Virginia Hamilton (14 page)

I will have you me,
warned the swarm, with unflagging force.

The unit streaked and dived. It outmaneuvered the swarm, and felt safe enough to indulge in longing for home. It pondered whether it would arrive
in time.
It lengthened and shortened its worrying
in no time.
Laughed inwardly at the confusion words caused itself. It thought it might be losing its mental balance, that perhaps the t’beings had got through the Watcher. It laughed again, this time at how foolish it was to transmit itself through the non-dimension of Crossover. It cried out against the fierce turbulence. It worried that it might not have the strength of mind to set itself free. For an anti-moment it lost faith, it loosened its hold on its proper place and instant in the past. It felt it was doomed.

But the Watcher was true, was power. It guided. The Watcher lit the unit’s way through flights of ideas and awful misconceptions. Through the anti-where of nothing, the Watcher never wavered, never did not know.

Until the unit experienced the sweet sensation of cool hand holding cool hand. The Watcher was incandescence as It felt the weight of children’s flesh and bone.

Bodies, alive again!

The unit opened its eyes on lands teeming with life and sound and odor. Its mouths filled with saliva at the overpowering scents. It gagged. But soon the discomfort passed as its stomachs settled down. Still the unit could not comprehend much around it. It recognized little. It gazed up into darkness. Saw a far light. It came to know the light. The moon was shining down, fleeing behind swift clouds.

At last the unit had come to its proper time and place. But all was night, with periodic rains. Winds came up over the Trace lands, warm and wet, sweeping tall weeds. The winds brought pouring rain before they and the rains died down again.

i am the Watcher, willed the unit.

The Watcher faded from its eyes. Its mind separated into conscious and unconscious conditions—four of them—one sentient condition for each child. As the separation process took place, the Watcher sensed that Thomas touched It and persuaded It toward himself. The Watcher chose to ignore this proposition. It would keep within the child Justice as the balance for all.

Thomas released the hands he held. They all dropped their hands and slumped back against the tree trunk. They were cold, shivering and wet. The tree branches dripped on them. They were uncomfortable and afraid. They were also relieved, but still frightened, with the Crossover not yet out of their minds.

One of them whimpered and sobbed uncontrollably for a short time. It was Thomas. None of them thought it strange that so strong and, sometimes, so bad a boy should cry. One of them usually did on the return. One crying was a kind of release for all.

Justice put her hand on his shoulder. All of them pulled close, feeling the sudden pain of sore muscles, until Thomas ceased crying. He was at once uncomfortable with them. The next moment he could not tolerate any of them touching him, particularly Justice. That was all right. Thomas was Thomas. Whatever he was; good or bad, much of both or more of one than the other, he was one of them.

“Th-that w-was aw-awful,” he whispered, speaking of the Crossover. He realized he had stuttered. In the present he always stuttered, unless he was drumming or tracing.

“But the best was that the Watcher got us through,” Justice said.

“B-but b-being helpless l-l-like that!” Thomas said. “W-weee have to-to s-st-stop it. One-ce we’re l-locked in con-concen-t-tration, an-any-th-thing can g-get t-t-to us.”

“But the Watcher—,” she began.

Damn the Watcher!
he traced, in order to speak more quickly.
You can’t keep doing this!

Yet he knew she could keep doing whatever she wanted to do. The Watcher, although It was for all of them, was hers. Like some shining light turning on and off, It came from her genes. It was immense, unlike anything in the life of minds. And It was willful, just as Justice was.

“I was sure them t’beings was going to get us,” Dorian said. “I’m scared they’ll follow us back here sometime. Could it happen?”

“It could,” Justice said, “if they follow our energy flow closely enough. I’ll think about that before we go to the future again.” At once she was sorry she’d had to mention going. “Thomas, believe me, I don’t want to go either, not really.”

I don’t want to think about it,
he traced to her.
Just let’s get home.

But none of them moved. They all had felt someone creeping near. In no time they knew it was the Sensitive, Dorian’s mother. She must have been frantic when they hadn’t returned in daylight. And she had waited, terrified they would not make it back, guarding their flesh and blood all through the night.

“Come on in, Mrs. Jefferson,” Justice called out beyond the shield the tree branches made, sweeping low to the ground. Justice smiled in the dark.

Mrs. Jefferson came, her feet smacking through wet grasses.

“Shoo! Shoo!” she cried out as she came. For there were snakes all around them. There were snake beds throughout the Quinella Trace lands. Garter snakes had lived, raised young ones and died here for as long as anyone could remember.

Mrs. Jefferson stooped low and came through the branches. “Child!” she said. “Chil’ren!” She grabbed Justice’s hand, and Dorian around the neck. She hugged and kissed her only child, Dorian, as if he’d been gone a lifetime.

“Aw, Mom!” he said, sounding like the boy he was. Yet he did not pull away from his mother, and barely managed to hide the smile of happiness on his face.

Mrs. Jefferson released Justice and Dorian to grab and pump Thomas’ hand. He pulled back from her as far as he could against the tree trunk. Mrs. Jefferson grabbed anyway. “Glad to have you back, son,” she said, her voice husky with feeling.

Thomas said not a word to her. He did not speak to her if he could help it. He would not speak and stutter and have her think she was better than he was. She, in turn, didn’t take to heart his disrespect, this Number One Child, as she called Thomas. But she was mindful lest he harm the Justice child or his brother, the Number Two Child. Number One Child could be dangerous, she was sure of it. Yet, so far, bloodlines and the power of the Watcher held him in check.

Mrs. Jefferson turned her attention to Levi, lying so still. His languid pose spoke to her of illness.

“Oh, child!” she said, grabbing both his hands in hers. “I rubbed these stone-cold hands and arms till I thought to rub they skin off. Had to keep the blood circulating, had to. And ’bout had the worst time to keep the blood warm. Goodness to mercy, you scared me to death not half an hour ago!” She pictured again his shallow breathing, his burning skin and how his eyes had stared wide and empty when the hand-chain had been broken.

Now she saw that he perspired. His skin was almost cool.

Levi grinned at her. “Thanks for everything,” he said softly. “It’s good to be back home.”

“Well, then, let’s get yall ready,” she told them. “It’s the middle of the night. Comin’ dawn not too far from now, too.”

“The same dawn of our leaving?” Dorian wanted to know.

“Couldn’t be,” said Justice. “Has to be a day or two later.”

“Oh, Lawd,” Mrs. Jefferson said. “Been most of twenty-four hour—dawn of yestiddy. Yall recall how you did come out here before even the sun was ’bout up. And that day. And the night come down and rain clouds gatherin’. I said to mysel’ to get on down here, see if yall was still all right. I wasn’t worryin’ mysel’, exactly, but I keep getting this feeling that I ought to get down here. So I comes down in the full dark of nine o’clock at night. Shouldn’t be dark by then. Know it shouldn’t. But they be rain clouds. Rain not come down yet. But it’s thunderin’ and thinkin’ on it. And I hurry on down. Not mindin’ for thunder or lightnin’, nothing. Just had to make it down here and fast. And rightful I did, too. Mercy. Found Number One”—pointing at Thomas—“clutched up as tight to that water as he could get himsel’. On his knees, and I ain’t lyin’. On his knees! Like he was to hide behind the air if that was possible. And the other one, Number Two”—pointing at Levi—“right over there, his eyes wide open and starin’ on the dark. And scare me so. I lifted them boys single-handed, tremblin’ even in my throat, too. And laid ’em out right back here under this tree again. Done broke the chain of hands, yes they did. And I join the chain back. Didn’t know if and when you might be tryin’ to get home. Knew you couldn’t get home without the hands be joined. And scare me so again, when hours and hours do pass. I thought yall never was coming home. So I’m ‘bout to leave here for some blankets to cover yall. And started off, too. I like to died, wonderin’ how’m I to explain four empty-headed bodies sittin’ holdin’ hands in the dark under a shade tree. Glory. Glad I never had to ask somebody to come on down here and he’p me with them corpses!”

They stared at her, struck by the picture she had drawn of their deaths. Empty-headed bodies! But they were thankful for her. Justice tried to get up, and Mrs. Jefferson was there to help.

“We’ll start with you, baby-child, oh, Justice, since you always be the most anxious.”

She lifted Justice up on her legs, only to see them buckle with no strength. Mrs. Jefferson took hold of Justice before she could fall again. “Now,” she said. “Lean on me. We gone take one little-bitty step at a time, that’s all they is. Just one at a time.”

The Sensitive carried Justice’s weight until Justice could feel pinpricks of sensation that forced her up on her toes.

“Ooh! Oh, man, brother, let me sit down,” Justice cried.

“Chile, you keep on walkin’ or you won’t walk, no more. We got to get on outta here pretty soon now.”

“It feels like my backbone is turned to wood!” Justice moaned.

But it was not long before she and the Sensitive were helping Thomas and Dorian to their feet. The boys stood the pain of leg cramps quite well. An awful cramp curled Thomas’ toes under. Justice had to take his foot between her hands and massage it.

“Here, let me do that,” Mrs. Jefferson said, taking hold of Thomas.

He telepathed a truce to Mrs. Jefferson. Not in so many words, but in attitude. His attitude spoke volumes to her and it was not necessary for her to read his mind. A relaxation of her face muscles gave her agreement. She and Thomas would get along for the greater good, as long as it was possible. It upset Levi when the two of them argued or nearly came to blows.

All felt the urgency of what they must do for Levi. But they must be in condition themselves before they began it. All would need to pull together for Levi. And Thomas was still up too high, too agitated, to work out effectively.

Wish he’d get rid of some of that hatefulness he come back here with, Mrs. Jefferson thought. She was careful to veil her thinking from Thomas and the rest of them. How come he got to be so bitter all the time?
Who gone allow him near the Two Child with him bein so hateful?
The Sensitive never could keep her thoughts and the art of tracing separate.

Thomas had sensed her thinking and had caught her tracing.
You shut up!
he traced back.
Just shut up. And why do you have to give with that phoney Southern accent? We know you can talk just as regular as anybody. So why do you have to pretend?

Not pretendin’ nothin’,
Mrs. Jefferson traced.
Maybe I do it as a reminder to you of what has gone before
—
humm? Your origins, so to speak. Not to forget them. Past is important. You take the past on along with you to the future, don’t you, Number One?

I never take it anywhere,
Thomas traced.
I am taken under force. And whatever is in me when I go also goes through force.

Times when we all have to cooperate,
she traced.

But I have a right not to want to cooperate,
Thomas traced.
I have a right to say no, I won’t play.

Times when one for one is not enough,
traced the Sensitive serenely.
Times when two be one, when three be one is better. But best come the only way, come when all be for one.

Yeah, sure. The unit,
he traced.
I know I have no civil rights. I’m enslaved! But give me a cigarette and I’ll help you with Lee.
Smirking.

The Sensitive drew back.

I know you have them,
Thomas traced.
Give me one, I need a cigarette!

Give it to him,
came a tracing. It was Justice.
Give him what he needs to calm him down, Mrs. Jefferson.

He don’t need nothin, makin out how he’s so trapped.

But he is trapped,
Justice traced.
We are all trapped.

And that’s what I mean,
came the Sensitive, right back.
How he gone be more so trapped than anybody else? We all trapped with the gift. Be trapped to know what lies ahead. Cain’t none of us let the sensory go. Know how to see and to see
a
gain; and not a one of us be able to let loose of it.

So give me a cigarette,
traced with a less heavy humor. Letting them know his feelings always seemed to ease Thomas.
I better look after Lee for you now.

Right,
Justice traced.

None of them could see into the human structure the way Thomas could. And he could read his identical’s flesh and blood without fail. It was necessary that Thomas treat Levi after every Crossover.

“Give Thomas a cigarette,” Justice commanded.

Without another word, the Sensitive produced a pack from the folds of her skirt.

Thomas, smoking, seated himself cross-legged under the buckeye next to Levi, who had lain in the same place for almost twenty-four hours. Occasionally Lee rolled his head from side to side. Otherwise he lay still and outwardly showed little discomfort. Mrs. Jefferson had draped her coat over him.

“Wish I’d a thought first to bring some blankets. Lawd! How’d I come way down here without thinkin’ ’bout how cold yall had to be? And without no car, too. But I was scared Buford might wake up. He’d think somebody stealin’ his automobile. Never learned to drive it, but I
see
how it’s done.”