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them back. One morningùit might have been the second or the third, she wasn't
sureùthey couldn't leave because a thick fog made the trees vanish and he'd
said they would fall off the mountain if they tried to move down. Remembering
the drop so dangerous even in clear air, she knew he was right. The next day,
or maybe some other day, there was a reason to stay. What was it? She couldn't
remember. Sometimes it seemed as if the light lasted so long that night would
never come, and at other times, the periods between day and night and day
again flittered by in minutes. He liked it when she sat quietly and listened
to him talk, but there was often a sudden panic that demanded that she move.
When that happened, she found she could lessen the terror by action. She
circled the meadow's boundaries then, hurrying faster and faster to leave the
crawling feeling behind. He always made her stop before she was entirely free
of it and led her back to their little camp. She tried not to cry because it
seemed to annoy him, noùinfuriate him. Sometimes in the night she had to cry
because her tears choked up in her throat and she couldn't breathe, but she
learned to do it softly. Even so, he caught her at it, his thick fingers
finding the tears on her face.
And once he had touched her he would not let her go until he had touched her
all over, exciting himself and finally plunging into her. She had learned to
lie still and accept him passively so that he wouldn't hurt her, and afterward
he was nicer and calmer and left her alone. In the blackness and especially in
the fogùwhen she thought she had diedùhis hands defining her were proof that
she was still alive. When
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she didn't fight him, he was almost gentle with her. He let her breathe, and
he allowed her to live.
In the daytime, when she could see his face, he looked at her so strangely
sometimes as if there were something she should know. Once in a while, when he
came, he cried out some name or some word that sounded like "Reen" or
"Reenee," but she didn't know what it meant.
When he talked, she didn't have to think or remember and she could let her
mind rest. And when he talked, he would not fondle herùas long as she
responded correctly. When his voice made her drowsy with the deep buzzing
cadence it could have, she had to balance her answers carefully. Most of the
time, he only wanted her to listen and to look at him.
". . . some souls never die." He was staring at her again with his questioning
look.
"No. They go to be with God."
"There is no God. There is only a continuum of particular, special souls.
Special peopleùthe rest are only reflections of the best and they die like
cows. I am a special one. So are you. We will never die."
Hadn't he talked about God? She was sure it was the red man who was talking
about God a long time ago.
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"What cannot be seen by fools is truth. Do you agree?"
"Yes."
"She died when you were ten years old and became part
of you. Do you remember?" he asked. ½'!_"
"Say you remember!" He was angry, demanding an answer.
"I remember."
"I always knew you. All the times we were together, you always needed me. When
I had to leave you, you died. But when you left me, I was stronger. I was
always stronger because you belonged to me, and I possessed your soul. I never
let it go, but you hurt me when you went away."
"I'm sorry." His stories were so confusing. They made her feel dreamy,
tumbling along the tunnels he formed, trying to understand.
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"I forgave you. I always forgave you because you were weak. Do you remember
who we were?"
"I don't understandù"
"Don't make me angry. You said you remembered when you started to be Lureen."
"... oh, yes." Maybe she did remember. He was so sure of it, and she was no
longer positive of who it was that she was now. There were no mirrors here,
only his eyes, and he seemed to recognize her.
"I went to libraries and I saw our pictures in old books. We had different
names, but our eyes stay the same. That's how you can be sureùby the eyes. I
knew you when I saw your eyes. Did you know me?"
"Iùyes, I knew you." She couldn't seem to pull her gaze away from his, and she
could truly see her image in them. She finally looked away because they made
her so dizzy.
"Would you like to sing?"
"What?"
"You always liked to singùElvis's songs. Love me tender___"
She joined in because it seemed important to him. They had sung at their other
camp. .. . No. Not with him. She had sung with someone. With Danny, maybe, but
she couldn't remember.
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