Parable of the Talents

family?'

'They both were—both of my parents.'

'Oh, my. And you were the evidence of their misbehav­ior, the constant reminder. I suppose they couldn't forgive you for that'

She thought about that for a while. 'You're right. People do blame you for the things they do to you. The men who kidnapped me blamed me because they had gone to so much trouble to get me, then there was no ransom. I don't remem­ber how many times they hit me for that—as though it were all my fault.'

'These days, projecting blame is almost an art form.'

'You still haven't told me how you knew.'

'Your body language. Everything about you. If you have a chance to meet others, you'll begin to recognize them. It just takes practice.'

'Some people think sharing is a power—like some kind of extrasensory perception.'

I shrugged. 'You and I know it isn't.'

She began to look a little happier. 'When do we leave?'

'Monday morning just before dawn. Don't say anything about it to anyone.'

'Of course not!'

'Are you all right for supplies?'

In a different tone, she repeated, 'Of course not. But I'll be all right. I can take care of myself.'

'We'll be traveling together for almost a month,' I said. 'The idea is that we should take care of ourselves and of one another. What do you need?'

We sat together quiet for a while, and she wrestled in si­lence with her pride and her temper.

'It's sometimes best to avoid towns,' I said. 'Some towns fear and hate travelers. If they don't arrest them or beat them, they chase them away. Sometimes at the end of the day, there are no towns within reach. And fasting and hiking don't go well together. Now let's go get you some supplies. I assume you stole the things you have now.'

'Thank you,' she said, 'for assuming that.'

I laughed and heard bitterness in my own laughter. 'We do what we have to do to live. But don't steal while you're with me.' I let my voice harden a little. 'And don't steal from me.'

'You'll take my word that I won't?'

'Will you give me your word?'

She looked down her long, thin nose at me. 'You enjoy telling people what to do, don't you?'

I shrugged. 'I like living, and I like being free. And you and I need to be able to trust one another.' I watched her now, needing to see all that there was to be seen.

'I know,' she said. 'It's just that... I've always had things. I used to give clothing, shoes, food, things like that to the families of our servants at Christmas. About five years ago, my mother stopped seeing anyone except mem­bers of the family, and my father got into the habit of leav­ing the house servants to me. Now I'm poorer than our servants were. And, yes, everything I have, I've stolen. I was so idealistic when I was at home. I wouldn't steal any­thing. Now I feel moral because I'm a thief instead of a prostitute.'

'While we're together, you won't be either.'

'... all right.'

And I let myself relax a little. She seemed to mean it. 'Let's go get what you need, then. Come on.'

wednesday, june 13, 2035

We're on our way and we've had no trouble. Len asked me whether I had anything to read when we stopped last night, and I handed her one of my two