"No," he said. "It does not matter."
"Where can I get more medicine?" Della asked. "The ride over in the boat was so difficult, I'm already feeling pain again."
"Was it truly difficult, the way you sat there doing nothing?" I asked.
"There is no more medicine," the warden said. "You were warned to take care of what you were given." Then he turned to me. "What is your name, grub?"
"Ani Mells."
He humphed, then called out to the other newcomers, "Everyone report to the food tent at the top of the hill. You'll be given instructions for your new life here, for as long as you have it. Accept what is required of you, and you will be provided with food and shelter in your end days."
I started forward with the others, but the warden put a hand on my shoulder and held me back. His hand felt just as oily as his hair looked. "Not you."
"I haven't eaten since yesterday morning," I said. "If you want to punish me for what happened in the water, that's fine, but could you do it after I've eaten?"
He only frowned. "Follow me."
I glanced back at Della as I followed the warden. She was gloating over her victory and telling everyone around her that I deserved whatever was coming for me next. Maybe she was right about that, because if I were in that water with her again, I'd do exactly the same thing as before.
I looked at Weevil next. He'd been standing near Marjorie until she obeyed the orders to go to the food tent. I knew the determined expression on his face now. The last time I'd seen it, he and I had ended up repairing a big hole in Farmer Adderson's barn roof. It turned out my parents were right--gunpowder was not a toy. To be fair, we had expected a much smaller explosion.
Now Weevil took a deep breath, then suddenly charged at Della, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder and walking with her toward the water. She screamed and began pounding his back with her fists, but he was strong enough to keep control of her.
The warden turned and yelled, "You, grub--put her down!"
"Yes, sir," Weevil said, and dropped Della into the water. He brushed his hands together as he turned around, then walked back up the beach and faced the warden directly. "I've heard that there are consequences for dumping Della Willoughby into the water."
"This is why we never wanted grubs in the Colony. Your people take a delight in causing trouble--that's how you all are. I tried to warn the governor." The warden sighed. "You'll both come with me, then."
"What were you thinking?" I hissed at Weevil as he walked.
"Did you see how angry she was?" he said, glancing back at Della, who had just climbed onto the shore again.
"Of course she was angry. You shouldn't have done that!"
"Yes, I should have." He took my hand, and this time there were pieces of dried meat in his hand. I couldn't imagine where he had borrowed them from, but I wasn't about to ask. His other hand was in the pocket of his trousers. I also noticed for the first time that his pockets appeared to be full.
I slipped the meat into my skirt pocket, surprised to find a few wheat kernels there. Bothered by that discovery, I withdrew the meat and kept it in my fist instead, eating the pieces as quickly as I could. It wasn't a lot, but in that moment, it was enough. Weevil had given me more than a little food. He gave me hope and friendship, and maybe the feeling that in the end, everything would be all right.
Once I was finished, I took his hand again and gave it a squeeze. Wherever we were going, I'd try my best to lighten the burden of Weevil's punishment. I owed him that much. But I also knew full well that nothing I could do would ever repay what he had just do
ne for me.
We followed the warden past the old prison on our right and saw the food tent even farther away. But instead of going there, which I'd have been perfectly happy to do, we entered a large yard that had been cordoned off by a split log fence. Other than a few crates that probably contained supplies for the care of the people here at the Colony, the area was empty.
Thin grasses were scattered around the yard, but otherwise nothing meaningful was growing here except for a single vinefruit tree, which must've been transplanted here years ago. They weren't native to anywhere but river country, and most townsfolk considered them hugely oversized weeds. I immediately wanted a vinefruit, though they were all out of reach. The meat had taken the edge off my hunger, but it had also whetted my appetite for something more. A swallow of medicine perhaps. It felt like a hecklebird was pecking at my head.
Hanging high in the tree was what could only be described as a round wooden cage, one that'd barely be large enough for me, a painful proposition for Weevil, and an impossible fit for the both of us. It couldn't be our intended punishment.
The warden pointed to two worn dirt spots on the ground and said to each of us, "Stand there, facing each other."
Weevil and I did as we were told. We weren't far apart, but still wouldn't be able to touch even if we had both reached forward. While we exchanged quizzical looks, the warden went over to a crate and opened it, withdrawing a long, stiff rod.
Now the punishment was becoming clear, and I didn't like it one bit.
If I had groveled at Della's feet and begged forgiveness for existing, perhaps Weevil and I could've avoided this fate. It might've saved us from being struck with that rod. Yet even to avoid punishment, I was not that girl. I hated the idea of having to beg, from Della, or from anyone.
"If this is the punishment, they don't know River People," Weevil muttered to me as the warden walked back toward us.