Our personal business was normally done in the loo located in a shack behind the Loons. The pipes we used were next to it. There was no hot water, only the freezing variety that came out most times at little more than a trickle.
Here were thick cloths and a white cleaning bar set next to the bowl. I had seen one of those at hospital. Most Wugs just used the suds flakes you could get cheap at a shop on the High Street.
I looked at John, who did not appear capable of movement. So I stepped up to the bowl and turned on the left tap. Water flowed out with good pressure. I put my hands under it. It was warm! I picked up the cleaning bar and rubbed it across my palms. The grime came off. I wiped my face and then washed it all off with the water. I hesitated and then grabbed one of the cloths and dried myself.
I motioned to John to come and do what I had done.
When I put the cloth down, I could see that it was black with my freed dirt. As I stared at the soiled cloth, I felt shame for having besmirched something so pristine of Morrigone’s.
While John was using the pipes, I stared at the looking glass hung above the bowl. Myself looked back at myself. I had not seen my reflection for some time. It was not a pleasing sight. My face was a bit cleaner because of the bar and water, but my hair was all over the place, looking like an untidy stack of hay. I would have to give myself a hack soon.
My gaze then flitted over my clothes. They were filthy. I felt truly embarrassed to be in this remarkable place. I was unworthy to ride in the elegant carriage. I was too unclean even to ride on one of the majestic sleps.
I self-consciously rubbed at a dirt spot on my cheek that the water and cleaner had missed. My nose looked funny too, I thought. And my eyes appeared mismatched, one slightly larger and higher placed than its neighbor. In the light in here, my eyes looked more silver than blue.
I opened my mouth and counted my teeth. My mother used to do this with me as a very young. We would skip over the gaps where my very young teeth had fallen out and continue on. She made a game and a song out of it.
Tap, tap, tap, leap over the gap.
Smile big and wide, as you have nothing to hide.
John pulled on my arm. I looked down at his clean face as both the lyrics and my mum’s face faded from my mind.
“I’m done, Vega,” he said, his fear obviously gone and replaced with something even more powerful. “Can we go eat?”
QUATTUORDECIM: A Night of Queries
WILLIAM WAS WAITING for us outside the door. Still ashamed of my appearance, I kept my gaze down as we followed him along another hall. But I couldn’t resist snatching a glance here and there. I wondered how large Morrigone’s home was.
William opened another door and ushered us in. “Madame Morrigone, your guests,” he announced.
The room alone was about six yards long and eight yards wide, far bigger than our digs at the Loons, where six Wugs slept together on tiny cots that had the firmness of a bowl of mush. It was no wonder I always woke with aches and pains.
Morrigone was already seated. She had taken off her cloak. Underneath was the impossibly white robe she had worn at Steeples.
“Please come and sit,” she said pleasantly.
We did as she asked, though after seeing how dirty and disheveled I was, I could no longer meet her eye. What occurred next was something I would never forget. A female Wug dressed in crisply ironed black-and-white clothing appeared and put a bowl in front of me with steam rising off it. She did the same with John and Morrigone.
“Hearty soup will help fight off the chill of the night,” said Morrigone. She picked up her spoon and dipped it into the soup that had been set before her.
We did not, as a matter of course, use utensils at the Loons, but my parents had done so, and John and I knew how to use them. We were a bit rusty, though, and it showed when I dribbled a bit of soup onto the table and looked horrified.
The female merely stepped forward and dabbed it away with a cloth.
After the soup came cheeses. After the cheeses came breads. After the breads came greens. And after the greens came a side of cow that melted on my fork and then in my mouth along with round potatoes, ears of corn and green sprouts that were warm and tasted far better than they looked. Tiller fare rarely made its way to the Loons. We might get a few corn kernels and a bit of potato, enough for a mouthful, but that was all. I had seen ears of corn when the Tillers piled them in their cart. I had never had one on a plate in front of me. I watched Morrigone closely to see how to properly eat it.
John’s face was hovering so close to his plate that I could barely spot the food disappearing into his mouth. Morrigone had to show him that the part of the ear in which the corn kernels were imbedded was not actually edible. John was not embarrassed by this. He just kept eating as fast as he possibly could.
Males are males after all.
I too ate as much as I possibly could and then ate some more just in case I was dreaming and the feeling of being full would disappear when I woke. After the cow came plates of plump fruits and sugary confections that I had seen in the window of Herman Helvet’s shop but could never hope to buy. I noticed John surreptitiously slipping a few of them into his cloak. I think Morrigone saw this too, though she said nothing.
When we could eat no more, John and I sat back. I had never eaten such a meal in all my sessions. I felt warm and sleepy and good.
Morrigone said, “Do you desire anything else to eat?”
I glanced at Morrigone, again ashamed to meet her gaze fully.
“I think we’re fine. Thank you for such a wonderful meal,” I added hastily.
“Shall we go to the library, then?”
We followed her down the hall. I marveled at how she carried herself, so tall and straight and graceful, and I found myself trying to walk straighter too. We passed a longcase clock standing against one wall. It gonged the section of time as we passed, causing John and me to jump. Most Wugs don’t have timepieces, much less case clocks.
We settled in the library, where the fire was still blazing. I sat, with Morrigone across from me. I felt my eyes grow heavy because of the big meal and the warm fire.
John didn’t sit. He walked around the room, staring up at all the books.
Morrigone watched him curiously.
I explained, “John likes to read, but Learning doesn’t have many books.”
“Then take any that you would like, John,” said Morrigone. He glanced at her in disbelief. “Really, John, take whatever books you want. I’ve read them all.”
“You’ve read all of them?” I said.
She nodded. “My parents encouraged reading from an early age.” She looked around. “This is the home I grew up in. Didn’t you know?”
I shook my head. “No one in Wormwood knows much about you,” I said quite frankly. “They know you’re the only female member of Council. And Wugs see you from time to time, but that’s all.”
“Your parents never spoke about my family?”
“Not that I can recall, no.” I frowned because I felt I was disappointing her.
“My grandfather was Chief of Council before Thansius. This was many sessions ago of course. He actually served on Council with your grandfather, Vega.”
I sat up straight, my drowsiness gone. “My grandfather was on Council?”
“He left before … well, before his …”
“Event,” I finished for her with a frown. And I wondered once more about what Krone had said back at Quentin’s cottage. Did Council simply use an Event to explain away some Wug vanishing? If so, where was my grandfather really?
“That’s right,” she said. “You really didn’t know Virgil was on Council?”