Stormfeather Ch. 05

He smiled, "She made me practice near plenty of water, since I burned down the lodge that we sat in with my first success before she could stop me."

"How do you mean even as you do something else?" she asked.

He looked at her, "There is an old dead tree trunk broken off long ago by lightning. It stands outside the fence behind me all alone with nothing near to it. Can you see it?"

She looked out through the window behind him, "Yes."

"If you want to see what I mean, I will show how to think of one thing as you do another."

Amy stood and walked to the window to open it so that she could see without the grime and imperfections of the old glass. She sat back down to watch him. "Alright," she said, "What now?"

He shrugged, "If you are ready, I will burn it down."

"Go ahead, then," she said, expecting him to walk to the open window himself.

"I do not need to," he smiled at her.

She stared at him with some surprise, "I didn't say - "

"No," he smiled warmly, "It was what you were thinking. So Sheena, in all of my life I have not ever wanted to prove anything to anyone, but for my beautiful new friend here with me, I feel that I now must prove myself." He laughed softly, "Now I am the one who feels foolish."

He held up his hand, "Do you see that I hold nothing in my hand?"

She reached over and touched his hand, liking the feel of it, "Yes, there's nothing in your hand but my own. Do I have to let go now?"

He liked her soft grin but nodded sadly, "Yes, or you will be burned. This will not be like the last plaything."

He snapped his fingers and repeated the motions. The ball there in his hand glowed far brighter and Amy could feel the heat of it. She could barely even look at it. He lowered his hand, but the ball stayed where it was, lighting the room like a small sun.

"I cannot see the broken tree from where I sit. "he said, and continued to eat, ignoring the ball for the moment. Amy was about to remind him when the ball hissed for a second and then continued to float above the table. It made no further sound, but the tree fell over, completely engulfed. He finished his stew and smiled at her.

Amy stared and turned to him, "The horses ..."

He looked at the ball in the air and it faded away in response, "They are in no danger. The fire is out already. It only smokes now on its own and the wind will carry any sparks away from the barn. It will be stop smoking very soon. This is what was meant by thinking of something while doing something else." He shrugged a little sadly, "From my tenth winter, I could do things like this. I sometimes wish that I had been born an ordinary man."

"Maybe this isn't the best way to say it," Amy said, "but I'm pleased that you're you, just as you are. I'd still feel the same if you weren't this different, you'd still be remarkable to me, but I'd never have gotten to know you then, and I'm thankful that I have the chance. This just makes you more special to me."

It was incomprehensible to him, this calm acceptance of hers. He tilted his head at her remark, and said, "How...? I do not understand. Most people fear me, if they know."

Amy laughed a little, "It's alright. I can see that you're very different, but I don't think that you make me afraid of you. You're my friend. If you say that I have to lock myself in the house tonight, then that's what I'll do. So far, you haven't harmed me and maybe I'm being stupid to trust you, but it's what my heart says I should do."

She found his smile far more than charming. "You call me your friend, Sheena." He placed his hand on her slender shoulder, "Thank you for this. We call ourselves and others of my kind travelers, because almost all of us wander for most of our lives. To us, a friend is such a rare thing. To be alone is our way, because of what we are. It is even in our speech to one another if we should meet. We refer to each other as 'one', as I mentioned the old one whom I met here. I think you can understand how much the friendship that I feel from you might mean, even after so short a time."

Amy could only nod and smile. Inside, her heart flew from his touch. It was strange how he could affect her this way, she thought.

He shook his head, "You, of all the people who I have met, in all the years that I have been what I am, you are not afraid. I thought that you only hide your fear from what I can see in other people, but in you, I always see only calmness toward me. You accept me and what I am. Nothing that I do can really surprise you once the moment is past. You have a strong and still spirit to possess this calm acceptance." He grinned as a thought came to him, "A lot of people would run."

She placed her hand on his for a second, "I'm not most people, though I was surprised in the town. But now, anything that you do only proves that the one from my dreams is like nobody else, that's all."

He found himself with no answer for it and needed time to absorb how she'd said it, so he excused himself and went back to what he'd been doing on the floor. He knotted the end of one strip and cut it with his knife. He looked so intent on whatever he was doing with the skins that she didn't want to disturb him while he worked. She might even learn something, she told herself. It didn't take all that long for the gist of it to come to her, but she was still surprised when he smiled and placed them next to her feet.

She was looking at a pair of rabbit fur moccasins.

"For you," he said. "Long ago, I learned that while a woman can have the warmest heart, she often finds herself feeling at least a little cold."

Amy found herself humbled, "I can't thank you enough for these, Stormfeather, but why?"

"I have been here for a little while now," he said, "and I have caught a few rabbits and other animals to eat over the time. I usually stretch out the hides because I think it is bad to waste what you have been given, but I had no use for them myself - until I saw your picture Sheena, and then I knew I had something to make. See if they will fit you."

They were a touch on the tight side, but they were so soft, she was sure that they'd stretch easily and they did. He'd sewn a layer of deerskin to the soles, and she found them unbelievably warm and comfortable. At that point, she began to really examine what else he'd been up to and her eyes opened wide in surprise as he held up what he'd almost finished. Amy couldn't believe it. He'd fashioned a vest for her similar to the one in her sketch out of antelope skin. Her mouth fell open.

"This is only the outer part," he said, "I want something different for the inside, but I do not have it yet. It is still warm weather now anyway, but now the skins will not be wasted. I think that I know that what you saw might or will happen, Sheena, and it is better to have what you need than need what you do not have, if you can understand, and,..."

She saw a bit of a twinkle there, and smiled back, "And?"

He shrugged, "I just wanted to make it for you after I saw the drawing. And now I have room to stretch more hides if I need to. I still wonder about your drawing. I was holding a gun."

She nodded, "The one that I drew in your hands is right over there by the back door. It's my Pa's old deck gun. He kept it from his sailing days. It's made short to handle in tight places. You use it to clear the deck if you get into a fight with people you don't want on the deck of your ship. You can use it to hunt birds or rabbits, even deer, but that's not what it was made for."

Stormfeather smiled a little sadly, "This is one thing that is wrong about your dream, Sheena. Your father saw me looking at it and gave it to me. After he died, I wasted enough of his shells to learn that I can never hit anything with it," the smile turned rueful as he remembered, "so I put it back where I first saw it."

She pointed to him and he saw that she spoke with some gravity, "If my Pa gave it to you, then I want you to have it. Please bring it here, and I promise that you'll hit what you aim at almost every time," she winked at him as she went to a shelf for the box of shells. She saw that he'd used only four.

He saw her confident expression, but had his doubts. Nonetheless, he did as she asked and took her outstretched hand as she led him to an old shed, where she pulled out an old metal tub of long-dried paint. She moved him to a spot a certain distance from it.

"This is a shotgun," she said, "It has a much shorter useful range than a rifle, but it has a punch all the same. This is about as far as you can get for hitting something hard with most of the pellets in the shell. On that one, the left barrel is the straight bore. Remember this distance, and don't fire at anything much farther than this. The other barrel has a choke to punch a little bit farther away. For animals, it doesn't matter much which one you use if you're this close. For birds and rabbits, the right barrel is for farther away, and you might want that then so that you don't destroy the meat. Even so, this one is a bit much for small game. Show me that it's empty now."

He broke it open and then closed it after she nodded. "Now aim at the can."

The stock was too short for him, so he held it beside him. She could see that it was a mile off, but said nothing for the moment. He looked at her as if he expected some magic from her by the look on his face.

"Is this how you were pointing it when you tried it?"

He nodded, feeling foolish.

She indicated his hand, "Your left hand there on the stock, forget about the gun, just hold it. Point the first or second finger of your left hand right at the can. Hold the gun with the rest. Remember, forget that you're holding the gun, just point your finger."

He tried it, and the muzzles shifted. It was what she'd wanted to see. "Perfect!" She handed him a pair of shells and he loaded both barrels.

"Now," she said, "point your finger at the can again, and when you think that you're ready, pull only one of the triggers gently, not hard, just enough to let off the shot. And never forget to keep pointing at the can with your finger, not the gun."

The shotgun roared and the can flew from them. He was amazed. She told him to walk to the can and shoot it again, remembering the range that she'd said, no more.

The result was the same and the can was destroyed, and she loved the way that he smiled.

"Again, I thank you," he said.

"So you can use it after all?" she asked sweetly.

"Yes," he nodded with a grin. "How?"

"Most people can't hit a barn with a shotgun, but they never miss when they're pointing their finger at something," she smiled. "Now, what were you saying about my dream being wrong?"

He laughed and shook his head in amazement.

It was a bit of a dicey moment for Amy, but she gave in to what she felt and stood up on her toes to kiss his cheek quickly, "I knew you could do it, and I have a lot of things to thank you for as well," she grinned as she looked at her feet, "moccasins that feel like heaven on my feet and a beautiful vest."

They walked back to the porch where he set the gun down and left to return with some leather from the pile that he had inside. Amy sat down and watched how quickly he worked in some surprise.

He looked up from his work, "I want a way to carry it."

He watched her eyes roll for a second, but her smirk replaced it instantly, "You know, this way that you have of reading the thoughts of others could get you into trouble. I hadn't even gotten to ask that question yet."

"I was saving you the breath of the asking," he laughed, "and it has kept me out of trouble far more than it has gotten me into it."

Amy turned away and looked out over the valley and the lengthening shadows that she saw there, trying furiously to change the train of her thoughts while at the same instant, he was trying hard to stop her thoughts from coming to him, as nice as they were to him.

He looked at her and wondered how it was that she could think herself to be unattractive. He thought that she was the most beautiful female that he'd ever seen. He'd never been this close to anyone who had this coloration of red hair and green eyes. He'd never seen freckles up close before, and he found that he liked them.

Another thing that almost made him shake his head was the way that she saw her body. True, she was thin. But he couldn't imagine that on a frame her size... A little imagination on his part and he could see someone like her with a bit more weight to them still looking wonderful, but he liked her best just as she was. She was pretty lithe, but he didn't think she was ... 'bony' was the word that he detected from her mind. To him, 'bony' was an impossibility with regard to her beauty. To him, she was built like an antelope – all long and slender curves with much grace to her movements. He'd ever seen a bony antelope, not a living one, anyway. He looked at her from where he sat and admired the rear profile of her face.

He shook his head to clear it. He'd suddenly wanted to kiss her pretty nose. And that was second only to his rather abrupt need to kiss those lips. Her soft chuckle caused him to look at her grinning back at him.

"See?" she laughed, "You'd better be careful, Stormfeather. You never know what I'm trying to send to you, now that I know how to do it."

He smiled back at her, "You are a very dangerous woman." He developed a worried look for a moment, "More dangerous every minute."

"Thank you for that," she said.

She looked down for a moment, "I don't know what I'd have done without you yesterday. I might have even killed the men by myself, but then again, maybe not. Likely I would have just gotten myself killed instead."

She looked at him and for the twenty-fifth time since she'd awoken, she admired him. She didn't really know what he was, other than her aunt's word for it, and she was hearing his warnings to her. She thought that perhaps she was being foolish to stay here. It might be better for her if she just went to the barn, saddled up her horse and got the hell away from here and him as fast as she could.

But she didn't want to. He might be very different from the men that she'd ever seen and the very few that she'd gotten to know beyond the point of polite hellos and goodbyes, but whatever he really was, she found herself liking him more than enough to want to be close to him.

"Hey, after I shot the men down there in the street, I was going to try for the nearer one who made it onto his horse."

He looked over and nodded, waiting.

"Well," she said, "I was just drawing a bead on him, but before I could get a clear shot, I saw something much darker than you," she pointed to him. "When the dust settled, you were standing up. When you'd dragged him back to put him on the pile, I saw how his throat was ... missing, mostly. Was that you? I mean, was that what you really are? I can't imagine that a man - even one such as you, could do that much damage with his teeth as what I saw had happened to him in such a short time."

He nodded, "That was me."

"Now I wish that I'd had a real chance to get a good look at what you looked like then. All that I saw was a streak. Would I be in any danger if you were to just change right here?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "I was happy that I could help you, Sheena. No, you would not be in danger from me if I changed now. But I do not want to. This has been a strange time for me and for you, my friend. I think you should stay here for the night, unless you want to ride back to the town quickly by yourself as you were thinking. The road will be dark long before you get there."

"I do not think it would be wise to go now. If you stay here inside, I would protect you from anything, the way that I feel. I should not have said that you need to be afraid of me. I wanted to see if you feared me. If you stay, then maybe tomorrow I will be able to let you see what I am. Please try to understand it from my side. I have been alone for so long. Today, I made a friend," he smiled hopefully, "I do not want this feeling to end the same day that it began. I am afraid ..."

She reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder, marveling at how small it made her hand look by comparison, "I don't know for sure, Stormfeather, but between you and me, I have a lot of trouble trying to imagine you being afraid of anything. You think that I won't want you as my friend if I see you like that, is that it?"

He nodded, almost hating himself.

"Well, don't worry," she said, "Remember that I saw you in my dreams like that. I'm still not afraid of my friend, but I'm going to listen to your advice. I'll stay here tonight and I'll lock the door as you told me to. I don't know if I can get to sleep like that, locking out my friend seems strange, but I'm going to try. You're not the only one who can read minds. I already knew that you're uncomfortable with the idea of showing me what you look like. If we're friends, then I want you to know that I accept you the way that you are. I'd like to tell you that you shouldn't feel uncomfortable, alright?"

He nodded, and then wondered about the thoughtful expression which now spread over her features.

"Besides," she mused aloud, "I'm almost beginning to think I ought to stay here with you, though I don't really know why I feel that way, besides liking you an awful lot. I do know that this is about the only place on earth where I feel as though I belong. Without you here, it would be as empty as it was the last time I was here alone. It's a sad feeling to be where you feel as though you belong and it's empty."

She looked at his face, "Yesterday, I think I really should have been scared to death in that situation, but I wasn't, mostly because you were there. When I followed you in the dark, I knew that without you there, I'd never have been able to do that." She smiled a little bit shyly, "but because I was with you, I was only tired, not tired and afraid. Now that you're here with me and not only in my dreams or on paper, I always have that same feeling inside, like I'm finally in the right place. I didn't feel that way when I was here to bury my Pa."

"Maybe it's not this place at all," she spoke more to herself, "maybe I just belong with you. I sure don't feel like I belong in Santa Fe. I always feel as though I'm playing a game when I'm there, as though I'm pretending to be someone that I'm not." She looked at him again, "I sure don't know. I'll have to see." She slid her arm around his neck and hugged him very briefly. He noticed that her arm stayed on him.

"Why do you feel that you might belong here?" he asked, "This is where you grew up. I understand that. You say it is more than that, and that there is something here? This place has magic all around, Sheena. I am trying to think why it makes you feel better to be here."

She leaned against him, "I think it might be both you and this place. My mother told me that this is where my parents, .... "

"Well, not right here," she blushed, "she told me that if they made the slightest sound while my brother slept, he'd wake up and scream that he was afraid and wanted to be with them. He was maybe five when he started that and it lasted for years. So they'd wait until he was asleep for the evening, and they'd lock the house door and go up to the burial ground to fool around for a little while on the soft grass up there because it was so peaceful. My brother never woke up whenever they did that."

She didn't notice that Stormfeather now sat looking straight ahead and listening intently. He didn't dare to move as she spoke.

"In fact," she chuckled softly, "when her time came, she was in labor with me for over two days, and since I seemed to be taking my time, she told me that she went up there to bathe in the clear pool, since my Pa had gone to plow in the fields and he had my brother along with him. He kept coming back to check on her, but she finally told him that it would be a while longer, the way that I was going. But before she got all the way to the pool, she knew that I was about ready to make my appearance, so the grass was where I was born, the same spot where I was made, I guess."