The Anything Box

When he lifted his hand for the third time, the Grunder leaped. High abovehim, flailing brilliance against the invisible sky, a dark stain marking itfrom tail to head, the Grunder lifted and lifted as though taking to the air.And then, straightening the bowed brightness of its body, it plunged straightdown into the creek, churning the water to incandescence as it plunged,drenching Crae with sand-shot spray, raising a huge, impossible wave in theshallow creek. The wave poised and fell, flattening Crae, half senseless, intothe mud, his crimson hand dangling over the bank, the slow, red drops fallinginto the quieting water, a big, empty cleanness aching inside him.
Dawn light was just beginning to dissolve the night when he staggered intocamp, tripping over the water buckets as he neared the tent. He stood swayingas the tent flap was flung open hastily. Ellena, haggard, red-eyed and wornplunged out into the early morning cold. She stood and looked at him standingawkwardly, his stiffening, lacerated hands held out, muddy water dripping fromhis every angle. Then she cried out and ran to him, hands outstretched, loveand compassion shining in her eyes.
'Crae! Honey! Where have you been? What happened to you?'
And Crae stained both her shoulders as his hands closed painfully over themas he half whispered, 'I caught him. I caught the Grunder—everything's allright—everything—'
She stroked his tired and swollen face, anxiety in her eyes. 'Oh, Crae—Inearly went crazy with fear. I thought—' she shook her head and tears ofgladness formed in her eyes '—but you're safe. That's all that matters. Crae—'
He buried his face in the softness of her hair. He felt sure. For the first time he felt really sure. 'Yes, dear?'
'Crae—about what I said—I'm sorry—I didn't mean it, oh, I couldn't livewithout you—'
Gladness swelled within him. He pushed her gently from him and looked intoher tear-streaked face. 'Ellena —let's go home—'
She nodded, smiling. 'All right, Crae, we’ll go home— But first we’ll havea good breakfast.'
He laughed, a healthy, hearty laugh. 'We’ll do even better than that! We’llstop by at the camp of our four visitors. They owe us both a good meal for thedrinks!'
Her eyes glowed at his words. 'Oh, Crae—you really mean it? You're not—'
He shook his head. 'Never again, honey. Never.'
The porch of the Murmuring Pines Store and Station was empty as Craestopped the car there at noon. Crae turned to Ellena with a grin. 'Be back ina minute, honey, gotta see a man about a fish.'
Crae left the car, walked up the steps and pushed open the screen door. Askinny, teen-age girl in faded Levis put down her comic book and got off ahigh stool behind a counter. 'Help you, mister?'
'I'm looking for Eli,' he said. 'The old feller that was out on the porchabout two weeks ago when I stopped by here. Old Eli, he called himself.'
'Oh, Eli,' said the girl. 'He's off again.'
'Off? He's gone away?' asked Crae.
'Well, yes, but that isn't what I meant exactly,' said the girl. 'You see,Eli is kinda touched. Ever once in a while he goes clear off his rocker. Youmusta talked to him when this last spell was starting to work on him. Theytook him back to State Hospital a coupla days later. Something you wanted?'
'He told me about a fish,' said Crae tentatively.
'Hoh!' the girl laughed shortly, 'The Grunder. Yeah. That's one way we cantell he's getting bad again. He starts on that Grunder stuff.'
Crae felt as though he'd taken a step that wasn't there. 'Where'd he getthe story?'
'Well, I don't know what story he told you,' said the girl. 'No tellingwhere he got the Grunder idea, though. He's had it ever since I can remember.
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It's only when he gets to believing it that we know it's time to start
watching him. If he didn't believe—'
If he didn't believe. Crae turned to the door. 'Well, thanks,' he said, 'I
hope he gets well soon.' The screen door slammed shut behind him. He didn't
hear it. He was hearing the sound of water smashing over rocks, surging
against the creek banks. Then the sound faded, and the sun was bright around
him.
'Crae! Is everything all right?'
It was Ellena calling to him from the car. He took a deep breath of the
clean, crisp air. Then he waved to her. 'Everything's fine!' he called, and in
two steps, cleared the porch and was on his way to the car.
Things
Viat came back from the camp of the Strangers, his crest shorn, the devi
ripped from his jacket, his mouth slack and drooling and his eyes empty. He
sat for a day in the sun of the coveti center, not even noticing when the
eager children gathered and asked questions in their piping little voices.
When the evening shadow touched him, Viat staggered to his feet and took two
steps and was dead.
The mother came then, since the body was from her and could never be alien,
and since the emptiness that was not Viat had flown from his eyes. She signed
him dead by pinning on his torn jacket the kiom—the kiom she had fashioned the
day he was born, since to be born is to begin to die. He had not yet given his
heart, so the kiom was still hers to bestow. She left the pelu softly alight
in the middle of the kiom because Viat had died beloved. He who dies beloved
walks straight and strong on the path to the Hidden Ones by the light of the
pelu. Be the pelu removed, he must wander forever, groping in the darkness of
the unlighted kiom.
So she pinned the kiom and wailed him dead.
There was a gathering together after Viat was given back to the earth.
Backs were bent against the sun, and the coveti thought together for a
morning. When the sun pointed itself into their eyes, they shaded them with
their open palms and spoke together.
'The Strangers have wrought an evil thing with us.' Dobi patted the dust
before him. 'Because of them, Viat is not. He came not back from the camp.
Only his body came, breathing until it knew he would not return to it.'
'And yet, it may be that the Strangers are not evil. They came to us in
peace. Even, they brought their craft down on barrenness instead of scorching
our fields.' Deci's eyes were eager on the sky. His blood was hot with the
wonder of a craft dropping out of the clouds, bearing strangers. 'Perhaps
there was no need for us to move the coveti.'
'True, true,' nodded Dobi. 'They may not be of themselves evil, but it may
be that the breath of them is death to us, or perhaps the falling of their
shadows or the silent things that walk invisible from their friendly hands. It
is best that we go not to the camp again. Neither should we permit them to
find the coveti.'
'Cry them not forbidden, yet!' cried Deci, his crest rippling. 'We know
them not. To taboo them now would not be fair. They may come bearing gifts
…'
'For gifts given, something always is taken. We have no wish to exchange
our young men for a look at the Strangers.' Dobi furrowed the dust with his
fingers and smoothed away the furrows as Viat had been smoothed away.
'And yet,' Veti's soft voice came clearly as her blue crest caught the