Starbird Murphy and the World Outside (3 page)

The third Principle says that each person in the Family is given a unique purpose, dictated by the Cosmos and translated for us by EARTH, our Family's benevolent leader. At least, he had been translating for us until he left for a Mission three years ago, forcing us to try to understand the will of the Cosmos on our own for a while. Occasional letters would come in the mail, translations from EARTH written on parchment paper, which Eve and I would mount and post in the Sanctuary. They were postmarked from California
,
but we hadn't received one in over a year. Still, those of us left on the Farm remained committed and confident that EARTH would return any day. Most of us did anyway. I did.

 
 

“Starbird is getting her Calling,” Ursa repeated, her arm still raised to point at me, specks of water from her hands dotting the hardwood floor around her.

“It's not polite to point,” said Fern Moon, pushing Ursa's arm back down to her side. “Dry your hands.”

The driver with the red bra straps turned around in her chair, her eyes still focused on me. “Are you looking for a job, Starbird?” she said. “Does this feel like your Calling?”

“I can't see that,” Fern answered. “Starbird's a farm girl, and you're talking about going Outside. She's too young for worldly influences.”

“It's tempting for birth mothers to intervene when our children get their Callings,” said Eve, walking over to put a hand on Fern's shoulder. “But we can't know how or when someone else will be Called, and we can't interfere with another person's Calling.”

Fern visibly bristled, as if Eve's touch had landed on sunburned skin.

“Your Calling, your Calling,” Ursa repeated, jumping up and down. Pavo just stood behind her staring.

“You can start tonight, if you want to,” the driver said, blowing air over her steaming cup of tea. “It would help the Family, that's for sure.”

Before I could say a word, Iron John walked in through the back door, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief and stuffing it into the front pocket of his overalls. “Wettest September I can remember.” He looked around the room full of women. “Where's Ephraim and why's the truck smoking?”

“Starbird got her Calling,” Ursa said, grabbing a water glass from a shelf behind her and handing it to Fern.

Iron looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

“It's just a job on the Outside,” said Fern as she handed Iron the glass.

“Outside,” Iron nearly whispered. “Is it your Calling?”

“To be a waitress?” I snapped. “I hope not. Maybe it's Ursa's Calling since she's so excited.”

I was joking, but Ursa shook her head at me solemnly. “It's
your
Calling, Starbird.”

Her insistence was irritating me, and so were everyone's stares. I could feel the blotches start to blossom on my chest.
They think the best offer the Cosmos is going to give me is becoming a waitress in Seattle? Thanks, Family
. Still, I didn't want to be rude to the driver, so I didn't say anything else.

“The polenta will get dry if we don't start eating, so let's put the talk of Callings on the back burner and have some lunch,” Fern said, uncovering one of the iron skillets to reveal polenta and vegetables.

One honest thing you can say about the Free Family is that we respond quickly to instructions. Plates are kept in two stacks to the left of the wood-burning range. Utensils are kept in three wooden divided trays to the right, and cloth napkins are taken from a drawer before a meal and placed on the kitchen table along with salad and home-baked bread. Ceramic cups are kept on a shelf next to the filtered water that fills two glass basins.

At Fern's instruction, we formed a line that started at the plates and placed me right behind the driver with the red bra straps.

“I'm Venus Lake.” She offered me her hand to shake. She was wearing black fingernail polish. “Call me V.”

There are clues you can pick up from knowing the name of any Free Family member you meet. If you are introduced to a Family member with a name from the Bible, like Ephraim, then you know that person joined the Family in the early days, when the Cosmos instructed EARTH to name our first babies Adam and Eve. If a member is called something reminiscent of a Native American name, like Eagle Feather, he was born or joined the Family during the short time when EARTH studied Native shamanism in the early 1980s. If your name has a cosmic combination like mine, Starbird, which includes some aspect of the heavens, like a comet, star, or asteroid, and something from the Earth, then you would mostly likely be under nineteen, born in the newest cycle of the Family, or one of the more recent joiners.

There were a few exceptions, like Iron John, who lived on the farm before the Family came, or my brother, Douglas Fir, whose spirit became so linked to the old growth on the property that EARTH never gave him a cosmic name. But, generally, the names fit into one of those three categories.

However, if you are named after one of the planets in our solar system, that marks you as an original member of the Free Family, along with EARTH, a venerated Elder. No way did this Venus with the red bra straps look old enough to be a Planet Elder.

“I know what you're thinking,” she said. “My mother was Venus Ocean, but she died giving birth to me, so EARTH gave me her name.” She shrugged and took a step closer to the polenta. “Except she was the ocean, and I'm just a lake.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“In Beacon House, mostly. I've visited the Farm for Solstice Festivals and the apple pressing, but I usually stay in the tree house with my dad, and I don't really do the Feasts or anything.” She chewed on one of her black fingernails and looked out through the back screen door.

It wasn't a total shock that I hadn't met Venus Lake before. Lots of Family members had spread out in the past decade, and even more since EARTH left for his Mission. There were Family communities in Bellingham and on an island in British Columbia, and some members lived in houses in Seattle. It had been years since the entire Family was able to fit into this one farmhouse in rural Washington State.

“So, do you have your birth certificate and Social Security number?” Venus turned back to me. “If you do come work at the café, we need more documented workers to keep names on the books. There are too many of us off-gridders.”

“I'm off-grid,” I said, annoyed that no one seemed to be listening to me when I said I didn't want to be a waitress.
Typical.
This wouldn't be happening if EARTH were here
.

“Oh well.” Venus shrugged. “Maybe it's not your Calling then.”

 
 

A few more Family members showed up and joined the line for lunch. Lyra Hay swept into the kitchen in a long, white cotton dress, finishing the braid in her hair.

“Lyra, no hair fixing in the kitchen,” said Fern, as Lyra stood over the bread table twisting an elastic band onto the bottom of her braid.

“My bad, Fern,” said Lyra with a tired smile. “Peace,” she added, holding up two fingers in a
V
shape.

Fern Moon frowned and answered, “Peace, Lyra.”

Lyra was the most recent addition to the Family, and the only person to join our group since EARTH left. She met Caelum and Indus in Bellingham, came back with them to the Farm, and never left. At first everyone called her Joan, and without EARTH around to name her in a ceremony, we weren't sure what to do when she wanted to join the Family officially. In the end, Lyra Hay chose her own name. I still think of her as Joan.

“Peace, Starbird,” said Lyra-Joan with a wide smile as she floated past me. “Peace, friend,” she said to V. V cocked her head to the side, but then mumbled back, “Peace,” at Lyra, who took her place at the end of the line. I didn't respond at all, but I did manage enough generosity to not roll my eyes.

“Lyra, did you stack the firewood in the kitchen box this morning?” Gamma Lion's voice cut through the room as she walked into the kitchen wearing her reading glasses and holding a stack of papers, her gray hair like a ragged mop. For a short and slender woman, Gamma always had a big presence in the room.