an out-of-sight bench. In the end, my stay with the family would be brief and with scarce chances for privacy, that was as far as things could get.

I doubt this will come as a revelation but like many of my peers, I succumbed to the temptations of the brothel. Not that I wish to brag about that sort of thing — I am aware of the vices inherent to such places. Still, when all is said and done, visiting the bordello is a routine, even mundane part of boarding school life. Blame it on youthful curiosity, lustful passions and all that.

In my defence, I feel there were extenuating circumstances. As I have already described, I had experienced certain issues with my equipment. Although the problem had eventually been addressed, a degree of anxiety persisted. In a way then, I like to believe there was an element of medical necessity to this aberration in my conduct.

Uncle Stegnas had done his best to reassure me. My mother's older brother is the personification of a Brahi patriarch — reserved, stoic and not given to coddling. However, despite his apparent detachment Uncle Steg possessed a deep, unwavering love for his family. What I mean to say is that, while I love my Uncle Steg dearly and hold him in the highest regard, offering solace and encouragement is not something he excels at.

His advice had been to accept my condition rather than becoming preoccupied with it, as he believed a body was ultimately temporary, subject to change and therefore not worth obsessing over. He also suggested — in the most extraordinarily roundabout way — that in his experience, women tend to appreciate that sort of thing.

Shortly after I had my consultation with the surly physician, Uncle Erilik, my mother's younger brother, came for a visit. Though I never saw them quarrel, Uncle Erilik was in many ways the polar opposite of his older brother. While Uncle Steg was a disciplined and respectable character, Uncle Erilik was rather more of a free spirit and not above resorting to shoddy methods.

For instance, it was Uncle Eri who gave me my first cigarette. He also gave me my first drink of liquor, let me drive his car when I was thirteen and taught me how to fake a high temperature to get out of a class. There was often talk of overseas business ventures and unseen associates but I suspected that Uncle Eri's primary source of income was gambling.

I often found it easier to talk about certain things with Uncle Eri than with other adults in my family. I suppose that's why I broached the subject of my enlarged phallus with him. Uncle Eri deserves credit for restraining his laughter and mustering up a few vague words of reassurance. What stuck with me, however, was his suggestion that I should get on and lose "it" which I took to mean my virginity. This was so that I would avoid developing, as he put it, a "complex about the thing," adding that there were bound to be boys at my school who could help arrange things.

As was his wont when matters of this nature arose, Uncle Eri's aptitude proved dependable. There was indeed a clandestine and methodical system in place at my school to accommodate this kind of thing. In an odd sort of way, it made you proud of your fellow schoolmates.

It's strange how much we seem to learn by osmosis, knowing things without knowing how we know them. At school, we all knew visits to the cathouse went on but not how or where. Once I had floated the idea of a visit to a house of ill repute among a few trusted friends, I was quickly introduced to the right people. After a bit of vetting and prodding, I was deemed fit to attend and received a kind of introductory seminar in brothel etiquette.