Free The Wind From a Burning Woman: Six Stories of Science Fiction by Greg Bear

again. The hawk-rabbit hopped to the rockpile and stood up before the bobcat, saying, It worked real fine, I thank you. Now turn me back, and Ill go hunt my land. But the bobcat only grinned and reached out with a paw and broke the rabbits neck. Then he ate him, and said, Now the lands mine, and no hawks can take away the easy game. And thats how the greed of two hawks turned their land over to a bobcat.
    The old woman looked at me with wide baked-chestnut eyes and smiled. Youve got it, she said. Just like your uncle. Hasnt he got it, Jack? The old man nodded and took his pipe from his mouth. Hes got it fine. Hell make a good one.
    Now, boy, why did you make up that story?
    I thought for a moment, men shook my head. I dont know, I said. It just came up.
    What are you going to do with the story?
    I didnt have an answer for that question, either.
    Got any other stories in you?
    I considered, then said, Think so.
    A car drove up outside, and Mom called my name. The old woman stood and straightened her dress. Follow me, she said. Go out the back door, walk around the house. Return home with them. Tomorrow, go to school like youre supposed to do. Next Sunday, come back, and well talk some more.
    Son? You in there?
    I walked out the back and came around to the front of the house. Mom and Auntie Danser waited in the station wagon. You arent allowed out here. Were you in that house? Mom asked. I shook my head.
    My great aunt looked at me with her glassed-in flat eyes and lifted the corners of her lips a little. Margie, she said, go have a look in the windows.
    Mom got out of the car and walked up the porch to peer through the dusty panes. Its empty, Sybil.
    Empty, boy, right?
    I dont know, I said. I wasnt inside.
    I could hear you boy, she said. Last night. Talking in your sleep. Rabbits and hawks dont behave that way. You know it, and I know it. So it aint no good thinking about them that way, is it?
    I dont remember talking in my sleep, I said.
    Margie, lets go home. This boy needs some pamphlets read into him.
    Mom got into the car and looked back at me before starting the engine. You ever skip school again, Ill strap you black and blue. Its real embarrassing having the school call, and not knowing where you are. Hear me?
    I nodded.
    * * * *
    Everything was quiet that week. I went to school and tried not to dream at night and did everything boys are supposed to do. But I didnt feel like a boy. I felt something big inside, and no amount of Billy Grahams and Zondervans read at me could change that feeling.
    I made one mistake, though. I asked Auntie Danser why she never read the Bible. This was in the parlor one evening after dinner and cleaning up the dishes. Why do you want to know, boy? she asked.
    Well, the Bible seems to be full of fine stories, but you dont carry it around with you. I just wondered why.
    Bible is a good book, she said. The only good book. But its difficult. It has lots of camouflage. Sometimes She stopped. Who put you up to asking that question?
    Nobody, I said.
    I heard that question before, you know, she said. Aint the first time I been asked. Somebody else asked me, once.
    I sat in my chair, stiff as a ham.
    Your fathers brother asked me that once. But we wont talk about him, will we?
    I shook my head.
    * * * *
    Next Saturday I waited until it was dark and everyone was in bed. The night air was warm, but I was sweating more than the warm could cause as I rode my bike down the dirt road, lamp beam swinging back and forth. The sky was crawling with stars, all of them looking at me. The Milky Way seemed to touch down just beyond the road, like I might ride straight up it if I went far enough.
    I knocked on the heavy door. There were no lights in the windows and it was late for old folks to be up, but I knew these two didnt behave like normal people. And I knew that just because the house looked empty from the outside didnt mean it was empty within. The wind rose up and beat against the door, making me shiver.