Alwy waits up
Walking into her house felt like walking into the oven, even at this late hour. After the slow stroll with Egelric in the cool night air, it was terribly hard to enter the hot house – alone.
Gunnilda lit a candle and then closed the door. Bertie was sleeping naked atop his blanket, poor sweaty little thing. She undressed in the middle of the room, and then stepped over him to go back into the stifling little bedroom where Alwy was sleeping.
Only Alwy wasn’t sleeping.
“I was real worried about you, Gunnie,” he said as she set the candle on the small table next to the bed.
“What are you doing awake, Alwy?”
“I was real worried about you.”
“You know I was with Egelric.”
“I know, but I was real worried that you might get burned on the fire too.”
“Well, I didn’t,” she sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “So you can go to sleep now.”
“Well, Gunnie, but I wanted to ask you something too.”
“What is it, Alwy? I’m hot.”
“I just wanted to ask you, how come you never want to have no more babies any more? I think we should.”
“Oh, Alwy! Not tonight.”
“All right, not tonight, but how come?”
“I never said I didn’t.”
“I know, but you never even want to try.”
Gunnilda sat and watched the candle flame.
“How come?” Alwy repeated.
“Why do you suddenly want more children, Alwy?” she asked and lay down beside him.
“I don’t suddenly want, I always do. You know, Gunnie.” He tickled her bare arm shyly with his finger.
“You don’t want the children, you just want the trying,” she grumbled.
“That’s not true,” he whined. “I guess I would like to have some more boys. I guess I would like to have three boys.”
“Three boys! Lord preserve us, what are you going to do with three boys?”
“One can be a farmer, and one can be a soldier, and one can be a priest.”
Gunnilda sat up. “A priest? Alwy, we’re just farmers. Your boy can’t be a priest.”
“He can’t?” Alwy whimpered, looking devastated.
“Oh, I don’t know, Alwy. Oh, don’t cry, I don’t know nothing about priests. Maybe he can. Don’t cry, Alwy.” Sighing, Gunnilda moved closer to him and rubbed the tears from his sunburnt cheeks.
“I guess our boy is smart as any other boy,” Alwy sniffled eagerly.
“Sure he is,” Gunnilda agreed. “He’s got the devil’s own wisdom.”
“I guess if we had more boys, they’d be as smart as other boys too.”
“I guess so, Alwy.”
“Oh, Gunnie, can’t we try?”
Gunnilda closed her eyes and let her head droop in exhaustion. “Oh, Alwy, it’s hot…”
“Please, Gunnie?” he said, tickling her cheek.
She lay still a moment, her eyes closed. Finally, with a sigh, she told him, “Only if you promise me one thing.”
“What?” he begged.
“Don’t you ever make a soldier out of one of my boys,” she warned him, never opening her eyes.
“Oh, all right, Gunnie. I guess a priest and a farmer would be good enough.” He took a moment to study her little face in the candlelight, something he would never dare if she were looking at him. “You sure are pretty, Gunnie,” he whispered, before bending his head and kissing her.
