[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

ears while banging iron skillets together. Kind of insistent. He rubbed
a hand across his chin.  I spent years ignoring it. It was like ignoring a
migraine. Or a door-to-door salesman.
 The whole household seems to be& gifted, Rosalind said
carefully.
 Something in the water? Joe said and grinned.
It eased Rosalind s fear. She smiled at him in return.  Come on, it
does seem a little unusual.
 Not really. We attract each other. Everyone has some ability. Some
people are closer to the surface with it. And there is the queer thing.
Joe signaled to the waitress, who was passing by with a coffee pot.
Rosalind waited until she d left again before leaning on the table
and almost whispering.  What queer thing?
Joe sighed.  You know any Native American history?
 Only what I learned in school, the basics.
 Okay. You ve heard of the berdache? Rotten term that the French
used, but it stuck.
 Yes. Men who dressed and lived as women.
 I like the term two-spirited. Transwomen, we d say now. There
were women who dressed and lived as men, as well, in many tribes.
Most, I think. Anyway, the nations usually respected their two-spirited
people. They were often shamans, healers. Some handled the wealth
of the tribe, were considered especially lucky. They had a hard road
to walk, so they had powers in compensation. Usually a vision at
adolescence signaled the beginning of a path such as that. You with
me? Joe paused and looked at her.
 I think so.
 Some of these people were what we d call gay. Some weren t.
But they all had some measure of power from the unique path they
followed.
" 244 "
Of Drag Kings & the Wheel of Fate
 So there s a propensity toward being& gifted, Rosalind said
slowly.
 Yeah. It seems to show up more readily. And people with gifts are
always drawn to Rhea s house. It s like a big magnet. Joe set his cup
down with a spin.
 So it s perfectly normal if I start hearing things, Rosalind said.
She d meant it to come out light, funny, but it sounded serious to her
ears.
 I d expect you to start seeing things.
Rosalind raised her eyebrow.
Joe reached across the table and took her hand.  Don t sweat it.
It usually shows up pretty early in life. Harder then to tell if you have
a reputable source or the 7-11 clerks of the Great Beyond. But if you
do start hearing things, you can always tell them to go to hell. Ouch,
poor word choice. Go to Cleveland. They ll leave you alone. Just be as
stubborn as they are.
 Stubborn. Rosalind s voice layered a wealth of meaning into
the word.
Joe appeared to catch the layers. He sighed and leaned back in the
chair.  Been about an hour. Think it s safe to go back?
 If the immovable object and the irresistible force haven t
slaughtered each other by now, they probably won t.
Joe threw a handful of bills on the table.  So, which is yours?
 Irresistible force, Rosalind said, with a smile that would
scandalize a nun.
 Shouldn t have asked. I m getting too old to keep hearing about
kids sex lives.
 I m hardly a kid.
 You re younger now than the day I met you, Ros. And your
handsome boy is older. You re good for each other.
They walked in companionable silence back down Mariner. Joe
paused on the steps, and Rosalind saw that his hand trembled on the
knob. She reached out, set her hand over his, and squeezed. He smiled
his gratitude, and they opened the door together.
It was silent in the house. Rosalind had expected some noise,
conversation, shouting perhaps. But the hallway was as still as a
painting, the light from the kitchen indicating that it was still inhabited.
" 245 "
SUSAN SMITH
Wordlessly, Joe and Rosalind peered around the corner and looked into
the room.
Taryn knelt on the floor, holding out her right hand. Rhea sat in
front of Taryn, her head bent over the hand, her back to the doorway.
Rosalind had the oddest impression that Rhea was reading her palm. It
took her a moment to recognize what Rhea was doing. There was blood
down Taryn s wrist, a brown stain that extended to her elbow. Rhea had
a pair of tweezers in hand and was plucking bits of glass from the gory
mass of flesh that had been Taryn s hand.
Taryn gave no indication that she felt any pain as Rhea worked
free a sliver of glass two inches long. Rhea worked with an intensity,
her hair covering Taryn s arm when she looked into the wound. Taryn
had a look on her face that Rosalind would have sworn was pride. Her
eyes never strayed from Rhea while the fragment was pulled out of her
hand, sending forth a fresh jet of blood. Rhea dropped it into a bowl,
next to her knee.
It was too much for Rosalind to watch in silence.  Taryn, she
said, stepping into the room.
Taryn raised a smile to her of reflected pleasure from Rhea s
ministrations.  Hey. Didn t hear you guys come in.
 Honey, you re bleeding. What happened? Rosalind asked,
kneeling down at Taryn s side.
Rhea snorted, and went back to searching the wound.
 I m okay, Taryn said easily.
 But what happened? Rosalind asked, watching Rhea pull forth
more shrapnel with practiced ease. A shiver went through Rosalind at
the sight. Something about her, and blood, and the binding of wounds.
It spoke to something ancient in her. She should be sewing up the rents
in that flesh. It was her responsibility.
 I punched a window, Taryn said sheepishly.
Rosalind took a shard of glass from the floor. It was shaped like
an arrowhead, the edges trimmed with unwitting precision by the force
of Taryn s blow. There was a spot of her blood left on it, a jewel on the
transparent cutting surface. Rosalind imagined that it still felt warm
from the contact with Taryn s flesh.
Whatever had passed between Rhea and Taryn, whatever storm [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]