?
, stretched his arms over his head, and sucked in an exaggerated breath. If he wanted to go out, he couldn't wait much longer to ask for permission. But as he looked around the table, he massaged the back of his neck, no longer certain he should leave.
Usually, he and his father were busy at the bakery all day, and at night, his father often snuck out to talk to his friends over games of tavli. So, having the whole family gathered to share a meal—any meal—rarely happened. But today, they had eaten together. His mother, Vanya, bounced Lev's little brother Diran on her knee, occasionally kissing his black hair and smiling as she gazed at the rest of her family. Like Jemma, his mother had donned a special dress and had braided her long brown hair. Next to her, his father had his arm wrapped around Jemma, and a smug grin creased his usually pensive face. Everyone seemed more content than Lev could remember.
But if he wanted to spend time with Nish today, sooner or later Lev had to ask if he could leave. At this rate, though, later would be tomorrow ... when the bakery would open at sunrise, and he would be stuck working all day again.
Suddenly worried he would miss a rare chance for fun, Lev tried to blurt out his request but only managed two words. "So ... Father ..." After that, he started biting his lip and tapping the table.
"Yes?" his father said.
Lev grimaced and continued. "As you know, the new governor has closed the entire city today—"
"And cost us a day's worth of sales," his father said, interrupting and shaking his head. "All so we can listen to a pompous speech about his farts smelling better than ours because he can afford to shove rose petals up his arse. Or some such Tolian stupidity. Festival or not, why would any true Hyasan go anywhere near the square today? Why give this Cassius Totoro the joy of an audience? After twenty years, do we suddenly love our oppressors? Are we so easily bribed by free food and cheap entertainment?"
"So, you aren't going?" Lev deadpanned. His father had done nothing but complain about Governor Totoro's holiday from the moment it had been announced. "You'd rather stay home? I can't believe it!"
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Lev had been trying to make a joke, but his father didn't laugh. Instead, his face tightened into a frown. "I'd rather bethan go. This Governor Totoro has a reputation, and it's not a pleasant one. They say he's even turned to the dark arts to advance his position. That he travels everywhere with a Venefican Sister. Trust me, closing D'Win for a day is nothing to celebrate. What he has planned for us will be a far cry from festivals and free time. He's here to quash the rebellion. So, instead of kissing his stinking arse, we should be trying to assassinate the bastard!"
"Arto, please," Lev's mother said, glancing at the open window and covering Diran's ears. "Enough already. You're too loud and too bold. And a Venefican? A witch? Do you really believe in such nonsense? Either way, must you say such things in front of the ... the children?"
"Yes, Father. How dare you!" Jemma said, giggling. "Ow! My ears!"
"Shush, you," Lev's father said, pulling Jemma closer. Then he nodded to his wife and sighed. "You're right, Vanya. Sorry. But it's all Lev's fault, I swear. He got my ire up with his excellent sparring this morning." He laughed and turned back to Lev. "Now ... what were saying before I started spouting things better left unsaid? Was it something to do with your day off? Something I imagine that doesn't involve staying home? Something, perhaps, with a friend?"
Lev shook his head. His father had already guessed what was on Lev's mind. "Well, since you asked ... I was wondering if I could go out with Nishan. We'd be back by nightfall, hopefully with some trout for tomorrow's supper."
"Oh, some fresh trout would be delightful!" his mother said.
"Trout! Trout! Trout!" Jemma and Diran chanted.
Lev's father shrugged his shoulders. "Looks like the family approves of your plan, Son. Have fun with Nish. And listen to him. He's not as rash as you, and these days, you need to stay out of trouble. This new governor worries me."
"Thanks, Father!" Lev said, hopping out of his chair. "Thanks!" He dashed to the door of their small home and slid his feet into his sandals.
But as Lev grabbed his fishing pole, his father stood. "Lev, before you go—" he said, waving a hand. "Hold on."
With that, he hurried from the table and disappeared into the back of their house. When he returned, he held a small book bound in dark brown leather.
"Give this to Yudi for me, please. He'll know what to do. Make sure you hide it in a pocket, though. No one, absolutely no one but Yudi, should see it."
Lev raised an eyebrow, but he accepted the book and shoved it into a trouser pocket. "Sure, Father."
His father smiled and winked. "Remember, the patient pole catches the fish. Oh, and make sure you bring back at least trout. Else I'll wonder what you two were doing."
