I gather my furs close to me, curious, and I am surprised when the human Claire meekly peeks inside a moment later. “Can I come in?”
“Why?” I ask.
She blinks at me with big eyes and then moves inside the howse. I notice she is carrying several large rolled-up animal hides under her arm, and she wears a bright smile on her narrow face. “I wanted your help.”
I study her, trying not to scowl. I do not know Claire well. Of all the humans, she is one of the quietest of the lot, content to sit and listen when others like Jo-see would blurt all their thoughts out for all to hear. I remember that she was Bek’s pleasure-mate for a time, but things soured between them, and she resonated to Ereven days after moving back to the main tribal cave. I like Ereven. It is impossible not to. But I do not know his mate well enough to say whether or not I like her. “My help?” I ask. “In what?”
Claire moves to sit next to the embers of my fire, dropping down onto Farli’s favorite stool. I notice that when she moves, her thick, bundled furs make her belly look more rounded with kit than usual, and I feel a stab of jealousy and grief at the sight. I would give anything to be with kit once more, my Hashala safe in my belly.
She smooths out the hides, and I see they are covered in strange, swirly designs made of charcoal. They leak soot everywhere, and Claire grimaces as she spreads them out. “I realize this looks a little crazy, but hear me out. You heard us talking about the holiday celebration yesterday, right?”
I nod slowly, not entirely sure why this involves me. “No Poison Day. I remember.”
“Yes, that’s it. We’re going to have another, except we’re going to spread it out over several days. Well, several bad weather days.” She sounds breathless and nervous, her words almost tripping over themselves in her rush to speak. It is all very curious. Why is Claire anxious about speaking to me? I am no one to her. I may be sharp to some of my tribesmates, but Claire is such a delicate, shy thing that I would not lash out at her. I fear it would break her.
“Several No Poison Days,” I echo, still not sure what this has to do with me.
“Correct. I think we’re going to go with eight, as a nod to Nora and Hanukkah. I think she’ll like that. And it’s almost kind of sort of like Epiphany or Kwanzaa, though people don’t celebrate Epiphany much anymore. So I guess it’s more like Kwanzaa.” She stares down at the skins, thoughtful.
“Am I…supposed to know these words?”
She looks over at me, and a light flush touches her pink face. “Oh. I’m sorry. Of course not. I’m just thinking out loud.” She gestures at the skins. “There’s so much that I need to mentally unpack and get down on paper so I don’t forget, and I feel like it’s all in my head, and I don’t want to forget anything. So I’m writing it out.”
I frown down at the skins, then at her again. “I do not understand.”
“I’m sorry. I know. I’m babbling.” She clasps her hands in front of her, and somehow in the last few moments, she’s managed to smear soot on her pale, flat brow. “I keep doing that. Ereven tells me to stop, too. It’s just rambling and then I get away from my point and…I’m doing it again.” She gives me an apologetic little smile. “Right. No Poison Day. Focus, Claire, focus.”
“You wish to celebrate No Poison Day over several days,” I say slowly, still trying to guess why she is involving me. “Do you…need me to show you where the local poisons are? I am not familiar with this area, but I can identify the plants if you need.” I am still not sure why she would come to me instead of Kemli, who is the expert, but this is the only conclusion I can come to.
Claire blinks. “Oh, no, I don’t need poison. I need help organizing things.”
I am intrigued. No one ever comes to me for something like this. “You want me to help you…”
“Run the holiday celebrations, yes.” She clasps her hands and puts them to her chin, her expression thoughtful. “I can try to run it all myself, but I worry I’ll forget something important and mess things up. Plus, I’m not all that outgoing, and you know everyone. You can be my sa-khui ambassador.”
“What about your mate?”
“He’s out hunting. He won’t be back until at least tomorrow, and I want to start getting the word out to people soon so they can start working on gifts.”
“Farli would help you,” I suggest. I think I am still in shock that someone has come to me and wants my help.
“She’s busy getting food for her dvisti. And besides, Ereven told me you would be perfect to help me.” Claire’s smile is timid. “He said you’re great at getting people to listen to you, and I’m not so good at that sort of thing.”
“He suggested me?” I know Ereven well, but I had no idea he thought so highly of me. Warmth blooms in my belly. Perhaps she is right. Perhaps this is something I would be good at. Claire is definitely one of the quieter humans and could use a louder partner. “If you are certain…”
“Oh, absolutely.” Her smile widens.
“Then tell me more about what you have planned.” I pull my boots on and join her by the fire. I glance over at my sorry hearth. I have no food for a guest, no drinks. It has been so long that someone has come to visit that I have not given it much thought. “Do you want some tea?”
“That would be lovely.”
As I throw a blend of my favorite tea flavors into my boiling pouch, Claire unravels her skins with the strange charcoal wiggles on them and tells me her plans. There will be a secret gift exchange, which sounds amusing and will allow everyone to participate and receive gifts, even if they do not have large families. After the great khui sickness, many of the tribe found themselves alone, and Claire’s thoughtful suggestions about the gift game will give everyone something to look forward to.
“So you like the Secret Santa idea?” Claire asks me as I pour the tea. She looks pleased. “It’s not too confusing?”
“The only confusing thing is the name,” I tell her, sitting down with my own cup. It is rather nice to sit inside and talk of plans and things other than wallowing in my grief. Perhaps I have been stuck in my own head for too long. Perhaps I am just making myself miserable and need distractions. Whatever it is, Claire’s presence is making me feel more like myself than I have in a long, long time. “You call it Sahn-tah?”
“Secret Santa, yes. It’s because you’re acting like Santa, who is the human figure that hands out gifts. He’s an elf that wears red and comes down the chimney, uh, smoke hole.”
I glance up at the smoke hole in my own ceiling. “It seems a strange way to deliver presents. Will they not burn?”
“It does sound weird if you pick it apart. And no, we don’t have to really send our presents through smoke holes. We can leave them on people’s doorsteps, or have others deliver them for us. The spirit is to have fun above all else. We can call it Secret Gifting or something else, since the Santa thing will be weird.”
“I like the idea of secret gifting. It sounds fun.”
Claire beams happily at my praise. “It’s one of my favorite traditions, too.”
We go through her list of suggestions as we drink our tea, and I help her describe them in ways that the sa-khui will remember. A day to celebrate ‘Thanks-giving’ becomes ‘Feast Day.’ An ee-stur egg hunt is changed to a seed hunt, as eggs are now a staple of our brutal season food supplies and should not be wasted on a game. The seeds of the intisar plant are big and bulbous and have a hard shell that can be painted like the small eggs Claire mentions, and then hidden around the vee-lage. It seems a silly game to me, but when she tells me it is for the kits, it makes more sense. They will enjoy such things, and the parents will enjoy watching them. There will be a day of foot-bahl and games, a day for songs and tribal gathering, and so many other plans that I find I am impressed with Claire’s enthusiasm and determination to create so many things for people to do. “This is a great many tasks,” I tell her. “How will you possibly keep it all straight?”