“Good morning, mother.” Pétur solemnly said.

“Good morning Pétur.” Marika calmly greeted her son. “I wanted to talk to you before you left this morning so there are no misunderstandings between us. Have a seat and eat your breakfast.”

“Of course, mother.” Pétur coldly responded as he sat down at the table.

Marika placed a large plate of seasoned eggs and sausages in front of Pétur. She returned with the kettle of hot water and poured it into a small drinking bowl. The bowl held ground up leaves from various savory plants. The tea was ready with a quick stir from her wooden spoon, filling the air with a pleasing fragrance.

Pétur was confused at the expensive meal he saw before him. “Mother, is this all really for me?”

“It is, son.” Marika softly spoke.

“Is something wrong? Did babka die?” Pétur hesitantly inquired.

Marika smiled. “No, your grandmother is very much alive and well. She will probably outlive half the village.”

“Then what is all this for?” he questioned.

“I wanted to rectify my overreaction yesterday. So, I decided to make you something other than kasha or borscht for breakfast.” Marika slowly spoke.

“Does this mean that I do not have to go to the church today?” Pétur slyly posed.

With a restrained response, Marika replied, “No. You are still going, but I wanted there to be an understanding between us. You are getting to an age where your father would have trained to be a fisherman.”

“I still can do it! I have spoken with some of the other fishermen, and they said they will teach me.” Pétur enthusiastically blurted out.

“No!” Marika yelled before calming herself. “I have lost my husband, and I will not lose my son as well. The sea is an evil place and is off-limits to you. You may learn any other trade but fishing. Start eating, and I will explain.” Marika began tearing up before she wiped her eyes.

Pétur started eating the eggs, which he thought were surprisingly good. He blew on the tea before sipping it. It awakened his senses and made everything taste fresh. The sausages were stuffed with tomatoes and several delicious seasonings. Pétur thought this was the most lavish thing he had ever eaten and wondered how his mother had paid for it.

“As I was saying, you are becoming a man. There are things to be done regarding your preparation for adulthood. Part of this is selecting a trade to become a useful member of the village. Another part of this is courting the appropriate match.” Marika eloquently stated.

Pétur choked momentarily when his mother referenced dating. He quickly recovered with a sip of tea and a deep breath.

Marika glanced over in his direction before continuing. “This past year, I have had to be both mother and father. In this have I failed you because I am not a man, let alone your father. I do not have the rights and privileges of a man. Nor do I understand the will of Vadim the way the Kaplan does. I would gladly trade places with any man of the village if it meant I could be a father to you, but I cannot. I am just a woman, and no such power exists to change that fact.”

“Don’t say that mother. You are amazing. I am not sure how, but you have managed to take care of me and babka this last year.” Pétur consoled his mother. “Besides, being a woman is not all that bad. You get to take care of a home, create a family, and wear beautiful clothing.”

“Pétur, that is sweet of you to say, but sweetness does not put food on the table. I am trying to make the point that I need your help to take care of Edda and this house. I have done everything I can, but I do not know the ways of men, nor should I. This is why I have asked Kaplan Rufa for his assistance. He has no children of his own, and he is a close friend from childhood.”

“But he is so strict and goes on forever,” Pétur whined.

“Be that as it may, he will teach you how to be a man and help you to settle on a trade. Something I am ill-equipped to do. To that end, you will also need to perform your prysiaha. I know you want to be a free spirit like your grandmother, but she was not born here. Her blue eyes only draw disdain and suspicion from the villagers. If not for my efforts after you go to sleep, we all would starve.” Marika took a breath, trying to remain poised.

“What do you mean efforts?” Pétur wondered aloud.

“Edda would say I am performing some wicked act with the Kaplan because she sees me leave late in the night and return early in the morning. The truth is much more mundane than that scandal she dreamt up. The Kaplan allows me to clean and cook in exchange for meager rations. He has me come at night since the employment of women is forbidden. Rufa always had an eye for me, but I was deeply in love with your father. He chose to become our town’s Kaplan, and I married the foreigner. Despite what whispers that may have reached you, I was just trying to keep us from being cast into the wilderness.” Marika expressed with shame in her voice.

Pétur dove across the table to hug his mother and whispered, “I love you. Never be ashamed that you have to work. I think women should be allowed to work.”

Marika gasped slightly, then took Pétur’s hand. “I love you too Pétur, but please do not say that to anyone else. They might think Vadoma has warped your mind in some way.”

A moment passed between them when Pétur finally stood up, letting go of his mother’s hand. “I will study and work hard today to make you proud.” He gathered himself emotionally and, without a word, smiled at his mother before walking out of the house.

Wilk tried to follow behind Pétur but was stopped short by the abrupt door closing. Wilk began to howl slightly when Marika picked him up. She started to pet him soothingly. “It will be okay little one. He will be back home later tonight to play with you.” Marika kissed Wilk’s head and started to tear up. She returned Wilk to the floor and grabbed an old chicken bone she had saved for broth. Marika playfully gave it to Wilk, who delighted in the treat. He immediately grabbed the bone and disappeared while gnawing it the entire way. Marika went to her room to rest.

***

Pétur made his way up to the western side of Monsa as he had many times before to attend church. His eyes looked over the simple building made of white marble stones. Gazing skyward, he saw the roof had two sides meeting at a heightened horizontal ridge. It was covered in specially designed interlocking stones made from red jasper. The church had four small circular towers in place of corners, each capped with gold to better reflect the sunlight. It sat on the edge of the westernmost cliff overlooking the ocean. He walked to the back of the church, staring over the cliff into the deep hues of the sea. Pétur thought the waves seemed calmer from this distant vantage instead of his usual refuge overlooking the dock. The mountains’ shadow cast darkness on the closest parts of the water below, adding some mystery to the deep. The natural beauty entranced Pétur so much that he did not hear the familiar footsteps behind him.

“Mr. Sila!” roared Kaplan Rufa, who had put his hand on Pétur’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”

Startled, Pétur turned around and said, “Apologies Kaplan. I got lost in my thoughts again.”

“Ah. Yes. The sea will do that to a young mind. I suspect young people are drawn to the chaotic spirit of the sea since they, themselves, have a tendency to cause chaos.” Kaplan Rufa mused aloud. “Well, let’s go inside to talk.”

After a few minutes of walking, Pétur found himself in Kaplan Rufa’s office. He looked around to see a plainly decorated room that faded into the white background except for a single piece of furniture. The Kaplan had a dark oak writing desk that seemed uncommonly ornate with Monsan religious symbols. It had a single drawer in the center with four smaller drawers making up a short hutch. Pétur sat down in the provided chair as the Kaplan sat at his desk.

“Pétur. I suspect your mother has explained why you are here?” Kaplan Rufa diplomatically inquired.

“Yes. I am to learn about the trade of the Kaplan and other trades so that I can one day take care of my mother and grandmother.” Pétur responded.

The Kaplan leaned forward towards Pétur. “It is more to it than that. I am to teach you the ways of becoming a man. You evidently have not been able to sort out what is expected of you.”

“Ah, yes. I forgot that part.” Pétur sheepishly smiled.

“I understand that you refused three young women before you had even begun courting. I must ask why?” insisted the Kaplan.

“In truth Kaplan, I do not find myself interested in …” Pétur paused to select the strategic word. “… courting …”

The Kaplan raised an eyebrow and glared at Pétur as if he had just sprouted a tail and ears. “You what?”

Pétur hastily blurted out, “… since my father died.” A wave of panic flurried over Pétur as he sensed the Kaplan’s growing anger. “I do not seem to be interested in much of anything.” Proud of his quick thinking, he held back a grin as he saw the Kaplan’s facial expressions relax.

“Ah yes. This, too, makes sense to me. I understand the pain you must feel losing your father at such a critical age. With that being said, you must push past this numbness. All men, even a Kaplan, are moved by the fairer sex. Moreover, we have a sacred responsibility to shelter those frail creatures from the dangers of the world.” The Kaplan oozed self-righteousness and confidence.

“If women are so frail, how is it my grandmother and mother can manage without a man, Kaplan?” Pétur antagonized.

“They do not. Their survival is granted by my charity and nothing else.” Kaplan Rufa coldly glared into Pétur’s eyes. “Remember, I am Vadim’s voice, and to show the proper respect when you address me.”

“Yes, Kaplan,” Pétur replied, having his annoyance deflated.

“I think I understand the problem and, more clearly, the solution. I am aware that you have no experience interacting directly with women. Given your loss, I suspect this has also shaken your courage. So, part of each day forward, I will grant you the opportunity to learn how to interact with women.”

Dread had found its way into Pétur’s mind. He wondered what insanity had overcome the village’s most holy of figures. He regretted that promise he made to his mother and started contemplating running away. Different imaginary scenes played out in his mind as the Kaplan rattled on about, enshrining his embarrassment in the House of the Sun God.

“I have a young woman of mixed ancestry not unlike yourself in my charge. Although her people are long dead, whereas I believe your father’s people have a port town not too far from here.” The Kaplan refocused himself. “She lives here at the church, and I believe she is around your age. She has not made her prysiaha either, so I think the two of you may be in similar situations. You will both do your daily chores together, giving you a chance to talk. Although she is not eligible to court, you may find her useful enough to build your courage around women.”

Chores? Girls? Pétur had decided right then and there that his mother and grandmother would have to make do without him because he was definitely running away now. It would be him all alone in the world. Pétur paused due to the inevitability of loneliness and reenvisioned that scenario to include Wilk. ‘Pétur and Wilk exploring the world, just a person and their wolf’ flashed through his mind as if it was one of his grandmother’s stories.

The Kaplan called Pétur’s name three times before he snapped out of his daydream. The Kaplan had managed to appear behind Pétur while he still sat. “I said let me introduce you to Sileny, my ward.”

Pétur nervously stood up and turned around. He saw a girl with black hair and fiercely blue eyes that rivaled his own. Her hair was parted in the middle with multiple braids from the sides. The braids on each side seemed to be twisted together with a longer braid spiraling around the clusters. Her hair looked more like two pieces of rope than proper Monsan braids. She was wearing a light brown dress with a pinafore or jumper. The pinafore was a pale gray-white with dark purple trim and covered in stains. Strangely her disheveled appearance made Pétur feel at ease since he was often careless with his own appearance.

Sileny curtsied, and Pétur bowed in the traditional Monsan way. Pétur studied her face and noticed that she seemed equally put off by this entire arrangement as he was. Kaplan Rufa smiled at the introductions feeling proud of his efforts.

“Sileny, show Pétur where the broom is and get started.”

“Broom?” Pétur interjected.

“Yes, Mr. Sila. Sweeping teaches focus. A quality you lack in fullness. I leave you to it.” Kaplan Rufa turned and walked back to his desk. After sitting, he looked upwards, noticing that Pétur and Sileny had not moved. He stretched forward, revealing a small silver key hanging around his neck. “Children. Go. Now!” he exclaimed, escalating his voice slightly with a sigh afterward.

Pétur and Sileny left his office, shutting the door as they went. They looked at each other and broke into laughter at Kaplan Rufa’s frustration and theatrics. The laughter dissolved Pétur’s stress and offered him hope of a new friendship. The idea that he was not the only person who didn’t fit in brought a strange comfort and joy to his mind. Perhaps he wouldn’t run away today.