Free Prophecy by David Seltzer Page A

reveling in their closeness. They were swept with a feeling of well-being, a sense that everything between them was going to be all right.
    “Isn’t it beautiful …” Maggie whispered as she gazed down at the lakes and trees below.
    Rob nodded, awed by it. “I forgot the world could look like this.”
    “Maybe that’s our trouble, huh? Can’t see the forest for the trees?”
    He smiled appreciatively.
    “Really,” she mused, “I think we get so caught up in details that we forget what life is all about.”
    “What is life all about?” he asked. He was half joking, but sincerely wanted to hear her answer.
    “Us. What’s inside of us. If that’s empty, then there’s nothing.”
    “You feel empty inside?”
    She kept a straight face. “No.”
    “Me, neither. Not right now, anyway.”
    They glanced at each other, and he kissed her cheek.
    “Can this be true?” she asked. “Have I done something right lately?”
    He laughed and cradled her head against his shoulder, his eyes drifting to the window.
    “You know,” he mused, “yesterday I walked the streets of a city where six thousand people live in a single block, stacked up on top of each other and side by side, asking only for enough space to lie down at night and stand up in the morning.”
    Maggie glanced up at him. His eyes were on the forest.
    “Today I’m flying over three hundred square miles of wilderness that a handful of people are claiming is
     
    63
     
    all their own.” He shook his head, unable to fathom it. “Children die of malnutrition while farmers pour surplus supplies of milk down the drain
    …”
     
    “Why do they do that?”
    “To drive the prices up.”
    “How awful.”
    “That’s what it’s all about. Profit. The tenements … the trees … starvation …”
    His voice trailed off, his eyes etched with despair.
    “Can I tell you something?” Maggie asked softly.
    “Mmmm.”
    “It’s wonderful that you worry about those things. It’s something I don’t seem capable of doing.” She paused, wanting to make her thoughts clear. “But the part that worries me is that you sound as if you feel personally responsible.”
    “I guess I do.”
    “There’s only so much you can do, Rob. The world is too big.”
    He nodded and glanced at her with appreciation.
    “Ever read Small Is Beautiful?” she asked.
    “What’s that?”
    “It’s like it sounds. It’s a book.”
    He looked at the unopened book in his lap. “Bet it can’t compare to Hydroponics and Industrial Hazards,” he joked. “Now, that’s an exciting book.”
    “Don’t tell me the ending,” she quipped.
    He smiled sadly to himself and shook his head. “I fear what the ending is. I really do.”
    The plane swooped low and the Androscoggin airport came into view. It was no more than a dollop of cement surrounded by wilderness; on the gravel road leading to it, Rob saw two yellow cars kicking up a cloud of dust as they headed fast toward the landing strip.
    Within minutes the plane was on the ground, Rob and Maggie stepping out into the bracing wind. It was like a tonic to them; they pointed their noses directly into it, closing their eyes as it washed over them.
     
    64
     
    “Smell it!” Maggie groaned in ecstasy.
    “Pine.”
    “Mmmmmm. I’d like to bottle it and take it home.”
    “There’s plenty out there. Look at those mountains.”
    Near them on the runway, a man and woman were tying down their private plane while their two children, a boy and girl of about ten and twelve, squealed with delight as they picked through their belongings. The boy caught Rob’s eye and called over to him:
    “You going camping?”
    “Well, sort of,” Rob answered. “We’re going to be in a cabin.”
    “We’re going to be outside! On a mountain right beside a waterfall! It’s gonna take three days just to walk there!”
    “Sounds hard,” Maggie responded.
    “That’s the fun!” the boy exuberantly shouted back. Beside him, his sister was shielding