VIII.

The time for Zhe-Myrrha and her children to return home had arrived. As they prepared to leave Zhe-Myrrha scanned the dug-out, with dark brows scrunched over her eyes in worry.

“We’ll return tomorrow and visit,” Zhe-Myrrha’s anxious gaze fell on the foundling sitting on the rocking chair near the stove. Now that she had awoken the net had been taken down and Hem had assembled a small pallet in its place in the corner. “If you need anything—anything at all, you know I could stay another day or so.”

Rushe-kih gathered herself up as straight as she could stand, “I will be fine, Myrrha, you will see. You must go home now and take care of your own man and your children. Don’t fret you on our account.”

“Yes,” Zhe-Myrrha smiled. “Well, anyway. We’ll be back just the same. I’m sure Oriah will be curious about the girl. ”

“I’ll come over tomorrow and bring her a present,” Ahr-tyr promised.

Zhe-myrrha pulled her towards the door, “Pshah! Silly girl, you don’t tell someone when you’re going to give them a present!”

“But I don’t want her to go away before we come back!” Ahr-tyr protested.

“Don’t worry,” Zhe-myrrha marked Rushe-kih and Hem from the doorway, “I have a feeling she’ll be here a good long time.”

“Hurray!” squealed Ahr-tyr, throwing her arms into the air, “Maybe this year I’ll get a sister and a friend!”

Hem closed the door behind them and assisted Rushe-kih back to her bed. The girl followed behind and sat beside Rushe-kih. Pulling on Rushe-kih’s sleeve, she pointed toward the door.

“Zhe-myrrha, Ahr-tyr,” she began, and pointing at Hem she continued, “Hem.” She touched Rushe-kih again as she recalled, “Ah-ni.” She stopped. Tentatively she pointed at herself.

“Yes? And what is your name?” Hem prodded.

With eyes questioning she jabbed at herself again.

“I don’t think she remembers it, Hem. I think she wants us to tell her what her name is,” Rushe-kih whispered. Rushe-kih laid her hand on the girl’s chest. “Zicahla,” she pronounced, her eyes boldly to meeting Hem’s.

The girl gazed down at Rushe-kih’s hand. She sucked in slightly and smiled, “Zicahla.”