Elephant Song

FOUR

Little Will held herself motionless in the dark. She knew that all she had to do was to open her eyes, and the blackness would go away. But then would come the hurt.

She smelled wood smoke, heard a fire's quiet crackle, then noticed that someone was holding her left hand. The hand holding hers was large, warm, and gentle. She cautiously rose from the blackness, just a little, ready to recoil if the pain returned. Her head ached, but that searing, shattering bolt of agony that had always waited for her to open her eyes appeared to be gone. She let more of that cotton of blackness drop from her and opened her eyes to tiny slits.

Above her were poles and thatch. They seemed to move in the flickering yellow light. She turned her head slightly to the left. A shadow hovered over her; a shadow and half a face. The face was familiar. Wispy gray hair, long face. She opened her eyes the rest of the way and tried to call out to the man with her thoughts.

The man's eyes were closed, his face relaxed. Little Will tried to project her thought into the man's mind as Nhissia had trained her to do. She frowned as the thought refused to form. She tried harder, and then gasped as the pain returned. She gripped the man's hand as she covered herself with the blackness.

In her dream she looked for another face; another man. The one who had deserted her. So long ago. Long before she could speak.

In the brightly lit hotel room, she sat on the big man's knee, his arms around her resting on the edge of the table, his large hands holding four cards. She looked into his sad face, then turned to see the man on the other side of the table. He was dark and was also holding four cards. His face was also sad. "Your draw, Bullhook."

The large man reached forward, picked up a card from a stack of cards, looked at it, then tossed it upon the table.

The dark man frowned as he drew a card. The dark man put the new card into his hand and hesitated.

"Throw anything you want, Waco. Anything at all."

The dark man raised his eyebrows without looking away from his cards. "You sound awfully smug for a man with bull plop for brains."

"Sticks and stones, Waco. C'mon."

The dark man touched first one card, a second, then pulled out and discarded a third. "Chew on that, Bullhook."

The big man put down his cards next to the dark one's discard. "Ain't they pretty? How many did I catch you with?"

The dark one tossed his cards on the table. "I'm over. That's game."

The big man wrapped his arms around her and jiggled her on his knee. "How about that, Little Will? Your old man just whipped the drawers off that hose merchant over there."

She giggled.

The dark one gathered up the cards. "Another game?"

The big man shook his head. "I can't. I have to go soon."

"Do you think you'll have much trouble rounding up the bulls?"

The big man shrugged. "Can't tell, yet. Eco-Watch doesn't want to let anything off of Earth—officially."

The dark one leaned back itThis chair. "Unofficially?"

"Money talks. I'm supposed to come up with around two hundred bulls. I'll probably be away for two, three months." He mussed up her hair. "I sure hate to go right after you and me found each other." He kissed her cheek, then looked back at the dark one. "Waco, how come she doesn't talk? I thought kids this age could say at least a few words."

"It takes some kids longer than others."

The big man shook his head. "I wonder if it's that genetic thing. From the war. There was a problem."

"Bullhook, it takes some kids longer than others. Don't go looking for trouble." The dark one nodded his head toward the hotel room's outside glass wall. "What were you doing out in the cold cruel for the past two years?"

"Wandered around. I saw a couple of planets; Mendik and Ourylim. Handled some animals there." He pushed a lock of black hair from the little girl's eyes, then he looked back at the dark one. "I went back to the foster camp—except it's not a foster camp anymore. You remember the place I told you about?"

The dark one nodded. "I remember."

"Old Doctor Mentz is dead. The camp is just a regular school. Atabi is the school district superintendent. I talked to him." The big man shook his head. "He's a lot different than I remembered."

"Did you ever find what you were looking for, Bullhook?"

The big man studied her, and then hugged her again. "I think so." He looked back at the dark one. "How come you came back to the show, Waco? Ssendiss sounded like snake heaven."

The dark one laughed, then sipped at a cup of herb tea. "Bullhook, I was a flop as a teacher. My course on Earth snakes bored my students stiff. The trouble with telepaths is that they have some rather startling ways to let you know that they're bored. I can tell you that the novelty of juvenile telepathic pranksters wears off quickly."

The big man bounced her on his knee. "How did you get your act together?"

"The ones I have with me are adults. They know better than to mess with someone's mind. In between classes I guess I prattled to them about the circus. The circus they found interesting. When Mr. John put out the call for the star show, I decided to see what I could put together. What I have with me, Bullhook, is almost the entire faculty of the Surissa—the school where I was teaching."

"When do I get to meet them?"

The dark one shrugged. "They should be up soon. Ssendissians sleep about fifty percent of the time. Are you sure you can't stick around a little longer?"

The big man shook his head. "Me and my crew have to be at Eastern Regional in half an hour to catch the Burma shuttle." He lifted her and placed her on the floor. The door to the hotel room opened, and she saw her mother standing in the doorway.

Kristina looked at the big man. "I see you two found each other. How've you been, Willy?"

Bullhook stood up. "Fine. You're looking good, Kris."

"No thanks to you."

The big man looked down. "I had that coming."

Kristina snorted out a laugh. "That and a lot more, you bastard. Two and a half years without a damned word."

The big man turned to the dark one. "I got to be going, Waco." He looked at Kristina, then averted his glance and walked around her, leaving the room.

The dark one drummed his fingertips on the table top, but remained silent. Kristina looked at him. "Waco, can you look after Wilhelmina for another hour or so? I have a few things to iron out about the delivery of my new cat."

The dark one shrugged. "No problem."

Kristina looked at the dark one for a moment. "Do you think I'm too rough on Willy?"

"It's none of my business."

Kristina nodded. "You're damned right." She turned and left, closing the door behind her.

Little Will sat on the room's carpet and she watched as the dark one got up to brew another cup of tea. Through the open bedroom door came a long, gray serpent. It halted in the doorway and studied her. She crawled toward the serpent. When she was within arm's length, she reached out a hand and touched its warm skin. She looked up at the triangular head weaving on that slender gray body.

"You are pretty."

The head of the serpent weaved down until it was at the same level as Little Will's head. The serpent's eyes were violet; the pupils cat-like. "To me do you speak?"

She stroked the serpent again. "You are pretty. So very pretty."

The serpent reared up, examined the little girl, then again brought down its head. "Thank you. I think you are pretty, too."

She giggled and hid her face in her hands. "Oh, I'm not pretty. Kristina says I am a horror."

The serpent looked at the dark one. The dark one was absorbed in brewing his tea. The serpent looked back at the little girl. "Who is Kristina?" "She's my mommy."

The serpent's head rocked up and down. "She is your mother." The serpent hissed. "Who is your father?"

She held her hands from her cheeks. "I think it is the man who just left. He looks very sad to me." "I am not surprised."

Little Will frowned. "I do not understand."

The serpent reared up again. "I meant nothing." The serpent's head turned toward the dark one. The dark one turned toward the serpent, then picked up his fresh cup of tea. He nodded at the serpent, then left the room. The serpent turned back to face the little girl. "What is your name?"

"Mommy calls me Wilhelmina. Everyone else calls me Little Will."

The serpent's head bobbed up and down. "I am called Hassih, Little Will. Would you like to be friends?"

Little Will clapped her hands. "Oh yes! Oh yes!"

The serpent's head bobbed again. "Then we shall be friends, Little Will. Watch as I tie myself into a knot."

Little Will clapped her hands and opened her mouth to a silent laugh.

... and the dream faded as the smell of smoke returned.

Little Will did not see; she did not hear. But she felt the man's presence next to her. And there was another. They talked.

"I got the gang working on beefing up the kraal. All the dead stock is out of Number Three. Christ, what a mess." Silence. "Pony, some of the troupers're talking like we ought to cut up and preserve the meat."

A longer silence. "Put 'em in the trench, Packy. We've found enough edible stuff to get by. We're not eating our damned animals!" Silence. "Hell, Packy, we've been covered in crap before, but this..."

More silence.

"I don't have no answers, Pony. Except we do like always: don't think about it—"

"—And just move on to the next stand, Packy? Just where is that next stand? And when in blood-eyed damnation is the city going to kick us off this lot?!"

Little Will opened her eyes to narrow slits. It was night again. Packy Dern was still sitting on the platform to her left. Pony Red Miira's huge form stood between the two platforms. He was rubbing his eyes. He lowered his hand and jabbed Packy's shoulder. "Look, you. Keep your trap shut about this. I just need a little sleep. Haven't slept since..."

"This ain't my first May, Pony."

The boss animal man looked to his right, then to his left. In the light from a fire, Little Will could see that Pony's eyes were dark circled, his leather-brown face deeply lined. "There's an empty spot." He turned his head back toward Packy. "Fireball hasn't had any luck with the radios. Her knob twirlers can talk to the other cars, but no subspace commo. I just can't understand how Arnheim managed to sabotage every single stinking radio in the show."

"The guy had a head full of bedbugs. What's to explain? They got hold of Number Two yet?"

The boss animal man slowly shook his head. "They finally got a fix on Number Seven. Kuumic says that he's in the middle of some damned desert." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm for some sleep."

"Pony?"

"What?"

"What's the name of this planet? Just in case someone should ask?"

The boss animal man stared off into the darkness for a long time. "Funny. Back on the Baraboo when the route book man was running that damned fool name-the-planet contest, I had more important things on my mind. Never did find out what name won. A name seems a lot more important now." He looked down at the boss elephant man. "What did you pick?"

"Nowhere."

"That stinks."

"What did you pick?"

"Philadelphia." Pony Red shrugged and let his hands fall to his sides. "I thought it was funny."

"Go get some sleep."

As the boss animal man turned and stumbled off into the darkness, Packy looked down at Little Will. His long, sorrowful face frowned for an instant, then smiled. "I'll be—" He turned away and whispered loudly. "Mange! Mange! Come here."

Another shadow rushed up and stopped. "For crissakes, Packy, will you pipe down?"

"I whispered."

"Like a foghorn you whispered." The shadow nodded toward Little Will. "What is it?"

"She's awake. Her eyes are open."

Mange moved to the right, bent over, and placed a warm hand against Little Will's face. The hand quickly moved down her left arm and held her wrist. "Little Will?"

She opened her mouth and tried to speak. Pain; white, stunning pain. The shadows and yellows blended together, swam, and faded as she felt herself falling end-over-end into a universe where pain was not allowed.

It was a beautiful universe, All of it lights, laughter, and glitter. It was a straw house on a hard lot and a warm evening. It was the windjammers playing "The Governor's Waltz" while seventy-five bulls turned, hind-ended, and kootched in unison. It was thousands of cheering voices, and they all cheered for her. Covered in spangles, she sat astride Ming's neck in the spectacular. Her father would steal an instant and look up at her.

She would always sneak a peek during the Lion Lady's performance. Center ring, the spots all turned toward her mother and the cats, the crowd hushed, applauding, gasping, cheering. No matter where they played, however alien the planet or its people, this universe stayed the same. It was like the dog who buried a bone beneath the treasury wagon and then at the next stand, on another planet, went beneath the treasury wagon to dig it up again. Once she saw her father sneaking a peek at the Lion Lady's act, and from then on, they watched together.

On the City of Baraboo between planets, the universe was huge gray pets, Goofy Joe gossiping, Mootch Movill telling funny stories; clowns, canvasmen, tackspitters, bullhands, hostlers, and a white-bearded giant that everyone called "Mr. John."

But the universe had some special moments. Little Will watched porter Pickle Nose Porse set up the table, champagne and glasses in the exercise run next to the main carrousel in shuttle Number Three. Bullhook Willy was sitting on a haybale with his arm around Kristina, and both of them were talking to Pony Red. She walked through the crowd of handlers, medics, and animal act performers until she stood next to Bullhook. "Daddy, is it all right if I go see the bulls?"

Bullhook looked down at her. "Just for a little while. You don't want to miss the line-crossing ceremony."

"I won't." She stood on her toes and kissed him, then turned and kissed Kristina. "I'll be right back, Mommy."

The Lion Lady kissed Little Will. "All right, but don't get your clothes dirty. I want you pretty for the ceremony."

"Yes, Mommy." She turned and ran through the crowd. She waved as she saw Waco and his twenty Ssendissians. When she reached the port to the main carrousel, she stepped in and walked to the center of the great rotatable tube. Within the large tube were more tubes, each one independantly rotatable, and each one containing ten or more elephants. She climbed the ladder and catwalk and entered one of the tubes. Inside the smells of elephant and hay were strong. In their separate stalls, the bulls contentedly munched their rations. Seated on a bucket in front of Robber's stall was Packy Dern. "Hi, Packy!"

The bullhand jumped, turned around, then shook his head. "You shouldn't ought to sneak up on a man that way, Little Will. Give a fellow time to get used to you yelling at his eardrums from the inside."

Little Will held her hands behind her. "I'm sorry."

Packy waved a hand. "It's all right." He resumed his seat on the bucket. "Are you gonna try and talk to Reg again?"

She nodded. "Some day I bet I can talk to the bulls. I get a feeling from Reg. She's really trying to say something."

Packy shrugged and looked up at Robber. "I been talking to Robber a lot of years, now. I think she understands."

"How come you aren't with everybody else?"

He looked at the little girl. "Big moment coming up, Little Will. We're going to be the very first starshow to cross the quadrant line. Important occasion." He nodded, then looked back at Robber. "At a time like this, I can't think of anyone I'd rather be with."

"I'm going to see Reg."

Packy nodded. "Good luck."

Little Will walked around the bucket and headed toward the back of the tube. When she got to Reg's stall, she looked up at the great pachyderm. "Reg? Reg? Do you hear me, Reg?"

The bull turned her head, then reached out her trunk and caressed Little Will. The trunk moved back to its hay.

"Oh, please, Reg! Say something to me. Please."

The bull continued eating.

Little Will moved in next to the bull, reached up, and stroked the animal's cheek. "Nhissia says that touching helps mind-talk with people. Can you hear me now, Reg?"

The bull stopped eating. She stood motionless, then Little Will closed her eyes and felt a flood of warmth; an ocean of love. It covered her. "Oh, Reg! Oh, Reg! You talked to me! I love you, Reg. And you love me." Little Will felt a tremble beneath her feet. She opened her eyes and looked toward Packy.

The bullhand was standing, looking toward the entrance to the tube. "What in the hell was that?"

The deck pulled out from beneath Little Will's feet, and she saw Packy being knocked to his knees just before her head struck the deck. "Daddy! Daddy! Mommy! Oh, it hurts!" She looked up, her vision blurred with tears, and saw Reg's enormous foot swinging toward her.

And the universe is all laughter, bright colors, and cotton candy. And it's mud, broken bones, fights with rubes, pain, endless hard work, frustration, poisoned animals, crooked governments. It's wind-blown ice shredding the main top on a dark night; it's maimed, crippled, and dead friends; it's the Lion Lady putting a gun to her head an instant after killing her cats; it's Bullhook Willy broken and bleeding on the grass of an unknown planet; it's a little girl, hurt, alone, and afraid.

The universe is what it's always been: one long uninterrupted dee-light.

"Little Will? Little Will? It's me, Packy."

She opened her eyes. The light said that it was morning. There were no feelings. If you don't feel you don't hurt. The little girl's stare remained fixed for a moment upon the thatched roof above. She turned her head to her left and saw Packy Dern sitting on the platform next to her own. Little Will closed her eyes.

"Little Will. Now that Bullhook's gone, I'm going to take care of you." Packy's voice broke. "Bullhook... he asked me to take care of you. Is that all right?"

A stone does not love; a stone does not suffer loss; a stone does not hurt. Lucky stone.

Packy took her hand in both of his. "We'll be okay together, Little Will. You'll see." He reached to his side and placed something in Little Will's hand. She opened her eyes as she lifted the object. It was her father's golden-tipped bullhook.

No one loves a stone; no one cares if a stone suffers; no one hurts for the sake of a stone. Poor stone.

Little Will clutched the bullhook to her breast and cried.

Packy put his arms beneath her knees and shoulders, lifted her, and held her close. "We'll be okay together. You'll see."