Green Comet

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

Tallgrass does get to drive a truck. And he meets a day runner.

We’re about halfway through now. Please join us in the comments. And subscribe so you don’t miss anything.

rjb

Chapter Twenty-Six – The Picnic

They let Tallgrass drive the truck after they’d been on the road for a while. He watched Street drive for the first few kilometers, so he could see what he was supposed to do, then they let him take over. They were still on the hard, stony part of the road, so it was smooth going. The road was nice and wide, and Street kept the speed down, so all the weaving back and forth wasn’t a problem.

“You’re overcorrecting a little, Tallgrass,” said Street as he put his hand on the steering wheel to show him. “The trick is to let the truck do most of the steering itself while you just do little corrections. See?” He took his hand off the wheel and the weaving started up again, only much reduced. “There,” he said, “better already. It’s not as easy as it looks, is it?”

“No,” said Tallgrass, the tip of his tongue showing in the corner of his mouth, and his rigid arms jerking the wheel back and forth.

“Once you’ve been doing it for a while, most of it becomes automatic,” said Street. “You get so you make all the little corrections without even realizing it.” He helped get the truck on track, then helped keep it there while Tallgrass got a sense of it. This time when he let go, the weaving was almost gone, so he let the boy drive on his own for a few kilometers.

They were in one of the bigger trucks of its class. There was plenty of room on its open deck for their gear and all five of them. Tiny was along for that extra bit of protection just in case, and he was trying in his inarticulate way to apologize to Sage. Digger had turned discreetly away, hanging his head over the rail and watching the scenery go by.

Tiny was saying, “I’m really sorry, Missus.” His face was bunched up in concerned wrinkles. “About before, I mean.” He waved a big arm in the direction of their destination. “When we met before.” His shoulders slumped as he sensed he was failing to make himself understood.

Sage smiled gently. “Did Street put you up to this?” she asked.

“No Missus!” he said, his face now in earnest wrinkles. “Well, after we met the first time,” his big arm swung again, “he did lay into me a bit.” His gaze went back. “Quite a bit. But he didn’t say anything today, Missus. It’s me. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I was stupid and I wanted to tell you how sorry I am.”

Her smile was for pleasure now. He was making an important gesture, and it made her want to do the same. She said, “Thank you, Tiny, but it wasn’t all your fault. I didn’t have to react the way I did.” She held up a hand to stop his protests. “Nothing would have happened if I had just taken what you said in a better humor.” She held out her hand, and as he looked at it she said, “I accept your apology and I hope you will accept mine.”

His face showed that he didn’t believe he deserved it, but he took her hand and accepted her apology anyway, so as not to insult her. “Yes Missus,” he said.

“And you don’t need to call me Missus,” she said. “You can call me Sage.” When she saw how uncomfortable that made him, she said, “Or Miss Sage, if you prefer.”

Relief lit up Tiny’s face. “Yes Missus,” he began, and covered quickly with, “Miss Sage.” After a while he remembered to let go of her hand, lost as it was in his big, meaty one.

There was a small jolt as the truck left the smooth surface for the packed dirt. As the steering wheel started to dance in Tallgrass’s hands, Street took over, but not before telling the boy what a good job he’d done. As he pushed the speed back up, his apprentice turned to his mother and said, “Did you see, Mom? I was driving.” As he walked proudly back to her, he said, “I’m going to be a good driver when I grow up.” He looked back at Street. “Aren’t I, Street? You said I did a good job, didn’t you?”

“Darn good job,” said Street, glancing over his shoulder. “The boy’s a natural.”

When her son turned his bright face back to her, she said, “Yes, I watched you. You looked really grown up there.”

“Uncle Digger, did you see? Did you see me driving?”

Digger brought his head in and leaned on the rail. “I sure did,” he said, “but you were driving so well that I just relaxed and watched the scenery go by.”

Tallgrass looked like he might burst, and if he’d been out on the grass instead of in a truck, he might have run around a bit.

When they pulled up at the hut, Tallgrass jumped down from the truck so quickly that no one could stop him. Sage called out to him while she and Digger jumped down, followed quickly by Tiny, who left the truck rocking. Street was right behind them after he hastily parked and secured the truck.

Tallgrass had the hut door open and was inside before anyone caught up to him. Digger had a quick look around for dangers while Sage went to her son. She said, “Don’t ever do that! Don’t you ever run off on your own like that.”

The delight of discovery vanishing from his face, Tallgrass said, “But you said it was safe. In your stories you said that the hut was the first place you felt safe since you left the village.” His expression was ready to collapse into tears.

As Tiny loomed in the doorway, blocking most of their light, Sage said, “Okay, you’re right. I did.” She patted his neck. “You didn’t do anything wrong, but don’t do it again, okay? Being out here has brought it all back for me, and it makes me scared for you. Do you understand?”

He might not have understood all the nuances of it, but he did see that she was scared, and that scared him. He knew how he could make her feel better, and himself too. He said, “Yes, Mom. I understand.”

She smiled her gratitude and kissed him. Digger patted him on the shoulder and said, “Good lad.” Tiny finally noticed Street trying to see around him and moved, letting a little more light into the hut. Sage looked around, memories popping up at every turn, and said, “Let’s bring in the provisions, then.”

They made a few trips back and forth, Tallgrass struggling stoically with his loads, and Sage directing where everything should go. As she hung up the last towel – you can never have too many towels, she’d said as they packed – she said, “Good. I think that’s got it. Now up the hill for the picnic.”

“Oh boy!” said Tallgrass as he ran out the door. He ran back in saying, “Your necklace. You have to get your necklace.” Then he ran out to the truck to get it. As he labored back with the bag, he was saying, “And your spear. Your spear.”

They got her decked out, loaded Tiny up with the picnic supplies, and began the trek up the sloping path. Tallgrass led the way, with Digger alert at his side. Tiny followed with Sage’s panniers, adjusted for his girth, hanging at his sides. Street walked with Sage at the rear. He said, “Seeing you like that brings back memories.”

“For me too,” she said. “A lot of them.”

“That was quite a sight to see,” he said. “Coming to the top here and seeing a wild girl yelling at a day runner.”

She had to laugh. She rattled her spear and laughed again. “I was so sick of eating them,” she said.

“I can imagine,” he said. After a moment’s silence he said, “I looked into it. The Moonshadow thing.”

“Oh yes?”

“Yes. I asked around and there are stories of a group of traders taking a girl from her village.”

“Kidnapping?”

“No. The girl apparently wanted to go. She was bored with village life, or something.” Street’s jaw bulged, and he gritted out, “They took her all right, but it wasn’t …”

“They abused her,” guessed Sage.

“Yes,” said Street. His nostrils flared as he breathed deeply. “They kept her all the way to the city, where they abandoned her. She was lucky Digger found her almost right away, or she would have been easy prey.”

Sage felt short of breath and she noticed her hands were shaking. Anger almost took her voice, but she managed to say, “Where are they now?”

“I know how to find them,” he said. “Tiny and I are going to have a talk with them when we get back.”

“A talk? Then what?”

“That will depend on how the talk goes.” He had a look in his predator eyes that she hadn’t seen before. It chilled her. “However it goes, they won’t be doing it again. Tiny doesn’t like people who pick on the helpless ones. And I don’t like people who give traders a bad name.”

Sage decided she didn’t have to hear any more. She would be able to tell Moonshadow that her abusers were punished and wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else. It wouldn’t make it all right, but it would have to do.

They crested the hill and Tallgrass had stopped, his head thrown back as he looked at the sentinel tree. Digger was at his side scanning for danger. Tiny pulled up on his other side and began to remove the panniers. Street and Sage stepped up to give him a hand.

Putting her pannier down, Sage asked Tallgrass, “Well, what do you think?”

He looked at her, then back at the tree. “It’s bigger than you said,” he said. “Way bigger.”

“Uh-huh,” she said. “And what do you think of the grass?”

He looked down and ventured out into it. “It’s brown. And long.” He trotted this way and that, getting a feel for it. Digger stayed close and Tiny went to post himself between the boy and the tree.

“You have a good run,” she said, “but stay close. And listen to Uncle Digger and Tiny. Street and I are going to set up the picnic.”

Tallgrass didn’t need to be told twice. He took off through the grass at a full gallop, with Digger trotting along beside him and Tiny moving to stay between them and the tree. Tallgrass could feel that the ground was a little harder and drier than it was back at the university, and the grass was crisper as well as taller. While he ran he could feel it brushing his legs and his ribs, and he could hear it swishing and crunching.

He turned sharply and swung back the other way, making Digger laugh as he tried to keep up. He ended up running a route that closely matched the one he did back home. Digger adjusted his route to stay on the side opposite the tree, and Tiny just moved back and forth guarding that side. Tallgrass felt safe, but he also felt a thrill of the unknown. This was where his mother had faced dangers, and he kept his eyes open, hoping to see a day runner or a day flier.

After a few circuits he heard Tiny call out in a quiet but firm voice, “Day runner.”

Tallgrass stopped dead and stared. He felt Digger move in close, and he took a step forward to keep his view. On the other side of Tiny, coming out from under the branches, was a scary looking animal. He could see the power in its six legs, and the muscles bunching under its gleaming scales, but it was the head and its huge mouth full of teeth that held his eye. He shivered as a primal fear washed through him. It was staring at him with all four of its eyes.

He saw that Digger had his knife in his hand beside him, and Tiny had his out too, as he warily faced the animal. Then he heard a rattle as his mother trotted forward. She went straight at the day runner, shaking her spear in front of her. It stared at her, uncertain, then it turned and scuttled back into the shadows.

Sage turned and trotted over to him, lifting her spear as she came. Under her gentle mother look, he saw a ferocity he had never seen before. He knew it was to protect him, and he had never felt so proud in his life.

They had their picnic then, standing around a portable table. Tallgrass had his date bars, then he had another run. He went up the little incline to have a closer look at the tree, his mother on one side, her spear point in front, and Digger on the other, his knife in his hand. Once he was satisfied with that, they went back down to the hut and the truck.

Tallgrass had a day he would never forget and, with visions of his mother and the day runner in his mind, he dropped off to sleep on the deck of the truck as it jostled over the dirt road.

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

Tallgrass gets to know Street and might get to drive a truck.

Still not getting enough feedback. Please let me know in the comments whether you’re enjoying it. And subscribe so you don’t miss anything.

rjb

Chapter Twenty-Five – The Penthouse

The Professor was back in his lab and the rest of them were walking around the rectangle toward the gate. Tallgrass was going the long way too, only on the grass. Sage said to the men, “Why don’t the two of you come over for a cup of tea? We can get caught up.”

“Yeah!” said Tallgrass.

Digger looked at Street, who shrugged. “You don’t have to be anywhere, Street?” he said. “No plans? Nobody you need to meet?”

“No,” said Street. “All my accounts are up to date. The crew is, uh, occupied with the things they do when we get back.” He glanced at Tallgrass, then looked at Sage to be sure he hadn’t offended. When she nodded he finished, “And I always set aside a little time at the end of a trip for myself. Nothing to do but rest and re-adjust to city life.”

“That’s wise,” Sage said. “As I recall, it does take some adjusting.”

“Nowhere near what it must have been like for you,” said Street, “but I find I still need to do it. I get used to it out there. The quiet. The simplicity. Everything is so straightforward. You do what you have to to survive, and that’s all it asks of you.” He looked around, then at them again. “But mostly the people. Honest. They say what they mean, and they go by their word.” He looked at Tallgrass and winked. “And everybody is allowed on the grass.”

Tallgrass gaped and looked at his mother. “Can we go there some day?” he asked.

She smiled at him and said, “I think we should, some day. The trouble is, it’s a month of walking each way, and there are too many things out there that would love to eat a little thing like you.”

“But you’d protect me,” he said. “You could bring your spear and your necklace.” He looked at Street. “And we could go with them, couldn’t we? The traders? Then we’d all be safe.” He nodded his head, all settled.

Street said, “For sure. You can come with us any time.” He grinned at Sage.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but with a smile crinkling their corners, and said to Tallgrass, “That sounds good, but there’s still the matter of the time. I can’t just take two months off whenever I want. And there’s your education to think of.”

“We could take a truck,” he said, referring to one of the wagons that pulled themselves. “That would be faster.” His eyes flashed. “Or an airplane. That would be really fast.”

They were going to arrive at the gate soon, so Sage said, “Airplanes don’t go that way, and there’s no place for them to land out there, anyway.” As his face fell, she carried on, “But you’ve given me an idea.” His face rose again. “I don’t see why we can’t take a truck part way. It wouldn’t make it all the way to the village, but it could take us to the hut.” She looked at Street.

“Sure,” he said, setting Tallgrass to bouncing. “That’s how we replenish its supplies anyway. By the way, Sage, you didn’t make very good use of the supplies when you were there.”

“They weren’t mine,” she said, “and I didn’t have anything worth trading.” Not looking at them, she said, “And I did take something. I ate some of the dried fruit. But I left my torch and its fuel. I thought that might be enough.”

“I noticed,” said Street, “and it was more than enough. You should have taken more. That’s what it’s there for.”

“Okay,” she said. “Next time. In the meantime, do you think we could take a truck out there? Maybe take a picnic up onto the prairie by the sentinel tree. Tallgrass could have a run in some real grass, and we could watch out for him.”

Tallgrass was really bouncing now, his eyes on Street, who said, “Sure, I don’t see why not. Some time in the next week?”

Now Tallgrass was still, hardly breathing as he watched his mother, who said, “That sounds good. Let’s make plans over tea,“ then watched her son caper for joy.

Sage and Tallgrass lived in a place with a view. The big window looked out over the harbor, where they could watch the ships come and go. The airport was also close to the water, so they could see the airplanes on approach and departure. When they came in, Tallgrass went to his room to change blankets, and Sage went to the kitchen, but their two guests went straight to the window.

The city was laid out below them. From Sage’s penthouse you could see it all, from the nearby towers, through the neat neighborhoods surrounding them, all the way down to the waterfront. Digger had been here before, of course, not only as he brought Sage her refugees, but also as a friend. He often brought Skylight and Fisher along for the evening. Their son, Star, had taken to Tallgrass like a big brother. So Digger was familiar with the view, but it was new to Street and he was quiet while he tried to take it all in.

That’s where Sage found them when she came back from the kitchen. Tallgrass was standing between them, his house blanket on, but askew. Straightening it, Sage said, “Moonshadow will be out with the tea shortly.”

Digger turned from the window and asked, “How is she working out? Is she settling in okay?”

Sage nodded. “I think she’s going to be all right. She’s certainly a good worker. But I think it’s a good thing you found her when you did. She’s a sensitive girl.”

“I know,” said Digger. “It was really hard to get through to her when I found her. She was afraid of everything and wouldn’t talk to anyone. It was all I could do to get her here.” He glanced toward the kitchen. “Has she told you anything?”

“Not really,” said Sage. “There’s something there all right. Something bad. But I told her she doesn’t have to talk about it. If she wants to some day, that’s up to her. Meanwhile, she knows she’s somewhere safe.”

Digger nodded. “I think that’s best. I’m curious, of course, but it’s her story and she can decide if she wants to tell it.”

At that moment Moonshadow came in carrying a tray. Her hesitation when she saw a stranger, Street, was almost imperceptible. She set it down on a tall table in the middle of the room, then turned to face Sage.

Sage said, “Thank you, Moonshadow. We won’t need anything else for now, but let me introduce Street. He’s a trader and a good friend. You can trust him.”

She flinched very slightly at the word “trader,” but she managed a smile. “Pleased to meet you, sir,” she said.

“And you, Moonshadow,” he said. “But you don’t need to call me sir. I’m just a common trader.” The flinch this time was almost invisible, but he caught it.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, and at Sage’s nod she left the room.

The three adults exchanged a look. They had all seen her reaction, and they all guessed that her trauma had something to do with traders. But before they could talk about it, Tallgrass turned away from the window and said, “Can we go on the picnic tomorrow? Can we?”

The grownups laughed as the tension disappeared. Sage said, “Not tomorrow, Tally. We need at least a day to prepare, so it will be the next day at the earliest.”

Tallgrass sagged only a little and not for long. “What are we going to take? What kind of truck? Can I drive it? I like date bars. Can we take date bars?”

Digger and Street were grinning at Sage as she endeavored to answer her son’s questions. “We can certainly take date bars. And I might let you steer the truck for a little while, as long as it’s safe. As for your other questions, that’s what we have to figure out today.” She walked to the table. “Tea everyone?” she said as she began to pour.

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

Tallgrass gets to run on the grass.

Still not getting enough feedback. Please let me know in the comments whether you’re enjoying it. And subscribe so you don’t miss anything.

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Chapter Twenty-Four – Tallgrass

Sage and Professor Tailor were watching Tallgrass romp on the grass. He was running full tilt from one end of the rectangle to the other, his little body stretching, and his face lit by an ecstatic grin. Also watching were two members of the custodial staff, the same two who had brought Sage’s chest of drawers six years earlier. They’d come out of their office down at the end and were standing with their arms crossed, but with indulgent smiles.

Tallgrass had a special dispensation to be on the grass, even though he was not a professor or anyone else important enough to be allowed. Part of the reason was who his mother was, and part was the Professor’s influence, but mostly it was because he was so cute and so full of life that people just loved to see him enjoying himself. Not everyone. There were some who thought a Plainsrunner’s offspring had no business inside the gates, much less on the grass, but they were outvoted. Besides, as the maintenance staff said, he was too small and too light to do any real damage. Not yet, anyway. Sage smiled as she remembered him coming off the grass one day when it was time to go. He was panting and bursting with energy when he said, “I hope I stay small forever.”

The Professor’s eyes followed the boy as he said, “He’s growing up quickly, isn’t he? It seems like no time at all since you first arrived.”

“Yes,” said Sage, “and no.” When he raised his eyebrows at her she said, “So much has happened that it feels like it must be longer, and yet the time has flown by.”

“Yes,” said the Professor. “You have had a very full few years, haven’t you? From country girl to celebrity astronomer.”

She frowned at him. “Celebrity astronomer,” she muttered.

“Well, that’s what they’re calling you. I saw it on the news this morning. They called you author, screenwriter, celebrity astronomer and day flier killer.” He smiled at her frown.

“Oh, my ancestors,” she said. “Will I never live that down?”

“I don’t know why you would want to,” he said. “Your fame is what has allowed you to do the things you want to do.”

She nodded, grudgingly acknowledging that. “To think,” she said, “that all I wanted to do when I first came here was to learn. And it’s been a constant torrent of learning ever since.”

He nodded. “I remember that girl. I thought I was going to buy the artifact from you, and that would be it, but you ended up taking over completely.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” she said. “I remember it as running as fast as I could just to survive. I grabbed every advantage I could because I needed every one I could get.” She looked at him. “I’m sorry if it seemed as if I was using you.”

Tallgrass went tearing by in the other direction, grinning at them as he passed. They waved at him and the Professor said, “Not at all. This has been the best time of my life. My career has never been so fulfilling.”

“It’s been the same for me,” said Sage. “I’ve gone from being a hopeless exile to, well, a celebrity astronomer.” They laughed together, then she said, “I wanted to learn, but the amount and the pace of learning almost overwhelmed me.”

“Well,” he said, “your life completely changed. You had to re-learn almost everything.”

“Yes,” she said. “Up on the prairie we had no electricity. We walked everywhere we went. Messages had to be carried from village to village. The traders were one of our main means of communication, but they never told us about any of your new technology.”

“No,” he said. “They knew it was taboo for you people. They never took so much as a flashlight with them.”

“Right,” she said. “Then I come here and I learn about electricity and flashlights. Then about wagons that pull themselves.” She widened her eyes at him. “Then the ships that sail out on the ocean. And airplanes. Airplanes that are much bigger than day fliers and that fly much higher even than them.”

He nodded. “It must have completely overturned everything you thought you knew about the world.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “But it never overwhelmed you. You took it in and you adjusted, and you came out stronger for the new knowledge.”

“I’m glad it looked that way, but the truth is I felt like I was faking it most of the time.”

He chuckled. “If that’s true then you’re a champion faker. You had me fooled, and you’ve certainly impressed a lot of people in the process.”

“Then people are easily impressed,” she said. “Celebrity astronomer, indeed.” Quietly, she added, “The thing that almost sent me running was radio. I grew up thinking it was the ultimate evil, and when I learned that you city people were using it …”

Tallgrass went by the other way, but he was slowing down and his grin was a little more labored. They waved and the Professor said, “What made you stay?”

She thought about it as they watched the little runner, then said, “A combination of things. I had nowhere to go. I’d been discovering that our myths and legends were a little simplistic when faced with the reality. And I really wanted to learn. Especially about the gliders.”

“And you liked being a celebrity astronomer?”

“You be quiet,” she said. “I was nowhere near that when I learned about radio.”

They smiled together as they watched Tallgrass trotting back to them. In a quiet voice, he ventured, “Are you never going to tell me who the father is?”

Still looking at her son, she said, “I think you know who his father is, Professor.”

“Do you mean …” he stammered. “Am I the one?”

She looked sideways at him and nodded.

“But why didn’t you say? I should have known. I could have … done something. I could have helped.”

Tallgrass was close then and she only had time to say, “I didn’t need any help,” before he was there, basking in their praise and their love.

They saw the groundskeepers walk out to inspect the grass, paying close attention to where Tallgrass had made his turns. The boy’s eyes were wide with anxiety during the inspection, and when they waved and gave the high sign he capered in a circle of joy. He’d be allowed to play on the grass at least one more time.

The Professor took the opportunity to say, “I know you didn’t need me Sage, but I would have liked to have helped anyway.”

“I know,” she said, “but it was something I had to …”

They were interrupted by sound and motion at the gate on the opposite side of the grass. Tallgrass looked and called out, “Uncle Digger,” and began running. He slowed down when he saw that there was someone with him, but when Digger called his name and held out his arms, he sped up again.

While they watched the reunion, the Professor said, “Who is that with him?”

“I don’t know,” said Sage, “but something about him seems familiar.”

They watched as the pair walked down, then across the end, and then back up their side, Tallgrass repeatedly trotting ahead and back to them. When they finally got close enough, Sage gasped and said, “Street?”

Digger called out, “Look who I’ve brought to see you, Sage.”

When they got there Sage gave Digger a hug, then offered her hand to Street. “It’s nice to see you again, Street. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Digger said, “He was asking after you. We usually get together when he gets back from a trading expedition, and he wanted to know how you were doing. So I told him to come and find out for himself.”

She turned to Street and asked, “And why did it take you so long to get around to it?”

His handsome face was abashed and he turned his eyes to the ground. “You didn’t look like you needed me horning in. You were doing fine and I didn’t want to spoil it for you.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I looked up to you,” she said sternly. “I used your strength and bravery as an example to get me through the hard times.” She was frowning at him when the Professor discreetly cleared his throat. “Oh yes,” she said. “Where are my manners? Professor, this is Street. You might remember me talking about him. Street, this is Professor Tailor. We work together. And you’ve already met my son, Tallgrass.”

They shook hands and the Professor said, “You needn’t have worried about Sage. I don’t believe you could have spoiled it for her if you tried.”

Digger laughed out loud and Street smiled, remembering the girl he met by the sentinel tree. His smile broadened when he recalled how she talked to Tiny. “No, I think you’re right, Professor,” he said. “I guess I should have known, eh? After all, I did meet her that once.”

All three men laughed, while Sage frowned. Tallgrass looked anxiously back and forth, then he began to frown too. He had no idea what was going on, but it looked as if his mother didn’t like it, and if she didn’t like it, then neither did he. He was getting set to do something when Sage noticed.

“It’s okay, Tally,” she said. “It’s friendly laughter.”

Tallgrass looked at the Professor, who nodded and smiled. He looked at Digger, who did the same. Street tried to look harmless and sincere when he looked at him. Street said, “It’s true, son. We all think your mother’s the greatest.”

Tallgrass continued frowning at him. “Then why were you laughing at her?” he asked.

“We weren’t,” said Street. “Well, we were, but it wasn’t to be mean. It’s because we all know how great she is.” He looked around for help.

Digger and the Professor chose to stay out of it, so Sage said, “Sometimes friends tease each other, but it’s all in fun. It doesn’t mean they don’t like you.”

Tallgrass thought about that, then said, “Then why did you look unhappy?”

“Well …”

The Professor grasped the baton. “Even though it’s done in fun, nobody likes to be the one singled out.” He patted Tallgrass’s neck, and his stomach lurched when he realized he was touching his son. “It was good of you to stick up for her, Tallgrass. That’s what we do for people we care about.” He smiled at Sage and the two men. “If you hadn’t, though, I don’t think it would have been long before she stuck up for herself.”

Tallgrass looked at Sage, and she said, “That’s right. I was just going to let them have it when you saved me the trouble. Thanks.” She grinned and punched him lightly on the shoulder.

He frowned a little longer, then grinned. He said, “You’d have really let them have it, wouldn’t you Mom?”

“Darn rights,” she said. “They wouldn’t have known what hit them.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking at the men. “You wouldn’t have known what hit you.”

Street threw his hands up. “I’m just glad you stepped in when you did,” he said.

Digger and the Professor nodded, and Tallgrass said, “Yeah!” Then he took off and ran a big circle on the grass. They watched him for a moment, the Professor with especially soft eyes.

Sage turned to Street. “So, how is everybody? My mother and father?”

“Your village is doing fine,” he said. “They were happy when I told them we saw you. Well, most of them, anyway. I think they were mostly glad to hear that you survived.”

“I see,” she said, surprised. She had thought they hated her. “My father?”

“Yes, I had a good long talk with him. He was really happy and relieved to hear you were all right. And I’ve been back there once since, so I was able to tell him how well you’re doing here.” His eyes flicked away and back. “He and your mother are separated. I guess they couldn’t keep it together after …”

She was surprised that this news didn’t surprise her. “Did you see Tallgrass?”

“Yes,” he said. “The first time, he came and asked if we’d seen you. He obviously really cares for you, Sage.”

“And the second time?”

He hesitated, then said, “He’s with someone.”

“Who?”

“You wouldn’t know her. She’s from the tallgrass prairie, over by the mountains. Like his own grandmother.”

“Are they happy?”

“I think so. They have a daughter, not much younger than your Tallgrass.”

“That’s good,” she said. “I’m glad he’s happy.” She was wearing a wistful smile as she watched her own Tallgrass trotting back to them.