GRAYMOUSE

Pappa says I ask too many questions. When I was little, he would say it with a smile and maybe a quick whirl in the air. (Oh, I remember being little, in a house that was warm and bright and had a refrigerator and television. And music, I remember *music.*) Now he says it tiredly, or angrily, or with a fist. So, I don't ask out loud any more. Well, not often, anyway; mostly just in my head.

The problem with that is, there aren't any answers in my head, and since Old Dad died, I don't have anybody else to get them from. And if I don't have the answers, the questions tumble and bump through my thoughts, keeping me awake at night and getting me in trouble the next day. So I find them as best I can by listening and watching, and sometimes reading things the Elders don't know I can.

That's why, when the Brothers brought in the two outlanders, I didn't look up from the wash I was doing with my mother and the other women. That would have gotten me sent to the house. Like them I pretended to ignore the men bustling and bristling around the compound, arguing with each other in hushed words. But I watched from the corner of my eyes, letting my hair fall so that they wouldn't see I did, and I strained to make sense of their words. After a bit, most of them left, heading for the Church, probably to find the Elders, but left Brothers Watts and Michaels to guard the outlanders. With just the two of them out there talking, loud as they got, it was easy to hear.

"They're abominations!" Brother Watts insisted, keeping his rifle pointed at them, though it looked to me like neither of them were awake, let alone in shape to fuss.

"They're policemen, partners." Brother Michaels argued. He's the youngest of the Brothers, nobody pays him much mind, and it doesn't help that he's not a muscled man like Brother Watts. "You served time in the army; you know your buddies can be closer to you than your family when you're fighting for your life."

"You saw what he did!"

"I saw one man save another's life by diving into a fire and carrying him out. That doesn't make them abominations." Brother Michaels took advantage of his height, skinny though it is, to stare down at Brother Watts, hoping, I think, to make the short man mad at him, and not the two outlanders. He gentled his voice some, though, and I'm not sure I heard right when he said, "They stood side by side with us, Brother, to fight the fire, even though this is not their mountain, their home. Other outlanders shunned us; these shared their water and food."

For a moment I think the good brother lost some of his anger, though for the life of me I'll never understand why he was mad in the first place. Then one of the two outlanders moaned, saying, "Jim?" Michaels bent over him, and took a handful of hair that was almost as curly and pretty as a woman's, and lifted up the head of the one who spoke.

"Look at this!" Brother Watts used the barrel of his gun to point to something on the stranger's ear. "And they said they were from that hippy commune on Slater's Ridge. It's nothing but a breeding place of sin and evil!"

"They were visiting his mother, who’s staying there with a dying friend. And he's a scholar; they do all kinds of things that don't mean to them what it means to us." The patience was leaking from Brother Michaels, I could tell, but he tried to stay reasonable.

The outlander with the long hair batted feebly at the hand holding it, and Brother Watts dropped him hard. He landed sorta on top of his friend, lifted his head to look at him blurriedly, and then made a fist in the shirt the man was wearing, holding onto him tight. Seeing him do it, Brother Watts hissed, "Abomination!" and hit the young man in the back of the skull with the butt of the rifle. He didn't even cry out; he just slumped, out cold and bleeding on the other stranger.

Brother Michaels gave Watts a look that could have dried up a milk cow, then deliberately turned his back on him. For a second I thought Brother Watts was going to hit him, for treating him like a bad child, but the punishment for striking a Brother is three days in God's Mercy. One is enough to convince most not to sin, so Brother Watts did the only thing he could do. "The Elders will decide God's will in this matter," he intoned, and turned his back. Anyone coming up now would assume that Brother Michaels was in the wrong, simply because he was the younger. Both knew that, but he let Brother Watts get away with it, out of respect, maybe.

Or maybe not. Men don't make much sense to me on the best of days, and this one was turning out to be one of the most confusing I'd seen in a while.

Before either of them could make a move toward peace, the other brothers trooped back, all excited and half-arguing still. Sure enough, the Elders were going to decide if the outlanders were abominations, though they didn't seem to be in much of a hurry to do it. Both were grabbed and dragged to God's Mercy, on the Elder's orders. The courtyard emptied out fast and after all the commotion, the sudden quiet seemed awful weird.

Picking up the skirt I had been scrubbing, I dunked it into the trough, catching Mamma's eyes as I did, without meaning to. There were worry lines pinched around them, and her mouth was a flat line as she stared at me. She was afraid I was going to start asking, I knew, but I kept my own mouth hard and kept on rinsing the skirt. Hers softened a bit, and when I was done, she told me to take the basket of clean, dry rags to the Woman's House. That put the nose of a few of the others out of joint. After all, it’s the one place in the compound where a body doesn't have to be afraid of what a man would overhear or see, since they won't come close to an unclean woman.

I don't know if she was being nice to me for keeping quiet or if it were one of the hidden kindnesses she gave me sometimes. Once I heard her tell the other women that I would loose what freedom I had soon enough, and I should enjoy what I had whiIe I could. I blessed her for that in my heart; I'd seen what happened to other girls when they got married. Thank God, I'm small for my age, and Pappa seems to keep forgetting just how old I am.

So I scurried off, trying to stay away from the edges of everyone's attention, like the gray mouse my Mamma says I am. Of all the questions that were bouncing around, the two that troubled me most were how could a man be an abomination, and why had the brothers brought outlanders to the community?

Oh, I knew what an abomination was, of course; it was one of the First Elder's favorite preachings. Babies born imperfect, girls with no modesty or shame, women who had babies when they had no husband - there were others, but those are the ones he harped on most. An abomination had no soul for the Lord to redeem, and were vessels of evil to be destroyed whenever possible. Hunting out and putting down abominations was one of the most important things the Brothers did. But they didn't go outside the community to do it; the Elders believe that being an outside was near the same as being dead, anyway.

When strangers came to our part of the mountain, they were turned away by Brothers who guarded the trails and road. If they wouldn't be turned away, or were found already on the Community's land, the Brothers defended us. It didn't happen often; there were only three un-named graves in the churchyard.

I'd left the basket at the Women's House; didn't even take time to talk to Milla, who was suffering the curse for the first time, though she was smack dab between being scared pukey and being happy about it and could have used a listening ear. Instead I went and snuck into the old root cellar. See, back a long time ago, God's Mercy had been a smokehouse, and the root cellar had been used to store the cured meats. It still had a meaty, tasty smell. Since it stood by itself, on the edge of the main compound, the Elders had turned it to a place to teach sinners God's Mercy, but the cellar part was abandoned and forgotten by most.

Not me, though. I know all the hidey-holes and listening places in the compound and all the woods around. None of the buildings and not much of the land have any secrets from me. Nor do many of the people, either, truth be known. Much as I like all the knowing, and the cozy feeling from being hidden, I am not a sneak! If people would just tell me things, I wouldn't have to try to find out on my own.

Finding out how a man could be an abomination would have to be done on my own, too. Something about the way the men were all angry and scared told me that asking anybody, even careful as I can be, would get it all dumped on me. The punishment I get for sneaking is bad enough; I don't need more for 'not knowing my place,' which, near as I can figure, is what all men say when they want to hit on a woman.

Anyway, there's a place in the old root cellar where you can push up on the planks in the roof and see into the smokehouse. By the time I got there, both of the strangers were in cages, and the bigger of the two was beginning to mumble himself awake. He was a good-sized man, and you could have mistaken him for a Brother, easy, cause he had that kind of hard, scary strength in his body and face. His hair was short and dark brown, and when he tried to open his eyes to look around, I could see they were a real pretty blue. I couldn't be sure, but it looked like there was a right raw looking burn running down the back part of his left leg.

It musta hurt, but he didn't make a sound. He just felt around the cage, and opened his eyes once in a while to look at what was there, which wasn't much of anything. The cages were boxes about 4 foot by 4 foot, but only 3 feet high with solid hard wood frames and sitting on sawhorses so they're about four feet off'n the ground. The sides were reinforced with thick plywood, but both ends were open and covered outside with chicken wire, and lined inside with barbwire. No padding, no cool moving air in the summer, or heat in the winter. If that wasn't bad enough, there were canvas tarps that could be dropped over them, which took away what little light the building had.

You'd think the boxes by themselves would be punishment enough, even for taking the Lord's name in vain. They were just where the sinners were kept so the body could be punished to save the soul. God's Mercy, you know. I carefully looked away from the other things in the room and watched the other outlander for a while.

All his long hair was matted and dirty with blood, ash and soot, but there were strands here and there that showed a brown lots more interesting with reds and blondes than mine. He was smaller than his friend, bout middle sized, I guess, and all curled up on himself like he was cold.

He'd called the big man Jim, and Mr. Jim started calling a name, too, so I guessed the scholar must be Mr. Sandburg. The sound of his name, especially when Mr. Jim changed it to his given instead of his sire's, got to him, but it seemed all he could do was twitch when he heard it. I swear, I *swear* Mr. Jim heard him twitch, cause he'd hush up and listen real hard, move around in his box some, then say "Chief" again, until he was facing the same wall that Mr. Sandburg lay on the other side of in his box.

And I think he knew that, too. I don't care how crazy it sounds. He put his hands on the wall, pressed his face between them, and started talking nice to his friend, asking him to wake up. Mr. Sandburg tried, tried hard. Even got himself turned so that he faced Mr. Jim's wall, too. But he couldn't wake up, and he was bleeding and making hurting noises that pained me to hear.

They drove his friend crazy. He started shouting, yelling to get out, to get help for Mr. Sandburg, at the top of his lungs. Hardly the first time the Brothers standing on guard had heard that kind of racket; they didn't even stop talking about the damage the forest fire had done to the mountain. Mr. Jim wasn't stupid; when nothing happened he shut up, getting a look on his face that half scared me out of my shoes. Nobody should have to live all filled with anger like that and nothing but patience to hold it.

He started to move slow and careful again, feeling over the cage, lifting and pushing at the cracks and seams, looking for a weak spot. They're made to hold people fearing Hell itself, though, and he found nothing. Breathing loud, he laid back down as best he could in that cramped place, and settled down to wait.

I think he dozed a bit. I mean, he was still for so long I started thinking I'd better get back to chores before Mamma came looking for me. Then Mr. Sandburg got some strength back and started talking, hardly making sense at first, but it was plain if you listened long enough that he was begging his friend not to leave him in the fire.

Well, I thought I'd seen Mr. Jim crazy before, but that was nothing like what happened next. He started slamming on the wall between him and his friend, trying to knock it down. Like he thought he was Samson or something, he kicked and beat at it, roaring and snarling. The walls were built strong and solid, though, and they held. But I couldn't stand it any more, couldn't stand hearing Mr. Sandburg plead and Mr. Jim fight. So, I ran away, still not knowing how any man like those men could be abominations.

*****

With all my chores and the extras Mamma gave me for being gone so long that Pappa missed me, you'd think a body would be tired enough to sleep standing. Instead I laid in my attic bed, counting the cracks in the rafters, and listening to the creak of Mamma's rocker below. Pappa had gone to meeting to hear the Brothers argue to the Elders about the outlanders. Though Pappa hadn't asked, Mamma cooked a sweet dessert when it wasn't a Sunday or birthday, and had smiled her special smile at Pappa anytime he looked at her.

When it seemed like Pappa was feeling sweet himself, I got myself out of their way, cleaning the dishes without being told. Trying harder than I ever had to be that gray mouse skulking along the edge of the wall, I listened as he told her about the outlanders helping fight the fire and getting cut off from the others of their kind. The Brothers had fought about what to do about them coming on the land with them. But since they were trying to stop the fire, and as long as the strangers left without knowing where they'd been, the Brothers decided to leave them be.

That lasted until Mr. Sandburg slipped and tumbled down a slope down into the fire they had all finally gotten boxed in. Mr. Ellison (I heard Pappa telling Mamma that was Mr. Jim's sire's name) didn't so much as blink, but went right in after his friend and carried him out in his arms like a child, wrapped in his own jacket. Brother Watts had taken one look and whipped his shovel into the big outlander's back, shouting 'abomination.'

The Brothers who had sided with Brother Watts about the strangers being on the mountain didn't need more than that to jump the pair of them. From the way Pappa described it, they put up a good fight, too, which didn't make Brother Watts none too pleased with them for showing up our men.

I couldn't tell from how Pappa spoke just how he leaned toward the strangers. That bothered me some, for some reason I couldn't point to. It was that, much as my itchy brain, that got me up when Mamma's chair stopped, pulling my work dress right over my night clothes, and crawling out the dormer window. From the edge of the roof, it's an easy hop to the shed roof, and from there to the branches of a big tree. In fact, I can get from my place to anywhere in the compound, by climbing on rooftops, trees, and the stockade fence.

Hiding is a lot easier when you aren't at people level, and over their heads is best of all.

Getting into the church rafters was the hardest part, and I couldn't have done it if the men hadn't been raising such a racket. As it was, they never heard the creak of the window being pried open, and my gray dress fit into the shadows over their heads easy enough. Turned out I had the best seat, seeing as I was right over top of the Elders themselves.

In the middle of all the yelling and preaching, two of the Brothers came in with Mr. Sandburg between him. Dirty and bloody as he was, he stood there tall and proud, hands tied in front of him, head up but eyes respectfully down. At a sign from the First Elder, the Brothers stepped aside, leaving him there alone.

Still he didn't say anything, just waited, weaving a little, probably sick and dizzy from his head. Nobody else said anything either, which puzzled me some. Seemed extra mean to make him just stand there in silence. If it was supposed to scare him or worry him, it didn't work. He kept right on waiting.

Finally, First Elder spoke softly. "Mr. Sandburg."

"Yes, sir?" For the life of me I am never going to understand why his being polite and respectful made everybody buzz so. Are *all* outlanders so ill mannered that it surprises people when they act as they should?

Even First Elder was surprised some by it, though he didn't let it show as much. "For the sake of your eternal soul, I have some very important questions to ask. Please answer them, and if you are tempted by the Evil One to lie, be assured I'll hear him in your words."

"I have no reason to lie to you, sir. Please feel free to ask what you must." Mr. Sandburg had lifted his eyes to meet First Elder's steadily, and for the first time I could see he had blue eyes, like his friend, but his were darker, deeper.

First Elder couldn't hide his surprise that time, but he throat-cleared and humphed his way past it, finally getting around to pushing something across the podium Mr. Sandburg's way. About then it hit me that anybody else in the outlander's position, even one of the Brothers, would be sweating some. No matter how innocent or brave he was.

"Young man, you told our Brothers that you and Detective Ellison were partners in Cascade Police Department." The man who founded our Community bent his iron gray head over those things, looking at them real intent like.

"Yes, sir."

"Your identification calls you an observer, Mr. Sandburg. And there is another card here that marks you as a student at Rainier University."

"Yes, sir."

"All three are correct, Mr. Sandburg? How is that possible?" First Elder's voice never changed at all, but at this last he looked up like he was going to stab the outlander with eyes as gray as his hair.

Never loosing his quiet, smooth words, Mr. Sandburg explained how he could go to school, work for the police, and be given to Mr. J... Ellison to watch over as he did. He said it worked out so well, their captain keeps him around to help with special projects sometimes. He said he teaches, too. I don't quite know what it is Mr. Sandburg teaches, but he made it sound like he thought the most important thing about it was helping people get along. First Elder liked that as much as I did, if the comfortable way he sat in his chair was any thing to go by.

Or maybe he did that because of his next question; it sure woke up the hive in the meeting room again. "Sir, I see from your driver's license that you and Mr. Ellison share an address. Is this common practice for partners?"

When First Elder stopped for a second, studying what he had wrote, Mr. Sandburg piped up, "Sir, please excuse me, but, may I ask a question?" Me, I kinda got the impression First Elder was tired of being surprised by Mr. Sandburg, but liked him mostly. So he nodded once, and the outlander said, "Your Brothers told me a few things about your Community - that it withdrew from my world because you didn't want your children contaminated by the wrong path the US government was on. That you're dedicated to raising them in the spirit and ideals of the founding fathers. Does this mean that you still believe a man, even a stranger, has the right to know what he stands accused of?"

"I should think, Mr. Sandburg," First Elder said solemnly, "that given the Brothers enthusiasm for carrying out their responsibility in respect of the sin they believed you had committed, you would be more than aware of their charge." (Yes, he really does talk like he's reading from a book. I'm telling you what I *heard* not what I made up.)

Standing betwixt two mad soldiers, nothing between him and their anger but custom, Mr. Sandburg smiled a lopsided smile and said out-spokenly, "All I know from the Brothers, sir, is that they fear abominations and believe I am one. They haven't taken it upon themselves to enlighten me as to what, exactly, an abomination *is.*"

Well about time somebody or another got around to answering that!

Looked to me like Brother Watts was going to answer the question with his rifle stock, but First Elder frowned at him. The look he gave Mr. Sandburg wasn't a mean one, but his words were for all that. "The Brothers accuse you of being a sodomite."

Mr. Sandburg blinked, his hands going up to his mouth, and he repeated in a squeaky voice, "Sodomite? As in homosexual?"

For the first time in a while Brother Watts looked some satisfied; this was what he expected from the outlanders - fear and guilt. Except, of course, it wasn't fear Mr. Sandburg was hiding behind his hands; it was a huge grin that he made a manly job of trying to put down. Couldn't be done, though, and he wound up sitting hard on the bare planks, shoulders shaking as he tried to hold his guffaws in. Or at least down to polite levels.

Bout the time First Elder's patience began to run out, Mr. Sandburg gasped, "Okay, okay, I can see *me* being mistaken as gay. My mother lost my father before I was born and raised me by herself, for the most part. I know I'm not the most masculine example of manhood to be found, in part, because of that. But *JIM!* Mr. James Cop-of-the-Year, Army Ranger Captain, Black Ops, I-can-hide-the-body-so-it-will-never-be-found Ellison? Oh, man, are *you* ever wrong!"

The last was not the smartest thing Mr. Sandburg could have said, and I think the only reason he didn't get his head smashed in right then and there was because the Brothers were beginning to get the idea they had made a mistake. Or maybe they'd just never had anybody laugh at them before and didn't know what they should do. Thankfully, before they could decide, the Elder picked his jaw up off the podium and gestured right smartly for Mr. Sandburg to be taken out.

Up in the nook I had chosen for myself, I had to put a wad of my dress in my mouth to keep from howling. I still didn't know for sure what an abomination was, (In my opinion the Word ain't none too clear on exactly what it was the citizens of Sodomy did that angered the Good Lord so) but to see the menfolk so discombobulated was worth the risk of spying.

No sooner than Mr. Sandburg had been 'helped' out none too gently by the Brothers, Mr. Ellison was brought in. Limping some, he still held himself as proud as his friend had, but stood like one of the Brothers: head up, shoulders back, staring at some place that didn't exist while he waited for First Elder.

Now it was a good chance that by then, First Elder was plain old every day out of surprise. He just nodded at the big man and jumped right in. "For the sake of your eternal soul, I have some very important questions to ask. Please answer them, and if you are tempted by the Evil One to lie, be assured I'll hear him in your words."

Still looking away, Mr. Ellison barked, "Respectfully, *no* sir!"

First Elder laid down his pen, leaned his head on his hand, and held up the other so that the Brother behind Mr. Ellison lowered his weapon. "Perhaps, Detective Ellison, you don't realize how grave your situation is."

"Yes, sir, I do."

Sighing tiredly, First Elder said, "Then why won't you answer my questions?"

Mr. Ellison looked at First Elder directly for the first time and said quietly. "We're already dead men, sir. Why waste your time and my breath?"

"If you heard the charge against you, son, then you also know your friend has already spoken well in your mutual defense. There's no reason to jump to conclusions."

"Sir, your people had decided our guilt before they brought us here - and so had you. Or does your doctrine have so little room for mercy for strangers that you always hold presumed innocent men in cages with no food, water, or treatment for their injuries? Even if you decide your..." Mr. Ellison had to stop here and hold his breath, and the blue of his eyes *blazed* with the words he couldn't let go. "..Brothers here were in error, I heard Trevors tell another that there would still be a hanging tomorrow, because we had seen the Compound. Even though we were brought here against our will for no just cause, we have to die.

"All I want to know, sir, is whether or not the man responsible for our murders will be punished."

Oh, my, did the bees that had been buzzin' start stingin' for sure. Everybody was shouting, stomping, hitting things, slamming their Bibles down to try to outdo everyone else. Mr. Ellison winced - well, it was an unruly mess in there - and our Earthly Father leaned over the podium and grabbed a Brother to yell in his ear. They took Mr. Ellison out after that, and I took my leave, too. Likely nothing was going to be said for the rest of the night that would make much sense. ‘Cause Mr. Ellison was right; one of our first and most serious laws was that no outlander could see the Compound, its women, and its defenses and live. So by bringing them in, the Brothers had as good as murdered them, if their charges were unjust. It didn't take no schooling to know the menfolk were going to be arguing for hours as to whether outlanders had the right to ask for justice.

Knowing Mamma would sleep in her chair until Pappa got back from meeting, and Pappa wouldn't leave until most of the other menfolk had talked themselves out, I took myself over to God's Mercy to hear if misters Ellison and Sandburg would have something clearer to say about sodomites. My way is considerable shorter than the Brothers, and I didn't mind turning my back on the most excitement seen around here in a while, like they did. So I got to God's Mercy ahead of Mr. Ellison, and this time laid myself out on a branch that lay alongside the only window.

Through it I could see Mr. Sandburg and Brother Michael's talking, but before I could get my ear to the gap between the pane and the frame, Brother Watts came in. Ordering Brother Michael's out sharp like, he took out a handgun, and walked to loom over Mr. Sandburg.

And that's when I finally understood what a sodomite was, and why the men called them abominations. Brother Watts face held a look the women folk in the compound knew all too well, even me, and all of us avoided a man wearing it. Lust had stirred in his loins for Mr. Sandburg, hot and evil, and he would be blaming Mr. Sandburg for it, as if it were the outlander man's fault that the devil had visited him.

Now, Mamma has explained to me a hundred times why women were punished by Our Lord for Eve's sin in Eden, but I ain't never gonna understand why we get blamed for being there when a man decides to notice a woman. It's not like we want a man *seeing* us; it never means anything but grief. It wasn't going to mean anything but grief to Mr. Sandburg, too. I could tell and so could he. As best he could, he got to his feet, and Brother Watts rubbed at his mouth with his free hand.

Much as it shames me to admit, my first thought was to wonder how men handled such things among themselves. If a man accused a woman of practicing the art of Eve on him, he'd either go to her father or husband, or bring it out during evening prayer meeting for the Community to judge her. Either way, it meant no good for the woman since they never even ask her what happened.

But my hand was reaching for the half ripe nuts hanging around me before I had time to shame myself for the thought, and I tossed a bunch of them onto the tin roof of God's Mercy. Brother Watts jumped almost out of his skin, and Mr. Sandburg used the chance to dodge around him and put himself in the doorway so that he could be seen by anybody coming toward the building. Calling to his friend, he deliberately turned his back on Brother Watts. I still haven't decided if it was meant as a rebuke, or if he was only glad to see his Mr. Ellison in one piece.

Before Brother Watts could pull himself together, they all came trooping in, and Mr. Ellison shot him a hard look. Didn't say nothing, though, but looked at the man holding a gun on him like he was waiting for something. That Brother twisted his mouth sourly, but told the others that First Elder had ordered that they be treated like fellows, not outlanders.

More sour mouths showed over that, but more looked relieved, including the outlanders. In short order they were brought water, big bowls of stew from the Brothers' kitchen, and things for their wounds. Then the Brother guarding them manacled a leg on each of them to one of the beams, and left, locking the door behind. Groaning quietly, Mr. Sandburg hit the dirt backside first again, and put his head down on his arms and knees.

There was enough give in the chain that Mr. Ellison could reach him. He took one of the rags, soaked it in the water, and started cleaning the wound on his friend's scalp. I couldn't see what made him say it, but he told the smaller man, gentle and easy, "Don't, Chief. Don't. If we change the way we treat each other, we make ourselves look guiltier in their eyes. And we damage the best weapon we have against them."

Mr. Sandburg turned up his face, so that his cheek was on his arm. "Our friendship and trust."

"Look, I've managed to confuse the issue, bought some time for us, I think. We both know they're not going to just let us go. We have to be thinking about escape, here. And that means relying on each other. You up to this, Chief?"

Closing his eyes, Mr. Sandburg asked. "Jim, I've got a concussion, don't I?"

"Yeah, but we can work around that."

"Maybe you should..."

"Don't even *think* about it, Sandburg. It's not an option." Mr. Ellison sounded mad.

"I'd only hold you back; you can go get help." Mr. Sandburg sounded stubborn, and for some reason that made me grin.

"No."

"Jim..."

"No. They'd kill you, dispose of the body, then it'd be my word against theirs. No. Drop it."

Through the window it was hard to tell which one looked more mulish, and I kinda hunched my shoulders, waiting for Mr. Ellison to put Mr. Sandburg in his place, him being the younger and all. But they kinda grinned at each other, suddenly, and I saw in their eyes a soft, sweet look I've seen before. Not often, but I have seen it. It was the way Brother Michaels looked at Virginia before her father gave her to Mr. Louis for a wife, and the way I've seen my own Pappa look at Mamma when she sits by the fire knitting and singing. It's why I'm in no hurry to remind him I'm marrying age, myself. I want to see that on a man when he looks at *me.* It lasted a breath, then Mr. Ellison went back to fixing up the scholar, calm as you please, neither of them seeming to notice what all was in the look they shared.

Well, I said I didn't understand men on the best of days. Outsiders are even harder to get a hold on. How could they look at each other like that and not know how special it is?

Not much more was said or done after that. They did the best they could with each other's scratches and bumps, ate - or Mr. Sandburg tried to (his stomach was probably swimmy), and then got put back in the cages where I knew they'd stay except for meals and a chance to pray and clean up. Yes, that is how we treat our fellows who are in God's Mercy, and I know it's a far sight from how outsiders do it. The scholar and his friend took it well enough, I guess, though Mr. Ellison did insist polite like that his friend needed to be looked after some better, with an extra blanket and water on hand. Got his way, too, which told me more than anything the Brothers were really beginning to regret what they did.

As soon as their mad got bigger than their shame over that, Mr. Ellison and Mr. Sandburg were in trouble. I could only hope the Elders would make a good judgement for them before that happened. In the meantime, I had to get myself back home. Mr. Ellison was right; he had confused things good for the Elders, and I suspected that the Community would be in an uproar for a while. Which meant that all the women would need to look sharp for their men's short tempers. A body was going to need her rest.

***

Sure enough, for the next few days tempers were high and patience was low. The blessing was that the Elders sent almost all the Brothers to the perimeter, since they were sure the outlanders would be searched for. But that meant there weren't enough young backs on hand to do the heavy work, and some chores had to be left undone, and by in all, things were well and truly knocked off kilter.

That put my Pappa in a *terrible* state, almost as much as the outlanders calling for judgements, themselves. He's the sort that likes things orderly, black and white, and each question with an answer. Change makes him grumpy and hard to live with. So I made myself as helpful as possible to Mamma, and scarce as possible to Pappa, and I still managed to sneak off to watch the outlanders once in a while.

Other households must have been in as bad as shape, cause there were suddenly lots of community projects for the women to work on together in the common kitchen or in the square. I'll be blessed if each and every female in our Community didn't find a private moment to pump me for what I knew! My Mamma may have raised a sneak, but she didn't raise no *stupid* sneak. I told only what I could have found out without being where I wasn't supposed to be.

In return, I got a few answers of my own, like that there is actually a passage in the Word that says a man shall not lie with a man, and what exactly it is that they are supposed to do to each other. The woman who told me that, Mrs. Lathan, laughed at me when she saw my face, and told me that men liked to do that to women, too. *That* made me even ickier inside, so I demanded coldly whether or not those were marital acts approved by the Elders.

That was mean of me, and I made it up to her as soon as I could by taking her share of the outhouse duty. Whether it was one of the acts approved or not, a woman doesn't have much choice in it. Who could she complain to that would believe her? Her mother?

The icky feeling didn't stop me none from watching them. And the Lord's truth is I didn't know if I wanted them not to be that way with each other or if I didn't. It put my whole brain in a tizzy that a man would lay as a woman, ever. Knowing how the Brothers and Elders felt about *women* doing it, it made plain why they considered one of their own who would submit like that an abomination. But, if they did, it spoke of love way past anything I'd ever believed. Or of a lust equally huge. And I could not, could not wrap my thoughts around that.

Over the two days they were held in God's Mercy, I saw nothing to speak of. Nothing. Only that one look shared. They did what they had to do, not complaining, though it couldn't have been easy for that big man to spend so much time in the cage. Every time he came out he was nearly crippled from crampy muscles, and his friend would patiently work as much of them out as he could before changing the bandage on the burn. The scholar wasn't much better off. A crack on the skull needs quiet, comfort, sleep, and warmth to heal, and he was hardly even getting enough water. Mr. Ellison did the best he could, making sure the wound was clean and coaxing bread soaked in stew down him, and giving him his blanket.

Funny thing, I think he looked at me once, through the crack in the floorboards. They were talking about how much time they might have before the elders decided, and if they would always keep a guard on the door, when he up and looked right at me. Don't tell me it wasn't so, that he couldn't have seen me standing in the dark with only my eyes at the hole. Oh, he turned his head away all casual like, but he started talking to his friend in some foreign tongue, and a few seconds later, Mr. Sandburg laid down full on the floor so his face was only inches from mine. I left right away, and when I came back again - and those two were beginning to eat all my thoughts and questions, all the time, no doubt I'd go back - there was little piles of dirt on my side and the board was looser.

Because they was preying on my mind so, I couldn't help but notice when Brother Watts walked up to the guard on the door and spoke to him, quiet. He wasn't supposed to be back at all, yet, but here he was, and whatever he was saying to the guard pleased both of them too much for my peace. Counting quickly on my fingers, I went to my own home and began pulling together what I would need for a stay in the Woman's House. Mamma watched, but didn't say nothing. It was close enough to my monthly she believed. Besides, given Pappa's mood, she was probably glad to be shut of me.

At the woman's house I set it up to look like I'd gone to gather some herbs to feel better, and pulled the curtains closed, to ask to be left alone, the way all of us did sometimes. It wasn't common for me, so I figured the others would stay away unless they needed to be there. Then I made it fast as I could to my hidey hole. This time I was sure the outlanders had been at it - another board was loose. The way the cellar was built though, getting through from the topside was much harder. My heart decided afore my head; I went to work on the other boards.

Over my head, I heard them whispering to each other with those odd sounding words, but paid them no mind and set to work.

When the door opened, I froze, and scuttled to one side so I could see who it was. Brother Watts came into the room, reaching to take the leather strap off the wall as he did. Gun in hand he went over to the saw horses where Mr. Sandburg's cage was, and opened it up, using the business end of the gun to show him out.

Moving as slow as he dared, Mr. Sandburg went over to pillar he was usually chained to, and waited, watching Brother Watts, beast-worried at what he thought the other man was up to. Didn't take no genuis to know it was no good, and the Brother proved it by chaining Mr. Sandburg's hands over his head, back to him. With a knife he split the back of the scholar's shirts, then stepped back to swing the strap.

"What, not got enough balls to take what you really want?" Mr. Sandburg taunted before the first blow, twisting in the chains enough to face his punisher. "Going to try to drive the devil out of your flesh by tormenting mine? Isn't going to work, is it, *Brother* Watts?"

My, oh my, oh my, I thought the Brother was going to have a fit right then and there. His face was so red it was nigh near purple, mouth so twisted and mean he couldn't have talked if'n his life depended on it. Mine was wide open, looking for flies like, but I still found time to wonder at how quiet Mr. Ellison was. Figured him to be threatening Broth... no *Mr.* Watts, he don't deserve no honor, with unholy retribution.

A sidelong peek showed Mr. Ellison busy at something on the wires of his cage. I couldn't tell what, mind you; all I could see was a flash of red and silver. Then Watts swung the strap, and I couldn't look away from what he was doing, thinking that by watching I was helping some way, dumb as that sounds. First stroke missed cause Mr. Sandburg dodged it and Watts was too angry to aim right.

Swinging again, he got in one good lick, then missed the next two as Mr. Sandburg squirmed away. "Stupid, man, real stupid," he told Watts. "Gonna tell the Elders the devil made you miss, huh? Or do they even know you're in here? Think they aren't going to notice a few whip marks, here and there?"

"My right!" Watts sputtered, spitting almost. "Your trickery may have blinded those old fools, but not me and my men. We can see what you are. By the time the Elders (and the way he said the word made me afeared of him, truly and deeply) "see their way to making a decision, there won't be a need for one. And don't think they won't be grateful to be spared needing to solve an outsider problem. Smug, satisfied old men sitting safe in their nests, leaving real men to protect and defend them..."

All the while he preached blasphemy against our Elders he was swinging wildly at Mr. Sandburg, trying to hit him but missing more often than not. He kept standing closer and closer to the bound man, then finally threw down the strap, enraged, and tore open his pants. His male thing was redder than his face, and weeping at the end, and I felt heat in my face at seeing a man like that.

Taking his knife out again, he stomped up to Mr. Sandburg, I don't rightly know what he meant to do next, and maybe he didn't either, he was in such a fury. But before he could touch the outlander, Mr. Ellison's cage suddenly rocked hard, and you could hear the squeal of the nails as it tore itself free from the sawhorses. Watts half turned at the sound, in time to see it crash to the ground and Mr. Ellison's foot break the frame away from one end. 'Afore Watts could do much more than blink, open mouthed, Mr. Sandburg kicked, swinging from the hip, catching the other man square in the crotch.

I never knew a man could make a sound like that - all sorta breathy and high-pitched. Holding himself, he doubled over, almost sticking himself with his own knife. Mr. Sandburg kicked again, this time hitting him on the jaw, and Watts just kinda fell over, not even moaning. A few feet away, Mr. Ellison kicked the rest of the end out of the way, and scrambled out of the cage, loosing some skin as he did.

Limping bad, now, I could see where getting through the barbed wire had tore at him, he got over to the downed man to get the keys, then let Mr. Sandburg loose from the manacles. Somehow he held him steady til his friend was sitting again, looking over the whip marks as he did.

Mr. Ellison knows some right interesting swear words.

Soon as he was sure the scholar was okay, he stuffed Watts into the cage, taking away his gun and knife as he did. Picking up the silver and red thing I'd seen him using, he handed it to Mr. Sandburg. Sinking down to lean on the same pillar as the other man, Mr. Ellison said, "Thank God those arrogant s.o.b's didn't bother to search our pockets. Next time you see the person who gave that to you for your bar mitzvah, give him or her a hug from me."

"Uh, huh, man, no way," Mr. Sandburg said tiredly, but trying to smile for all that. "I do *not* want my insides re-arranged with one of Aunt Tillie's return hugs. How about if I just point her in your direction and you express your gratitude yourself?"

"No thank you, Sandburg. I can find my own dates."

They both laughed a little at that, but then Mr. Sandburg slumped, and Mr. Ellison eased him down flat to the ground. After he'd fetched some blankets, he bundled him up, then checked on the bleeding cuts in his own legs. The scholar watched him through half opened eyes, wincing for the big policeman as he cleaned and put salve on the hurts. When he was finally done, Mr. Ellison laid beside his friend, holding him across his chest to keep him from the cold floor. "Go ahead and rest. My guess is that none of the other Brothers will come check on us until meal time, and it'll be night before then. Soon as it's dark enough, we'll get out of here and off this God-forsaken mountain."

"Really think we're going to be able to make it?" Mr. Sandburg didn't sound upset or even uncertain. To my surprise, he only sounded sad. "I saw how badly you were limping."

Now, Mr. Ellison's face don't normally say much, I'd guess from what I'd seen of him, but I could tell that, for a second there, he wasn't sure what to say back to the scholar. "I think there's a chance, and I'd rather get shot trying to escape than meekly wait for them to decide when we're to die," he said, finally. That he chose to speak what was the plain truth instead of trying to cheer the smaller man up said more than he knew. To me, anyways, and pretty plainly to his friend, too.

Shifting so that he was chest to chest with Mr. Ellison, looking down into his face, Mr. Sandburg laid his right hand gently on the tall man's cheek. "Jim, I'd rather be hanged as a sinner than hanged as a saint." There was a clear second of confusion and alarm in Mr. Ellison's eyes, then I couldn't see them anymore 'cause the scholar bent and kissed him.

They weren't that far from me, and I could see easy that the policeman was real surprised. He didn't hit his friend, or push him away, though he coulda been made from rock he was so still. But by and by his arms crept up to hold the man on top of him, and he started kissing back.

Now, I've seen a few kisses in my time - including some that weren't supposed to be happening, if you catch my meaning - so I knew enough to tell when it went from sweet to interested to hungry to Dear-Lord-In-Heaven. 'Bout that point, Mr. Ellison did push the scholar away - careful, real careful - and stared at him while trying to catch his breath.

Mr. Sandburg weren't in much better shape; for all that he started it, he looked more shook up than his friend. "Jim..."

"Where the hell did that come from?" Mr. Ellison asked soft.

"I..." Touching their foreheads together, Mr. Sandburg whispered, "The few times I thought of being with a man, I was pretty much, well, that's not for me cause girls are *definitely* my thing, but if the right person asked, I might try, just to see, you know?"

Before Mr. Ellison could speak, Mr. Sandburg put a finger on his lips. "But if I'm going to die, it would be really nice if my last memories were of being held and loved, and if that, that..." He stuttered for a second, and I got the notion from Mr. Jim that it was rare for the other man not to have a word ready, "*thing* gets the chance to have its way with me, I'd very much like to have the thought of you being there first to hold onto. And if," he raised his head to look into Mr. Jim's eyes, "we do get away, I know we can work our way around it without hurting our partnership. I love and trust you that much."

Combing locks of hair away from Mr. Blair's face with his fingers, Mr. Jim sighed, then told him, "I don't know a thing about this kind of loving, Chief. The first time I understood exactly what it is two men do together, all I could think of was Ouch! But I never thought there was anything wrong in it."

"Is that a yes?"

For an answer, Mr. Jim pulled him down for another kiss, and he must have said yes very, very well cause Mr. Blair started making these little noises in the back of his throat. When he came up for air, Mr. Jim said. "You've been thinking about this for a while?"

"Yes. No. Yes, I guessed I'd say yes to you, but it never occurred to me you'd ask, so it was only an occasional random thought. But when I realized Watts would take what he wanted, and had the power to get away with it.... yeah, I had a long, cold night to consider it." Mr. Blair started petting the big man with fleeting touches, not daring to do more. "I know you haven't had the time I've had, but there's not a lot of that, right now."

Again Mr. Ellison chose to answer with his body, but this time he breathed tiny kisses all over the scholar's face. "Always told me to trust my instincts," he muttered. "This is *right.*"

Pulling the blankets around them, he gently put Mr. Blair under him and covered his mouth. I could see the smaller man's hands come up to grapple for a better hold, trying to hang on with all he had.

God forgive me, I should have stopped watching at that point, but Mr. Jim moved his lips down the throat of his...lover and I could see Mr. Blair's face. I've never seen any pleasure, any joy purer than what was there, and it held me fixed. Nor had I ever imagined that a man would taste all of someone's body, and that it could make them writhe and whimper, all hungry and needy.

By the time he uncovered Mr. Blair's maleness, which was ready and straining straight up, I don't think it would have made difference to them if they had been at their leisure in a big feather bed. Mr. Blair arched up, Mr. Jim took him in his mouth just like that. He seemed kinda clumsy at it, but it must not have mattered. The scholar made fists, held his lover's head with them, and cried out his finish.

I was made all liquid and hot inside, my lips and other tender places tremblin', all from the sight of joyful love. No power, not even the threat to my soul, could have made me move when Mr. Jim turned Mr. Blair lovingly to his side and spooned up behind him. Catching only a glimpse of his hardness, I had half a second to wonder how it could *fit*, when he started doing something with his hands and some of the salve behind Mr. Blair's body.

Whatever it was made the scholar start those sweet sounds again, and I could see his manhood start to rise. After a bit, pillowing Mr. Blair's head on an upper arm, making a white-knuckled fists across his chest, Mr. Jim rocked in. From the white, pinched lips on Mr. Blair, I thought maybe it *wasn't* going to fit, but he didn't let the other man stop.

It must have, somehow, and it must have been wonderful for Mr. Jim. Mouth open, head back, he was shaking all over, and all I could think was that he was waiting for something from his lover before taking his satisfaction. Mr. Blair must have thought that, too, cause he started moving easy and slow, rolling his hips in a way we must all be aborn knowing. At the beginning, just moving must have been a pure act of love, cause it was pain I saw. But pain birthed something else, something that scared and thrilled and woke Eve's lust in me.

There was no giving, no taking, just *sharing,* and it was vigorous and tender and demanding, all at once and all together. They worked together, each with a hand on Blair for his pleasure, whispering half words and begging promises to one another, til Jim bent his lips to his partner's ear and spoke to him of forever. At that the big man's body jolted and quaked, and I think he woulda screamed if'n he'd the breath for it. There's no word that I know of for the sound Blair made, but then he was spurting over their hands, whimpering.

I wanted.. I wanted... oh, bless me, even now I don't know what I wanted, and my hunger and confusion sent me scramblin' away from my peep hole. To this day I carry in my mind's eye a gift they never knew they gave me, the one that made the chance I took worth while and my days easier. How many people, in their lives, are graced with the sight of true peace and love?

Well, I huddled down at the other end of the cellar until my heart and lungs decided they'd work hard enough for a while. Then I picked up an old, rusty screwdriver left behind and tackled them boards again, not daring to risk looking into the crack.

After a few minutes, I heard Mr. Jim say something, then Mr. Blair scooted across the floor, by the sound of things and his shadow fell over the opening I'd made.

"Hi." He said it soft, so as not to frighten me, I guess.

"Hello, yourself," I kinda grunted, since I was pulling hard on a nail.

"My partner says he's heard you down there a couple of times, and thinks you might want to help."

"Mr. Ellison has the right of it. Not that anybody would ask me, mind you, but I don't rightly believe that the Brothers and Elders are going to see eye to eye on what to do with you, and since they can't decide, well, I might as well, mightn't I?"

"Will this get you in trouble?" Mr. Jim asked.

Laughing in spite of myself, I told him, "If'n I get caught. Or you tell. And since I ain't planning on the first and it you got more sense than to do the second, I ain't worried none." Then, not wanting to be thought a liar, "Not much, least ways. Once we get this pried up enough," and I dropped another board down, "I can show you how to get out of the Compound without being seen." Under my breath, I added, "I hope, cause those wide shoulders of yours are going to be something of a trial in the small places I go."

It seemed Mr. Ellison choked a bit for some reason, and while he did, his friend asked, "Is there something we can do up here to help?"

"Make sure Brother Watts is out cold and stays that way. It'd take him about two seconds to know a graymouse was the only person who'd know to sneak from underneath like this. When you're out, we'll have to make it look like you did it your own selves."

"Done. If you can get another board.. here let me..." He pushed while I pulled and it came away, and they could see me for the first time. Oh my, weren't they both handsome up close. Well, far away, too, but up close and me thinking of how I'd seen them a bit ago... I gulped, and put my eyes back on the work at hand.

Putting a single finger on my cheek, Mr. Ellison made me look back up. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," I said shortly, trying to hide my red face.

The three of us concentrated on the floor, and afore long Mr. Blair was skinning through, Mr. Ellison right behind, struggling some cause of his size. While the scholar helped me smudge my trail, the other man took in the small cellar with a few glances, and went straight to the gap in the timbers I use as a door. "Nobody close," he whispered, "and it's dark enough."

For three hours we went like that. I would show the way, Mr. Ellison would stop to look and listen while Mr. Sandburg would make sure we left no sign behind. He'd have to lean on me, ever so often, and each time Mr. Ellison would look him over and wait for a nod or wave from the small man before going on. But Mr. Ellison moved slower and slower, favoring his hurt leg, and I worried that when the Brothers found them gone, that it'd be all too easy to catch up to them before they got away.

Then Mr. Ellison stopped and stood very straight, his head tilted to one side. I listened too, but all I heard was the hoot of an owl and the scurry scurry of bugs. Calling his friend's name, Mr. Sandburg caught up to him, and took him by the arm. Shaking his head, Mr. Ellison said, "They're searching for us. Do you know how much further to a main road?"

Real sorry, I told him, "I only know as far as the boundaries of our lands." Without warning, I shuddered. "You don't want to know what they do to women they catch outside. I never much had a reason to chance it. Best I can tell you is that," and I pointed to the south, "Is the fastest way to people. The Brothers don't usually go that way when they go into town cause it's so rough, but I've heard them talk about it."

With a look between them, they considered and decided, then Mr. Ellison took out the gun and opened it, checking the bullets. "Maybe you'd better get back now, Graymouse."

Shaking my head, I moved past a few feet. "No, not yet. There's patrols and I know their ways. Let me get you past that, first."

Mr. Sandburg spoke up, and his question shook me. "Is Brother Michaels on patrol? Near here?" He smiled at my worry, and added, "He doesn't think the Brothers and the Elders are going to see the right of it, either. Seeing you be brave enough to help, might make him brave enough, too. If you're willing."

They let me think on that while I took them as far as I could. All the things I knew about Brother Michaels - his fairness, his gentleness, the grief in his eyes when he was denied the wife he'd chosen, how much he reminded me of my Pappa's good side, rose up, and when I heard Mr. Ellison tell Mr. Sandburg that men were just ahead, I skittered away, hissing at them to stay put, for mercy's sake.

A runner was just getting up from where he'd been sitting to catch his breath, gasping that the outlanders were loose in the Compound. Brother Michael's was one of the three men in the patrol, and he stood at the edge, shaking his head. Mouth dry and heart hurting, I slipped to the edge of the shadow I was in, enough that my moving caught his eye. He looked straight at me, I looked straight back, and then he turned away as if nothing had happened and volunteered to stay on duty so the others could go search.

They took off, and he turned off his lamp, waiting for his eyes to fit themselves back to night. "Ms. Elizabeth?" he whispered.

"Hush! Nobody here but a tiny, worthless mouse with no name, you hear me, Brother? And I got friends with me."

"A very brave mouse, if you ask me." Mr. Ellison spoke into the night, and I couldn't help a very embarrassing mouse-like shriek. The pair of them practically ghosted into being, standing right next to Brother Michaels.

"Gentlemen, if the Brothers find you now..." he warned, dropping the gun he'd raised, startled.

"We won't give them the satisfaction," Mr. Sandburg broke in. "Is there some safe way to cover for Mis... Graymouse? We don't want her punished for doing what the men should have had the courage to do."

"If I know the person in question, there's no need. She's probably more than taken care of it herself."

"Mamma didn't raise no *stupid* sneak," I murmured and all three men laughed. Funny thing, it wasn't *at* me, and I found I could laugh too. "Brother, will you take them into town? They'll search the Compound for hours before they'll believe outlanders could get past the walls. If you're missed, you can always say you ran into Outlanders searching for them."

"And it wouldn't be no lie," Brother Michaels said. "There's a party not half a mile from here, led by the biggest, stubborness, black man I ever saw in my life. Keeps insisting that his men *are* on this mountain, and he isn't leaving until he finds them."

"Simon!" the outlanders sang together, and Mr. Sandburg swayed and was caught up by his friend to lean into his side. "We need to hurry." Mr. Ellison said solemnly.

For a minute Brother Michaels stared at them, eyes going hard, but before he could say anything about what we could both see, Mr. Sandburg said, "You and the others came to this mountain to get away from what you saw as the evil and sin in the outside world. You were so sure you could leave it behind, and live a pure life. But you know now, don't you Brother, that you can't walk away from evil, you carried the seeds of it with you? And if you can't drive it from your own people, what right do you have to judge it in outlanders?"

Without thinking or meaning to, I added, "And how can love be evil?"

The three of them stared at where I hid in the shadows, but I had hit it right, and Brother Michaels eyes clouded with the memory of Virginia. "All right," he finally said grudgingly. And at that, he stalked away, leading the outlanders away from our lands and toward their friends.

They went past me, and Mr. Sandburg took my hand quickly, and gave it a squeeze, putting a stiff piece of paper inside. "If there is ever a way we..."

"I Thank thee." I said formally. "But my actions were righteous; I need only that."

Mr. Ellison touched my cheek again, and breathed into my ear. "And we thank you."

My last sight of them was only indistinct shapes fading into the night, though I had the thought that the shapes held and supported each other as they hobbled deeper into the forest.

Running, almost not caring if I was seen, I raced back to the Women's house, let myself back in, and threw myself on the narrow bed before bursting into tears. I was still sobbing when my Mamma came into the house with several other women, all intent on searching through the room. She only spared me a single look, but I had my arms over my middle, and she made up her own mind about why my face was wet.

No sign was ever found of the outsiders, and we lived in fear for weeks, waiting for the shoe to drop. It all had to go somewhere, and, by some mystery of God's will, Watts was the victim of it. After the longest stay I ever heard of in God's Mercy, he was banished from our Community, and everybody determinedly put him and the outlanders out of their minds and went on with their lives.

Pappa said it was all for the best; the strangers had shown them a viper in our midst, and in return, God had given them their lives. That while it was almost beyond understanding that He would choose such messengers, He could make holy even the most debased of men. And surely, all outlanders were, especially those men who lay with men.

Turning the piece of paper with two names and what must be a telephone number over and over in my fingers, I think.. I think... I think maybe Pappa is wrong.

finis