osc.am2.redprophet-第22部分

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　　And　again　he　saw　the　white　light　gather；　inside　the　house；　following　the　boy　up　the　stairs。　For　Lolla…Wossiky　there　were　no　walls。　He　saw　the　boy　being　very　careful；　as　if　he　were　watching　for　an　enemy；　for　some　attack。　When　he　reached　the　bedroom　he　ducked　inside；　closed　his　door　quickly　behind　him。　Lolla…Wossiky　saw　him　so　clearly　that　he　thought　he　could　almost　hear　his　thoughts；　and　then；　because　he　thought　it；　and　because　this　was　near　the　end　of　his　dream；　almost　to　the　time　of　waking；　he　did　hear　the　boy's　thoughts；　or　at　least　felt　his　feelings。　It　was　his　sisters　he　was　afraid　of。　A　silly　quarrel；　begun　with　teasing；　but　malicious　now　　he　was　afraid　of　their　vengeance。
　　It　came　as　he　stripped　off　his　clothes　and　pulled　his　nightshirt　over　his　head。　Stinging！　Insects；　thought　the　boy。　Spiders；　scorpions；　tiny　snakes！　He　pulled　the　nightshirt　off；　slapped　himself；　cried　out　from　the　pain；　the　surprise；　the　fear。
　　But　Lolla…Wossiky　could　feel　the　land　well　enough　to　know　there　were　no　insects。　Not　on　his　body；　not　in　the　shirt。　Though　there　were　many　living　creatures　there。　Small　life；　little　animals。　Roaches；　hundreds　of　them　living　in　the　walls　and　floors。
　　Not　in　all　the　walls　and　floors；　though。　Just　in　Alvin　Junior's　room。　All　gathered　to　his　room。
　　Was　it　enmity？　Roaches　were　too　small　for　hate。　They　knew　only　three　feelings；　those　little　creatures。　Fear；　hunger；　and　the　third　sense；　the　land　sense。　The　trust　in　how　things　ought　to　be。　Did　the　boy　feed　them？　No。　They　came　to　him　for　the　other　thing。　Lolla…Wossiky　could　hardly　believe　it；　but　he　felt　it　in　the　roaches　and　couldn't　doubt。　The　boy　had　called　them　somehow。　The　boy　had　the　land　sense；　at　least　enough　to　call　these　small　creatures。
　　Call　them　why？　Who　wanted　roaches？　But　he　was　only　a　boy。　There　didn't　have　to　be　sense　in　it。　Just　the　discovery　that　the　little　life　would　e　when　you　called　it。　Red　boys　learned　this；　but　always　with　their　father　or　a　brother；　always　out　on　the　first　hunt。　Kneel　and　speak　silently　to　the　life　you　need　to　take；　and　ask　it　if　this　is　a　good　time；　and　if　it　is　willing　to　die　to　make　your　life　strong。　Is　it　your　time　to　die？　asks　the　Red　boy。　And　if　the　life　consents；　it　will　e。
　　This　is　what　the　boy　did。　Except　it　wasn't　so　simple。　He　didn't　call　the　roaches　to　die　for　his　need；　because　he　had　no　need。　No；　he　called　them　and　kept　them　safe。　He　protected　them。　It　was　like　a　treaty。　There　were　certain　places　the　roaches　didn't　go。　Into　Alvin's　bed。　Into　his　little　brother　Calvin's　cradle。　Into　Alvin's　clothing；　folded　on　the　stool。　And　in　return　Alvin　nevcr　killed　them。　They　were　safe　in　his　room。　It　was　a　sanctuary；　a　reserve。　A　very　silly　thing；　a　child　playing　with　things　he　didn't　understand。
　　But　the　marvel　of　it　was　　this　was　a　White　boy；　doing　something　beyond　even　a　Red　man's　reach。　When　did　the　Red　man　ever　say　to　the　bear；　e　and　live　with　me　and　I　will　keep　you　safe？　When　did　the　bear　ever　believe　such　a　thing？　No　wonder　the　light　was　centered　on　this　boy。　This　wasn't　the　foolish　knack　of　the　White　man　Hooch；　or　even　the　strong　living　hexes　of　the　woman　Eleanor。　This　wasn't　the　Red　man's　power　to　fit　himself　into　the　pattern　of　the　land。　No；　Alvin　didn't　fit　himself　into　anything。　The　land　fit　itself　to　him。　If　he　wanted　the　roaches　to　live　a　certain　way；　to　make　a　bargain；　then　that　was　how　the　land　ordered　itself。　In　this　small　place；　for　this　time；　with　these　tiny　lives；　Alvin　Junior　had　manded　and　the　land　obeyed。
　　Did　the　boy　understand　how　miraculous　this　was？
　　No；　no；　he　had　no　idea。　How　could　he　know？　What　White　man　could　even　understand　it？
　　And　now；　because　he　didn't　understand；　Alvin　Junior　was　destroying　the　delicate　thing　that　he　had　done。　The　insects　that　had　bitten　him　were　metal　pins　that　his　sisters　had　poked　into　his　nightshirt。　Now　he　could　hear　them　laughing　behind　their　wall。　Because　he　had　been　very　frightened；　now　he　was　very　angry。　Get　even；　get　back　at　them；　Lolla…Wossiky　could　feel　his　childish　rage。　He　only　did　one　little　thing　to　tease　them；　and　they　pay　him　back　by　scaring　him；　poking　him　a　hundred　times　and　making　him　bleed。　Get　even；　give　them　such　a　scare　Alvin　Junior　sat　on　the　edge　of　the　bed；　angrily　taking　the　pins　out　of　his　nightshirt；　saving　them　　White　men　were　so　careful　with　all　their　useless　metal　tools；　even　such　tiny　ones　as　those。　As　he　sat　there　he　saw　the　roaches　scurrying　along　the　walls；　running　in　and　out　of　cracks　in　the　floor；　and　he　saw　his　vengeance。
　　Lolla…Wossiky　felt　him　making　the　plan　in　his　mind。　Then　Alvin　knelt　on　the　floor　and　explained　it　softly　to　the　roaches。　Because　he　was　a　child；　and　a　White　boy　with　no　one　to　teach　him；　Alvin　thought　he　had　to　say　the　words　aloud；　that　the　roaches　somehow　understood　his　language。　But　no　　it　was　the　order　of　things；　the　way　he　arranged　the　world　in　his　mind。
　　And　in　his　mind　he　lied　to　them。　Hunger；　he　told　them。　And　in　the　other　room；　food。　He　showed　them　food　if　they　went　under　the　wall　into　the　sisters'　room　and　climbed　on　the　beds　and　the　bodies　there。　Food　if　they　hurried；　food　for　all　of　them。　It　was　a　lie；　and　Lolla…Wossiky　wanted　to　shout　at　him　not　to　do　this。
　　If　a　Red　man　knelt　and　called　to　prey　that　he　didn't　need；　the　prey　would　know　his　lie　and　wouldn't　e。　The　lie　itself　would　cut　the　Red　man　from　the　land；　make　him　walk　alone　awhile。　But　this　White　boy　could　lie　with　such　force　and　strength　that　the　tiny　minds　of　the　roaches　believed　him。　They　scurried；　a　hundred；　a　thousand　of　them　under　the　walls；　into　the　other　room。
　　Alvin　Junior　heard　something；　and　he　was　delighted。　But　Lolla…Wossiky　was　angry。　He　opened　his　eye；　so　he　didn't　have　to　see　Alvin　Junior's　glee　at　his　revenge。　Instead　now　he　heard　the　sisters　screaming　as　the　roaches　climbed　all　over　them。　And　then　the　parents　and　brothers　rushing　into　their　room。　And　the　stomping。　The　stomping；　the　smashing；　the　murders　of　the　roaches。　Lolla…Wossiky　closed　his　eye　and　felt　the　deaths；　each　one　a　pinprick。　It　had　been　so　long　with　the　black　noise　masking　all　the　deaths　behind　one　vast　memory　of　murder　that　Lolla…Wossiky　had　forgotten　what　the　small　pains　felt　like。
　　Like　the　death　of　bees。
　　Roaches；　useless　animals；　eating　up　garbage；　making　filthy　rustling　noises　in　their　dens；　loathsome　when　they　crawled　on　the　skin；　but　part　of　the　land；　part　of　the　life；　part　of　the　green　silence；　and　their　death　was　an　evil　noise；　their　useless　murder　because　they　believed　in　a　lie。
　　This　is　why　I　came；　Lolla…Wossiky　realized。　The　land　brought　me　here；　knowing　that　this　boy　had　such　power；　knowing　that　there　was　no　one　to　teach　him　how　to　use　it；　no　one　to　teach　him　to　wait　to　feel　the　need　of　the　land　before　changing　it。　No　one　to　teach　him　how　to　be　Red　instead　of　White。
　　I　didn't　e　for　my　own　dream　beast；　but　to　be　the　dream　beast　for　this　boy。
　　The　noise　settled。　The　sisters；　the　brothers；　the　parents　went　back　to　sleep。　Lolla…Wossiky　pressed　his　fingers　into　the　cracks　between　the　logs；　climbed　carefully；　his　eye　closed　so　that　the　land　would　guide　him　instead　of　trusting　in　himself。　The　boy's　shutters　were　open；　and　Lolla…Wossiky　thrust　his　elbows　over　the　sill　and　hung　there；　looking　in。
　　First　with　his　eye　open。　He　saw　a　bed；　a　stool　with　clothes　neatly　folded；　and　at　the　foot　of　the　bed；　a　cradle。　The　window　opened　onto　the　space　between　the　bed　and　the　cradle。　In　the　bed；　a　shape；　boy…sized；　unidentifiable。
　　Lolla…Wossiky　closed　his　eye　again。　Alvin　lay　in　the　bed。　Lolla…Wossiky　felt　the　heat　of　the　boy's　excitement　like　a　fever。　He　had　been　so　afraid　of　being　caught；　so　exhilarated　at　his　victory；　and　now　lay　trembling；　trying　to　breathe　calmly；　trying　to　stifle　laughter。
　　His　eye　open　again；　Lolla…Wossiky　scrambled　up　onto　the　sill　and　swung　onto　the　floor。　He　expected　Alvin　to　notice　him；　to　cry　out；　but　the　shape　of　the　boy　lay　still　in　the　bed；　there　was　no　sound。
　　The　boy　couldn't　see　him　when　his　eye　was　open；　any　more　than　he　could　see　the　boy。　This　was　the　end　of　the　dream；　after　all；　and　Lolla…Wossiky　was　dream　beast　for　the　boy。　It　was　Lolla…Wossiky's　duty　to　give　visions　to　the　boy；　not　to　be　seen　as　himself；　a　whisky…Red　with　one　eye　missing。
　　What