Omago shrugged. ‘Everybody’s got problems of some kind, Veltan. It’s nothing to get all weepy about. People come, and then they go. You know that, don’t you?’
‘You can be a very cruel person sometimes, Omago.’
‘I don’t make the rules, Veltan. All I do is follow them.’
‘How’s your father been lately?’
That startled Omago. No matter how hard he tried to conceal things from Veltan, his friend always saw right through him. ‘He’s not getting any better, I’m afraid,’ he replied sadly. ‘Sometimes he can’t even remember his own name. He keeps asking for mother, though. I don’t think he remembers that she died last year.’
‘I’m sorry, Omago,’ Veltan said with great sincerity. ‘I wish there was something I could do to help him.’
‘I don’t really think you should, Veltan. I think father’s getting very tired, and if we keep him here, it’ll just make him more sad. Why don’t we just let him go? I think that might be the kindest thing we can do for him.’
The following spring Omago was in his orchard when a vibrant woman’s voice came from just behind him. ‘Why are you doing that?’
Omago, startled, spun around quickly.
‘I’m sorry,’ the woman apologized. ‘I didn’t mean to frighten you. Why are you picking all those little green apples?’ She was quite tall, she had long, dark auburn hair, soft green eyes, and she wore a blue linen dress.
Omago smiled. ‘Apple trees always seem to get carried away in the spring,’ he explained. ‘They want to have lots and lots of puppies. If I don’t thin out the baby apples in the spring, there won’t be any of them much bigger than acorns when they ripen. I’ve tried to explain that to my trees, but they just won’t listen. It’s awfully hard to get a tree’s attention, particularly in the spring-time.’
‘You’re Omago, aren’t you?’
‘That’s what they call me.’
‘You’re quite a bit younger than I thought you’d be. You are the same Omago people come to when they want to let Veltan know what’s happening, aren’t you?’
Omago nodded. ‘Was there something you wanted me to tell him?’
‘Not right now, no. I just wanted to be sure that I’d recognize you in case something came up that I needed to let him know about.’
‘You could always go on up to his house and tell him yourself, you know.’
‘Maybe, but people tell me that he’d rather hear you tell him these things. How did you get to know him so well?’
‘He used to come here to this orchard when the trees were blooming. An orchard in bloom is prettier than any flower-garden. This was my father’s orchard back then, and I was only a little boy. Veltan and I used to talk for hours and hours, so I probably know him better than anybody else around here. That’s most likely why the local farmers decided to use me as their messenger boy. You don’t live around here, do you?’
She shook her head. ‘No. I live quite a ways away. I was very sorry to hear that your father died recently.’
Omago shrugged. ‘It didn’t really come as a surprise. His health hadn’t been too good for the past several years.’
‘You’re busy,’ she said, ‘and I’m just underfoot. It was nice meeting you.’ She turned to walk away.
‘What’s your name?’ he called after her.
‘Ara,’ she replied back over her shoulder.
For some reason, Omago couldn’t get the strange girl out of his mind. He realized that he didn’t know very much about her. She hadn’t even volunteered to tell him her name until he’d come right out and asked her.
She was obviously several years younger than he was, but her manner of speaking was hardly adolescent. She’d managed to get a great deal of information from him, but she hadn’t given him very much in return.
He tried to just shrug her off, but the memory of their brief conversation kept coming back, and it wasn’t only the conversation. She was far and away the prettiest girl he’d ever met. Her lush auburn hair reminded him of autumn, and the memory of her vibrant voice sang in his ears. He felt an almost desperate need to find out more about her.
It was spring, and there were all kinds of things he should be doing right now, but he just couldn’t keep his mind on his work.
‘I can’t seem to think about anything else, Veltan,’ he confessed a few days later.
Veltan smiled. ‘Is she still in the general vicinity?’ he asked.
‘That’s what people tell me,’ Omago replied. ‘I haven’t seen her myself, but several other farmers have. They all tell me that she’s been asking a lot of questions – most of them about me. You don’t suppose she’ll just turn around and go on back home again, do you? She didn’t even tell me the name of the village where she lives. How in the world am I ever going to find her again?’
‘I wouldn’t really worry too much about that, Omago. She isn’t going anywhere.’
‘How do you know that for sure?’
Veltan grinned broadly, but he didn’t answer.
‘I think its time for us to do something about this, Omago,’ that vibrant voice said quite firmly.
Omago dropped his hoe and spun around. ‘Where have you been, Ara?’ he demanded. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you.’
‘Yes, I know. Neither one of us is going to get anything done until we settle this. My name is Ara, I’m sixteen years old, and I want you.’
Omago almost choked. ‘Is everybody in your village this blunt, Ara?’ he asked her.
‘Probably not,’ she replied, ‘but I hate to waste time. Are you interested?’
‘I can’t really think about anything else,’ he confessed.
‘Good. Is there anything we have to go through before I come to live with you?’
‘I’m not really sure. I’ve never been very curious about this sort of thing before.’
‘That’s nice,’ she said with a sly little smile. ‘Let’s go talk with Veltan. If there’s supposed to be a ceremony of some kind, let’s get it out of the way. I’ll need some time to prepare supper for you.’
And so it was that Omago and Ara were wed that spring, and Omago’s life wasn’t ever the same after that. He never actually found out very much about her, but as the seasons passed that became less and less relevant. The wonderful smells coming from her kitchen seemed to put his curiosity to sleep, but they definitely woke up his appetite.
2 (#ulink_18878b1f-db9b-5a48-87f5-67770dc7903f)
It was on a blustery spring night about ten years after the joining of Omago and Ara when Veltan came to the door. It seemed to Omago that his friend was almost in a state of panic. ‘I need help,’ he said desperately.
‘What’s the problem?’ Omago asked.
‘This is,’ Veltan replied, holding out a fur-wrapped bundle. ‘My big brother came by and foisted this off on me, and I haven’t the faintest idea of what I’m supposed to do about it.’ He turned back a corner of the robe to reveal a very small infant. ‘I think he’s going to need food, and I don’t know the first thing about that.’
Ara firmly took the baby away from the distraught god and cuddled it to her. ‘I’ll take care of him, Veltan,’ she told him.
‘He doesn’t seem to have any teeth, Ara,’ Veltan said. ‘How can he eat without teeth?’
