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Dartmouth College Dartmouth Digital Commons Open Dartmouth: Published works by Dartmouth faculty Faculty Work 2005 Spoonwood Ernest Hebert Dartmouth College, [email protected] Follow this and additional works at: https://digitalcommons.dartmouth.edu/facoa Part of the Fiction Commons Dartmouth Digital Commons Citation Hebert, Ernest, "Spoonwood" (2005). Open Dartmouth: Published works by Dartmouth faculty. 3958. https://digitalcommons.dartmouth.edu/facoa/3958 This Book is brought to you for free and open access by the Faculty Work at Dartmouth Digital Commons. It has been accepted for inclusion in Open Dartmouth: Published works by Dartmouth faculty by an authorized administrator of Dartmouth Digital Commons. For more information, please contact [email protected]. Hebert_SPOONWOOD Darby Edition_fm_00hebertFM.i_x 6/13/14 11:02 AM Page i Spoonwood Hebert_SPOONWOOD Darby Edition_fm_00hebertFM.i_x 6/13/14 11:02 AM Page ii Also by Ernest Hebert the darby chronicles The Dogs of March A Little More Than Kin Whisper My Name The Passion of Estelle Jordan Live Free or Die Spoonwood Howard Elman’s Farewell f i c t i o n Mad Boys The Old American Never Back Down I Love U n o n f i c t i o n New Hampshire Patterns with Jon Gilbert Fox Hebert_SPOONWOOD Darby Edition_fm_00hebertFM.i_x 6/13/14 11:02 AM Page iii Spoonwood Ernest Hebert University Press of New England Hanover and London Hebert_SPOONWOOD Darby Edition_fm_00hebertFM.i_x 6/30/14 7:02 PM Page iv University Press of New England www.upne.com © 2005 Ernest Hebert All rights reserved Manufactured in the United States of America First University Press of New England paperback edition published in 2014. Spoonwood was first published in 2005 by Dartmouth College Press. For permission to reproduce any of the material in this book, contact Permissions, University Press of New England, One Court Street, Suite 250, Lebanon NH 03766; or visit www.upne.com Paperback isbn: 978-1-61168-629-6 Ebook isbn: 978-1-61168-630-2 Library of Congress Control Number: 2014940332 5 4 3 2 1 Hebert_SPOONWOOD Darby Edition_fm_00hebertFM.i_x 6/13/14 11:02 AM Page v Contents Prologue 1 Part 1 The Storm 1.1 Up. Up From From Down Down 5 5 2.2 Frederick. Frederick Elman Elman 16 16 3.3 House. House of of Correction Correction 32 32 4.4 Baby. Baby in in a Dumpstera Dumpster 48 48 5.5 Forgot. Forgot Farm Farm 62 62 6.6 Experiments. Experiments in in Living Living 72 72 7.7 Visions. Visions in in Fire Fire 82 82 8.8 The. The Old Old Rule Rule 96 96 9.9 Apple. Apple Wood Wood 103 103 10. Grace Pond 117 11. New York 122 12. Bloom 136 13. Spoonwood Documentation 143 14. In the Yellow Submarine 162 15. Cataclysm Class 186 16. My Mysterious Brother 191 17. The Wolf Pine 198 Hebert_SPOONWOOD Darby Edition_fm_00hebertFM.i_x 6/13/14 11:02 AM Page vi Contents 18. Stranger in the Birch Mill 203 19. Missy 208 20. Poachers on the Trust 214 21. House in the Trees 223 22. The Forbidden 230 23. Figures in the Whiteout 236 Part 2 The Calm 1. In the Wigwam 247 2. Paying Debts 257 3. Christmas at the Elmans’ 264 4. A Surprise for Latour 282 5. The Trust 285 6. Time 293 Hebert_SPOONWOOD Darby Edition_fm_00hebertFM.i_x 6/13/14 11:02 AM Page vii Spoonwood Hebert_SPOONWOOD Darby Edition_fm_00hebertFM.i_x 6/13/14 11:02 AM Page viii e DarDarbybbyy ChroniclesChronicles e Dogs of March A Little More an Kin Whisper My NNameame e Passion of Estelle Jordan Live Free or Die Spoonwood Howard ElmanElman’s’s FarewellFarewell Guide to thee DDarby Chronicles <erniehebert.com> N RunsRuns moremore or less INTERSTINTERSTATEAATTE E PParallelarallel too the W ConnecticutConnecticutticut 919 RRiveriverer on the S VermontVermont Side OrOriginal site of CCooty’sooty’’ss CCabinabin Sitee of formerf AbareAbare’s’’ss FFollyolly Basketvilleville sign Mountain and JordanJordan shacks GreG atatre MeadowweadoM VillageVillage NewNNeeew HampshireHHamammppshire VermontVVeermonmont DDARBDARBYARBARBY DEPOT Rte. 12 toto KeeneKeene Site of PLC Project kee’e’s’s I arn tion B TrustTTrrust Lands Cutterer PlacePlac AuctionAAuucct Barn t u Elmanlman PlacePlac GrG iicu r t aceaca P ct ce eec er e P nne ivvever nnnnnecticu ond Dorne PlacePlace o R C CENTER DARBYDDARBARBY Cuurtin McCurtinMcC Placee Hillary Farm Plac TownTown TrustTTrrust Lands Hall RIVER DARBYDDARBARBY Downed Elm nk PrimePrimevalval FForestorest Turneru andbank JordanJor er Tree House SandbankSSa orrdddan PlacePlac ce e Latour’sLatour’’’ss SpoonwoodSpoonwwood Cabin UPPER DDARBDARBYARBY TrustTTrrust LaLandsands TrustTTrrust Landsnds monon SalSSaalmona ttee aand staa ’s Ledgesedges EEsEstaotyy’s 1-Mile wherewher Birch CCoCooto wasas bborn CCaCabinabin 00hebertPro.001_002_00hebertPro.001_002 6/13/14 11:10 AM Page 1 PROLOGUE april 1985 hen he reached the ledges, where the trees fell away, the sky Wopened and he could see quite clearly. Moonlight washed over the granite. It was getting cold. Winter was returning. He hiked over the rocks until he reached the Indian camp. Lilith was only a few feet away, curled on her side, under the cover of hem- lock branches. “Lilith?” He crawled into the lean-to. He felt the blood on his hands; he could feel it soaking into the soil. He’d seen blood like this before, from the burst arteries of deer shot with high-powered rifles. “Frederick. Frederick? Is that you?” Her voice was soft as the hemlock boughs. The baby was at her breast. A ray of moonlight fell on the infant’s face. “Beautiful,” Fred- erick said. “You came back. I didn’t think you would. I thought— he’s gone, gone forever.” Her voice was soft as the sound of mist. 1 00hebertPro.001_002_00hebertPro.001_002 6/13/14 11:10 AM Page 2 Prologue “I came back to take care of you.” He knelt by her. He knew he was too late. “Frederick, I’m happy. For the first time in my life, I’m happy.” She put her hand on his beard, and then it slipped away. She shut her eyes. He slid his hand between the baby and Lilith and put it over her heart. He could feel the child’s strong, steady heartbeat and Lilith’s weaker beat. He knew that even at the end dying crea- tures can hear clearly, so he whispered, “I love you.” She opened her eyes for a long moment, and then they closed of their own accord. Each heartbeat was weaker than the last, and then there was none. The child’s heartbeat continued strong and sure, and his son drew in life from his mother’s breast. 2 01hebert.003_015_01hebert.003_015 6/13/14 11:12 AM Page 3 PART 1 The Storm a 01hebert.003_015_01hebert.003_015 6/13/14 11:12 AM Page 4 01hebert.003_015_01hebert.003_015 6/13/14 11:12 AM Page 5 a1 UP FROM DOWN ear Mother, now that I am about to die in this terrible blizzard, Dall my powers of telepathy have returned. I remember every- thing. I remember being born under the lean-to thirteen years ago. I remember the comfort of suckling on your breast. I re- member I could not quite read your mind, because you were al- ready between worlds. I know what you were feeling, though, because I am there now. I’m no longer cold, mother, just tired. I’m curled up in the snow waiting for you. I’m afraid when I get to your heaven I’ll forget this world or I won’t care, so before you come for me, while I can still remember, I want to tell you all that’s happened since you died giving birth to me. It’s June of 1985, middle of the night. I’m two months old, not sure whether this new existence is worth the trouble. Sudden light wakes me. Dad leans into my crib. His breath is rich. He runs his fingers through his beard and stares down at me. He steps back, pauses, lurches this way, then that, reaches into his pocket and pulls a snapshot out of his wallet and holds it in front of my eyes. “Birch, this is your mother, Lilith,” he says, the words slushy. “It 5 01hebert.003_015_01hebert.003_015 6/13/14 11:12 AM Page 6 SPOONWOOD was taken just before she was pregnant with you. She was nine- teen.” At this moment I cannot say what I’m looking at. I can’t even tell up from down. Even so I memorize the shape and col- ors and sounds. Maybe someday I’ll know what they all mean. Grandma Elenore comes into the room. “You woke him,” she says. “He’s not fussing. He’s got eyes like a little man from outer space.” Dad laughs nervously. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, and you’re drunk as a skunk,” Grandma says. “Don’t worry, I won’t spray.” Dad totters back from the crib, and now the light is in my eyes again. I’m thinking that if only I knew up from down I’d recognize the “you” he was trying to show me. “Are you all right?” Grandma Elenore says to Dad. “I’ll be fine, just fine, couldn’t be better if my hair was on fire,” Dad says. I live in the “guest room” of my grandparents’ mobile home. It has a creamy ceiling with warm, bright globes, a maple wood dresser, and a picture on the mauve wall of Jesus and his sacred heart. I have questions. Why do lights go on and off for no ap- parent reason? Do shapes exist in the dark, or do they come into being only with the light? Which way is up and which way is down? I drift off to sleep to a young woman’s voice.