I was not so unversed that I didnt occasionally suspect this might be a calculated tactic. But when I recalled the utter innocence of her look I reflected I would have to have a very nice conceit of myself indeed to believe the two most attractive women at Haggershaven were contending for me.
I don’t know precisely when I began to see Catty with a predatory male eye. Doubtless it was during one of those times when Barbara and I had quarrelled, and when she had called attention to Catty by accusing me of dallying with her. I was essentially as polygamous as Barbara was polyandrous or Catty monogamous; once the idea had formed I made no attempt to reject it.
Nor, for a very long time, did I accept it in any way except academically. There are sensual values also in tantalizing, and if these values are perverse I can only say I was still immature in many ways. Additionally there must have been an element of fear of Catty, the same fear which maintained a reserve against Barbara. For the time being at least it seemed much pleasanter to talk lightly and inconsequentially with her; to laugh and boast of my progress, to discuss Haggershaven and the world, than to face our elementary relationship.
My fourth winter at the haven had been an unusually mild one; spring was early and wet. Kimi Agati who, with her children, annually gathered quantities of mushrooms from the woodlots and pastures, claimed this year’s supply was so large that she needed help, and conscripted Catty and me. Catty protested she didnt know a mushroom from a toadstool; Kimi immediately gave her a brief but thorough course in thallophytology. “And Hodge will help you; he’s a country boy.”
“All right,” I said. “I make no guarantees though; I havent been a country boy for a long time.”
“I’m not so sure,” said Kimi thoughtfully. “You two take the small southeast woodlot; Fumio can have the big pasture, Eiko the small one; Yosh and I will pick in the west woodlot.”
We carried a picnic lunch and nests of large baskets which were to be put by the edge of the woodlots when full; late in the afternoon a cart would pick them up and bring them in for drying. The air was warm even under the leafless branches; the damp ground steamed cosily.
“Kimi was certainly right,” I commented. “Theyre thick as can be.”
“I don’t see....” She stooped gracefully; “Oh, is this one?”
“Yes,” I said, “And there, and there. Not that white thing over there though.”