Messenger Read Free Page B

represented those things. He had never tried to go back, never wanted to. This was his home now, these his people. As he did every afternoon, he stood at the window and watched. His eyes were a pale, piercing blue.
    He watched with gratitude as the blind man moved through the lanes.
    He could see beyond a porch railing to the young woman who rocked an infant and mourned her husband.
Grieve gently,
he thought.
    He could see beyond the cornfield to where two young boys named Matty and Ramon were dangling lines into the river.
Good
fishing,
he thought.
    He could see beyond the marketplace to the cemetery where Gatherer’s ruined body had been buried.
Rest in peace,
he thought.
    Finally he looked toward the border of Village, to the place where the path entered Forest and became shrouded in shadows. Leader could see beyond the shadows but was not certain what he saw. It was blurred, but there was something in Forest that disturbed Leader’s consciousness and made him uneasy. He could not tell whether it was good or bad. Not yet.
    Â 
    Deep in the thick undergrowth near the clearing, at the edge of Leader’s puzzled awareness, a small green frog ate an insect it had caught with its sticky, fast-darting tongue. Squatting, it moved its protruding eyes around, trying to sense more insects to devour. Finding nothing, it hopped away. One back leg was oddly stiff but the frog barely noticed.

Three
    If we had a Gaming Machine,” Matty commented in a studied, offhand manner, “our evenings would never be boring.”
    â€œYou think our evenings are boring, Matty? I thought you enjoyed our reading together.”
    Seer laughed, and corrected himself. “Sorry. I meant your reading to me, Matty, and my listening. It’s my favorite time of day.”
    Matty shrugged. “No, I like reading to you, Seer. But I meant it’s not
exciting.
”
    â€œWell, we should choose a different book, perhaps. That last one—I’ve forgotten its name, Matty—was a little slow-going.
Moby Dick.
That was the one.”
    â€œIt was okay,” Matty conceded. “But it was too long.”
    â€œWell, ask at the library for something that would move along more quickly.”
    â€œDid I explain to you how a Gaming Machine works, Seer? It moves very quickly.”
    The blind man chuckled. He had heard it all before, many times. “Run out to the garden and get a head of lettuce, Matty, while I finish cleaning the fish. Then you can make a salad while the fish cooks.”
    â€œAnd
also,
” Matty continued in a loud voice as he headed for the garden just beyond the door, “it would be a nice end to a meal. Something sweet. Sort of a dessert. I did tell you, didn’t I, how the Gaming Machine gives you a candy when you win?”
    â€œSee if there’s a nice ripe tomato while you’re out there getting the lettuce. A
sweet
one,” Seer suggested in an amused voice.
    â€œYou might get a peppermint,” Matty went on, “or a gumdrop, or maybe something they call a sourball.” Beside the back step he reached into the vegetable garden and uprooted a small head of lettuce. As an afterthought, he pinched a cucumber loose from its vine nearby, and pulled some leaves from a clump of basil. Back in the kitchen, he put the salad things in the sink and halfheartedly began to wash them.
    â€œSourballs come in different colors, and each color is a flavor,” he announced, “but I suppose that wouldn’t interest you.”
    Matty sighed. He looked around. Even though he knew the blind man wouldn’t see his gesture, he pointed to the nearby wall, which was decorated by a colorful wall-hanging, a gift from the blind man’s talented daughter. Matty stood often before it, looking carefully at the intricate embroidered tapestry depicting a large thick forest separating two small villages far from each other. It was the geography of his own life, and that of the blind