Pilgrimage

'They'll probably have horses to come back on,' I said. 'Don't be too obvious.'
'Okay,' and he ran out the door. We heard the thud of his running feet until he was halfway across the schoolyard, then silence. Faintly, seconds later, creek gravel crunched below the hill. I could only guess at what he was doing-that he couldn't lift all the way and was going in jumps whose length was beyond all reasonable measuring.
The children had gone home, quietly, anxiously. And after the doctor arrived we had improvised a stretcher and carried Abie to the Peterses' home. I walked along close beside him watching his pinched little face, my hand touching his chest occasionally just to be sure he was still breathing.
And now-the waiting…
I looked at my watch again. A minute past the last time I looked. Sixty seconds by the hands, but hours and hours by anxiety.
'He'll be all right,' I whispered, mostly to comfort myself.
'The doctor will know what to do.'
Mr. Diemus turned his dark empty eyes to me. 'Why did you do it?' he asked. 'We almost had it stamped out. We were almost free.'
'Free of what?' I took a deep breath. 'Why did you do it? Why did you deny your children their inheritance?'
'It isn't your concern-'
'Anything that hampers my children is my concern. Anything that turns children into creeping frightened mice is wrong. Maybe I went at the whole deal the wrong way, but you told me to teach them what I had to-and I did.'
'Disobedience, rebellion, flouting authority-'
'They obeyed me,' I retorted. 'They accepted my authority!' Then I softened. 'I can't blame them,' I confessed. 'They were troubled. They told me it was wrong-that they had been taught it was wrong. I argued them into it. But oh, Mr. Diemus! It took so little argument, such a tiny breach in the dam to loose the flood. They never even questioned my knowledge-any more than you have, Mr. Diemus! All this-this wonder was beating against their minds, fighting to be set free. The rebellion was there long before I came. I didn't incite them to something new. I'll bet there's not a one, except maybe Esther, who hasn't practiced and practiced, furtively and ashamed, the things I permitted-demanded that they do for me.
'It wasn't fair-not fair at all-to hold them back.'
'You don't understand.' Mr. Diemus' face was stony. 'You haven't all the facts-'
'I have enough,' I replied. 'So you have a frightened memory of an unfortunate period in your history. But what people doesn't have such a memory in larger or lesser degree? That you and your children have it more vividly should have helped, not hindered. You should have been able to figure out ways of adjusting. But leave that for the moment. Take the other side of the picture. What possible thing could all this suppression and denial yield you more precious than what you gave up?'
'It's the only way,' Mr. Diemus said. 'We are unacceptable to Earth but we have to stay. We have to conform-'
''Of course you had to conform,' I cried. 'Anyone has to when they change societies. At least enough to get them by until others can adjust to them. But to crawl in a hole and pull it in after you! Why, the other Group-'
'Other Group!' Mr. Diemus whitened, his eyes widening.
'Other Group? There are others? There are others?' He leaned tensely forward in his chair. 'Where? Where?' And his voice broke shrilly on the last word. He closed his eyes and his mouth trembled as he fought for control The bedroom door opened. Dr. Curtis came out, his shoulders weary.
He looked from Mr. Diemus to me and back. ''He should be in a hospital. There's a depressed fracture and I don't know what all else. Probably extensive brain involvement. We need X rays and-and-' He rubbed his hand slowly over his weary young face. 'Frankly, I'm not experienced to handle cases like this. We need specialists. If you can scare up some kind of transportation that won't jostle-' He shook his head, seeing the kind of country that lay between us and anyplace, and went back into the bedroom.
'He's dying,' Mr. Diemus said. 'Whether you're right or we're right, he's dying.'
'Wait! Wait!' I said, catching at the tag end of a sudden idea. 'Let me think.' Urgently I willed myself back through the years to the old dorm room. Intently I listened and listened and remembered.
'Have you a-a-Sorter in this Group?' I asked, fumbling for unfamiliar terms.
'No,' said Mr. Diemus. 'One who could have been, but isn't.'
'Or any Communicator? Anyone who can send or receive?'
'No,' Mr. Diemus said, sweat starting on his forehead. 'One who could have been, but-'
'See?' I accused. 'See what you've traded for-for what?
Who are the could-but-can'ts? Who are they?'
'I am,' Mr. Diemus said, the words a bitterness in his mouth. 'And my wife.'
I stared at him, wondering confusedly. How far did training decide? What
could we do with what we had?
'Look,' I said quickly. 'There is another Group. And they-they have all the persuasions and designs. Karen's been trying to find you-to find any of the People. She told me-oh, Lord, it's been years ago, I hope it's still so-every evening they send out calls for the People. If we can catch it-if you can catch the call and answer it they can help.
I know they can. Faster than cars, faster than planes, more surely than specialists-'
'But if the doctor finds out-' Mr. Diemus wavered fearfully.
I stood up abruptly. ''Good night, Mr. Diemus,' I said, turning to the door. 'Let me know when Abie dies.'
His cold hand shook on my arm.
'Can't you see!' he cried. 'I've been taught, too-longer and stronger than the children! We never even dared think of rebellion! Help me, help me!'
'Get your wife,' I said. 'Get her and Abie's mother and father. Bring them down to the grove. We can't do anything here in the house. It's too heavy with denial.'
I hurried on ahead and sank on my knees in the evening shadows among the trees.
'I don't know what I'm doing,' I cried into the bend of my arm. 'I have an idea but I don't know! Help us! Guide us!'
I opened my eyes to the arrival of the four.
'We told him we were going out to pray,' said Mr. Diemus.
And we all did.
Then Mr. Diemus began the call I worded for him, silently, but with such intensity that sweat started again on his face. Karen, Karen, come to the People, come to the People. And the other three sat around him, bolstering his effort, supporting his cry. I watched their tense faces, my own twisting in sympathy, and time was lost as we labored.
Then slowly his breathing calmed and his face relaxed and I felt a stirring as though something brushed past my mind. Mrs. Diemus whispered, 'He remembers now. He's found the way.'
And as the last spark of sun caught mica highlights on the hilltop above us Mr. Diemus stretched his hands out slowly and said with infinite relief, 'There they are.'
I looked around startled, half expecting to see Karen coming through the trees. But Mr. Diemus spoke again.
'Karen, we need help. One of our Group is dying. We have a doctor, an Outsider, but he hasn't the equipment or the know-how to help. What shall we do?''
In the pause that followed I became slowly conscious of a new feeling. I couldn't tell you exactly what it was-a kind of unfolding-an opening-a relaxation. The ugly tight defensiveness that was so characteristic of the grownups of Bendo was slipping away.
''Yes, Valancy,' said Mr. Diemus. 'He's in a bad way. We can't help because-' His voice faltered and his words died. I felt a resurgence of fear and unhappiness as his communication went beyond words and then ebbed back to speech again.
'We'll expect you then. 'You know the way.'