Here We Come A-Wandering - Nina Kiriki Hoffman, ebook
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NINA KIRIKI HOFFMANHERE WE COME A-WANDERINGMatt met the moss man on Christmas Eve.She was sitting on a stone bench in a pioneer cemetery, a wall of ivy-coveredbrick at her back, and a brown paper bag full of past-their-expiration-datecellophane-wrapped sandwiches beside her. The short cool daylight was fading,mist breeding in the low spots and spreading. The damp in the air smelled likewinter, dead leaves, iced water, chill and no comfort. Matt was glad of herthick olive-drab army jacket.She liked the look of the old mossy gravestones, some tilted and some broken,but all mute against the wet grass and vanishing distance. The people who hadcome here to commune with the dead had all died, too; no fresh dreams troubledthe stillness. This was as close to nature as she liked to get, a tamedwilderness only a short walk away from a town where she could go to find warmthand comfort after she had had her supper.She unwrapped one of the sandwiches and sniffed it. Roast beef and yellowcheese. It smelled fine. She took a sample bite, waited to see if her stomachwould tell her anything, and then ate the rest of the sandwich. The bread wasdry and the edges of the cheese hard, but it was better than a lot of otherthings she had eaten.Her stomach thanked her. She opened another sandwich, ham and swiss, tested it,and ate it.She was sitting and feeling her own comfort when she noticed there was somedreaming going on to her left, a quiet swirl of leafy images emerging from thelayers-thick ivy on the wall. She wondered if she were seeing the dream of aplant. She had never seen a plant dream before. This seemed like a strange timeto start seeing them. She turned to get a better look at the dream, and itchanged. The leaves wove together into green skin, the skin smoothed and formeda man, and then a man all green stepped away from the wall, shaking his headslowly.Some texture in the sound and smell of him told her he was no dream at all.Matt grabbed the loose cellophane on the bench beside her and asked it if itwould cover the man's face if she threw it. It said yes. If he came at her . . .she touched the bench she was sitting on. It was too old and sleepy to mobilize.She put her feet on the ground and tensed to run.The man blinked. His face looked like a mannequin's, no real expression, nomovement of the tiny muscles, a polished and unreal perfection to the features.He turned and stared at her."Who are you?" she asked after the silence had stretched."Edmund," he said."What do you want?""Nothing," he said."Nothing? Why'd you move if you don't want anything? You could have just stayedin the wall." She had never met anybody who wanted nothing. She wondered if hewere lying."It was time to move," he said. Something was happening to his skin in thewaning light, the green fading, leaving tan behind. His clothes and curly hairstayed green. She hadn't noticed the clothes until the rest of him changed.T-shirt, pants -- green, mossy even; bare arms and face, hands and feet. And itwas freezing, but he didn't look as though he felt the cold."Want a sandwich?" she said.He stretched and yawned. He came closer. She had thought his expression waswooden, but now she saw it was more like ice, frozen . . . though thaw wascoming. He blinked. He finally smiled. It changed her image of him completely:he looked friendly and almost goofy.Still gripping the cellophane just in case, she scooted over, leaving room onthe bench. He sat down.She peered into the brown paper bag. "Looks like I got a tuna and aham-and-cheese left. The tuna might be bad. Fish goes bad faster than curedmeat.""I'll try the ham-and-cheese," he said. "Thanks."She gave him the sandwich. He struggled with the cellophane for a minute. Shegrabbed it back and unwrapped it for him. "How long you been part of a wall,anyway?""I don't know," he said. "I wonder if my car will run." He bit the sandwich andchewed, abstracted, as though he were listening to his mouth. "Hmm.""It's Christmas Eve," Matt said when he had finished the sandwich and satwatching her, smiling faintly."Huh," he said. "Been a wall a couple months then, I guess. I'm not sure."She peeked at his mental landscape. A forest clearing, with a single tree risingfrom the center, sunlight stroking one side of its trunk. Wind blew and the treeleaned into it as though its bark were skin, its core supple.Not threatening, but not clear, either. "What were you doing in the wall?""Standing still.""How come?""That's how the spirit moved me.""Huh?"He shrugged. "I just wander around until something tells me to act. I happenedto stop here a while back, and the wall spoke to me."Matt felt a stir inside. She had been talking with human-made things for years.She'd never met someone else who talked with them."What did it say?""'Come here.'"She glanced back at the wall under its cloak of ivy. --Did you say "come here"to this guy?-- she asked it.--Yes,-- said the wall.--Why?----I wanted him.--Nothing ever seemed to want Matt, though lots of things enjoyed meeting her, andmost of them were nice to her. --Why?----He's a certain kind of brick. He's hot. He makes everything fit better.--Mattlooked at Edmund. His eyebrows were up."You're a brick?" she said."A brick," he repeated, with a question in it."Wall says you're a brick. A hot brick.""What?" He glanced at the wall. He reached out and placed his palm flat againstit.Seemed like he hadn't heard her conversation, then. Matt felt better. She hadbeen talking to everything for a long time without other human beings hearingher. She wasn't sure how she would feel about being overheard.His arm stained brick red.--What's he doing?-- Matt asked the wall.--Connecting,-- the wall said. --Are you talking to me?-- Its voice had changedslightly.--Am I?-- Matt looked at Edmund. His mouth opened slightly, and his eyebrowsstayed up.--Yes, -- said the wall. "Yes," said Edmund.Matt swallowed. --This is so strange.--Yes.-Slowly he pulled his hand away from the wall. His skin faded to tan again.He held his hand out to Matt. She stared at it without touching it."What do you want?" he asked her. "What do you need?""Me? I don't need anything," she said."I'm here for you.""What?"He dropped his hand to his thigh. "I follow as the spirit leads me," he said."It led me to you. Let me know when you figure out what you want.""I take care of myself," she said."Yes," he said."I don't need anything else.""All right.""What do you want?" she asked him again.He smiled wide. "Nothing," he said again. "Guess that makes us a match.""I don't turn into a brick," said Matt, unnerved. She hadn't realized until thismoment how much she valued being different and special, even if no one else knewjust how special. She knew, and that had been enough, until now. She didn't wantthis man to be anything like her.He said, "Would you like to be a brick? I like it. It's nice being a part ofsomething so solid.""No." Matt shook her head. "No, no.""Okay," he said. He pulled his legs up, bent knees against his chest, andgripped his feet.She watched him for a while. His feet and hands started to gray to match thestone bench, and then the dark was too heavy for her to make out details."Uh," she said. "I'm going back to town now. Nice meeting you.""I'll come with you.""I'd rather you didn't.""Oh. All right. Thanks for the sandwich.""You're welcome." She stood and walked away quickly, chasing mist whenever shecould.She found a newspaper in a phone booth and scanned the page of church services,then picked an early one to go to. She liked churches on Christmas Eve, thepageantry, the carols, the candles and greenery, the warmth, the smells of hotwax and pine and incense and perfume and even mothballs from some of the fancyclothes people wore. She liked the idea that a kid born in a cave could beimportant.She settled in a back pew and watched everything with interest. Children thoughtabout presents, those opened and those still waiting, full of promises. Some ofthe grown-ups did too. Some people were thinking about the service, and somewere thinking about going to sleep. Some were remembering their dinners. Somewere worried because they hadn't finished wrapping things or they hadn't foundthe right presents, and others were happy because they had done what they could.A woman in front of Matt kept thinking about washing a mountain of dishes. Shewould sigh, and start the task in her mind again, go through it dish by dish,each spoon and fork and knife, and sigh, and start again. Matt tuned her out andfocused on a child who was watching the candles and listening to the singing andthinking about the words of the songs and making the flames go in and out offocus, flames, flat disks of light, flames. A child in another place looked atevery scrap of red clothing, hoping to glimpse Santa Claus. A man cradled asleeping child. When he looked down at her he saw his arms full of golden light.Another child looked at the priest and saw angels behind him. Matt wondered ifmaybe the angels were really there. They had beautiful smiles and kind eyes.The church was full. It lived and breathed, a big organism full of differentcells and tissues, everything cooperating.Matt kept an eye out for the moss man. What did he want from her? He wasn't anormal human. She couldn't guess which way he'd jump.She didn't see him again until she left the church. She ...
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