Over a supper of brown rice served on a bed of green rice, accompanied by rice wine, Nanny tries to steer the subject away from Elphie’s big-mouth behavior. “Nessa,” she says, spooning rice into Nessa’s maw, “you’ve done such a good job at growing stronger. You’ll be dancing one day on your own two feet, and no one needed to escort you around the floor.”
“I won’t ever get anyone,” says Nessa. “So I’ll dance by myself or not at all.” A few grains of rice slip onto her chin. Nanny wipes them away.
“Your balance is improving by the day,” Nanny continues blithely. “I’ve never understood how you could trip and fall into that rice paddy. Of course you shouldn’t have been walking out there at all, you naughty things.”
“Elphie was right behind me,” says Nessa in a curious delivery, noncommittal.
“You were taking all due care, I’m sure, Elphie,” says Nanny. Her attempt to keep the conversation from reverting to hymn tunes, so blatant. But still.
“I did my best,” says Elphie.
“Oh, no one is suggesting otherwise. You wouldn’t try to drown her, you’re her sister. Nessa, you’re not casting wicked aspersions upon your sister!”
“I was in front,” says Nessa. “I didn’t see. There was a slip, a rocking of the beams. Of course, I’m not accusing Elphie of anything.” But such flatness of tone.
Frex is looking up from his portion. Lei Leila’ani has paused with the serving spoon in midair. Elphie can’t speak, neither to defend herself nor to confess that she herself doesn’t understand what happened that twisted moment in the lagoon gardens. The longer the silence, the heavier the unstated possibilities.
It’s Shell who can’t bear it, little Shell. “It wasn’t Elphie,” he says. “You know it wasn’t, Nessa.”
“Of course, how could it be Elphie, she’s my sister,” says Nessa.
“It was those Dwarf Bears. They came running to sniff us all over and they rocked the beams. It wasn’t Elphie’s fault.”
“Shell, you’re out of your pea-brain,” snaps Elphie.
“I’m not,” says Shell calmly. “I was there. I saw ’em. They gone and bounced Nessa into the bathwater. Like it was some kind of game. Then they saw she might sink and they got scared and they tried to drag her out. But it was mostly me who saved her. Elphie didn’t do nothing.”
“I’ll have some more rice,” says Nanny. “So good, yummy.”
“Sing us a little song,” says Lei, “a song of thankfulness, that we’re all here and no one got drowned.” She glances around the table with emergency complacency.