Foxfire
Foxfire settled the plate and glass beside her on the stone seat. She admired the dappled shadow
that spread like an ethereal drape over the dish, the bench, herself, and the immediate area of the
garden. Surrounding her, flecks in the shade twitched and twittered, light and sound oddly
similar, oddly coordinated. And yet, if you think about it, it's not so odd.
The coolness under the pocket-melon tree seemed odd also. You wouldn't think such a pale shadow,
with light breaking through, would dilute the heat of the noon-day suns. But it does. She
wriggled to align her fanny with the carved stone. It does quite nicely.
Beyond the tree's shade, unkempt but prolific beds of plants filled the backyard, except for her
cottage and a few paths. The broad, inspiring scent of freshly turned earth mixed with the smooth
aroma of young greens. She'd just been out among the early achievers, including carrots and snow
peas. Other edibles were just sprouting, like xtomatl, maize, goma, kaspé, and many others. A
tang of anticipation whetted her appetite.
Don't get too comfortable, ndito, you don't deserve it.
This echo of last evening's guilt shook Foxfire, but she attacked it with a quick prayer. Sire of
Nature, Womb of the Universe, I pray not to change Thee or Thy Will, but to change myself, to focus
my energies on the Patterns of Life as created by Thee, Our Lord. Amein.
Relief eased through her, and she eyed the meal before her. Cool, clear water. Snow peas just
picked. Tubers fetched from the root cellar and washed. Shadows rippled over it. Melon? She
peered up into the branches overhead. Careful to stay in the shade, she rose to ponder her
choices. It was pushing the season some, but she decided that green and crunchy would work for
today. She reached and plucked.
Footsteps on the walk. She glanced that way. The house blocked her view of the main path. A
visitor for the family she rented from? But all the residents of the house were out, scattered to
work and school. She, in fact, would be gone in not too long for the late-day shift at the
clinic. Perhaps a visitor to another house along the way? Bouncing the pocket melon absently in
one hand, she waited.
A man appeared under the trellis that led to the garden from the house's entrance. The regimented
shadow obscured his face, but Foxfire could tell he was tall and lanky. Could be him. Sandaled
feet took the sunlight first. Above them, loose supple serge de Nimes. It is!
"Okra!" she called, then waved. "Over here!"
Full in the glare now, the man signaled back, but didn't alter his deliberate pace. Foxfire
watched him carefully, trying to enforce calm on her heart and stomach. The Executive Elder for
The Tangent actually coming by to see me! When she'd called in her concern about strangers at
Ammaerln Houserow, she'd expected an appointment to be set, somewhere in an office. But here he
is!
When she could without shouting, she asked, "Can I get you something?" She gestured to her meal
with her melon-filled hand.
He smiled warmly, sending a standing wave of wrinkles across his cheeks, around his eyes, and onto
his forehead. "A melon?" he replied.
"This one's none too ripe. Perhaps —" she indicated the branches overhead, raising her eyes as
counterpoint "— you could reach a better one."
He set his attention to the task, without slowing his steps, even as the tree's shade flowed up
over his legs, torso, and head. Using a rolling movement, he flung up a hand, seized something
buried in glossy leaves, and displayed it to her with a flourish.
"Just so?" he asked.
"Beautiful!" Sure looks good.
"I think I could find another. Should I?"
Desire almost triggered an answer, but the weight in her hand stoppered it. "No," she said. "This
one's picked. I'd better eat it."
"It will ripen on a shelf."
She grinned. "O.K. then!"
He reached again, produced another perfect melon, and sat with her. "I'm sorry to drop by
unannounced."
"This is fine," she said. "Uh, do you mind?" She gestured at the plate and glass. "I start shift
in a little while."
"No, I should apologize. I tried to call for a will-see, but the Em-Deh was unavailable.
Unavailable! Never in my life have I found it so, but there it was. Being out of the
neighborhood, I couldn't use Our Circle. So, on my way to a can-feel near here, I decided to see
if you were home. Then, the qi-che dawdled unbelievably. Such a day! So, go ahead. Just talk as
you find your mouth empty."
What do I say? "I don't know if this is worth your bother." He seems very receptive. "Do you
know Ammaerln House-row?"
Okra nodded.
"I often go by there on my way home from the clinic," Foxfire continued. "It's been vacant ever
since I started training. So, when I saw somebody prowling around there, I stopped to ask. I
didn't find out much, except they're not from Ganj Dareh." She lowered her voice.
"They're not even from Popovich, I think."
Okra narrowed his eyes. "Anything about why they're poking around in Skeinswift?"
Foxfire shook her head. "I was concerned," she said, "about the Bears."
Okra nodded again, his expression saying he understood perfectly. "It could have something to do
with this Rendezvous-of-Futures confusion that Byukan-Hamil is inflicting on Ganj Dareh."
Foxfire had thought of that. She shook her head. "They weren't wearing gong-she clothing."
"Hmmm." Okra's brows shifted, extending their shadows further over his eyes. "Maybe it's
Byukan-Hamil's competition."
"Pardon?"
"Ganj Dareh has asked for bids on its annual contract for anshinkan services, and an off-continent
combine, affiliated with the Gatogrebok Con-Hominium — very big in the rest of Yeibichai — is
competing for it."
Foxfire remembered her encounter with anshinkan, the only one she'd ever had. "Good."
Okra's eyes narrowed within their caves. "Foxfire, any change in the anshinkan situation could
pose a threat to The Tangent, especially the Bears."
"I'm sorry, but that woman made a lot of trouble for me."
"Who?"
"I don't know her name — and I never want to know. She acted in charge of things at that accident
by Qohey House-hill."
"Red-haired? Tall?"
Foxfire nodded.
"Ah, Doyle Phoebe Heejanus. What happened?"
Foxfire explained how she and Grizzly had heard the alarms sounding from the construction site and
rushed over to help, how the demanding tactician tried to pay them for helping out, how Grizzly had
broken off the haggling by scooping up a young Ausländer victim and carrying him off to the
clinic.
"We kept him stable, of course, and an anshinkan ambulance picked him up later that day, but the
Ruling Elders heard about it. I spent an evening reviewing catechism."
Okra chuckled. "They do like their catechism, don't they?" But then his eyes slipped off to the
side, and he settled back down on the stone seat. He sat there and pondered, his head lifting and
dropping slightly as though he were following something only he could see. Foxfire didn't dare
disturb him. She ate instead.
After a moment, his eyes came back around. He gave her an easy smile and reached into a pants
pocket. He pulled out a pocketknife, opened it, then winked at her. "I have a proposition for
you. Keep eating while I tell you about it."
Gaia's toenails! What could he want with me? Foxfire nodded raggedly, looked down at her food,
and found that her appetite had escaped. She picked up a peapod anyway.
Okra said, "I do know a little about you, Foxfire. Your family has been part of The Tangent since
its inception. Both sets of grandparents were Originals. Both parents, of course, born into the
sodality."
"You chose the name 'Foxfire' at your Coming-Out." He smiled. "A reminder of Earth, I believe, a
gentle light found in those forests' shaded coves, a sign of the Lord brought forth by one of
Life's smallest creatures. A delightful choice for a wonderful reason."
What? Foxfire froze. I told practically no one about my motive. How could he know so much? Do I
look at him or what? She peeked through her lashes. He had sliced open his melon; now he carved a
piece and lifted it toward his grin. Oh. Well, that's good, isn't it? I think so.
Blithefully, Okra went on, "Up until then, your folks called you 'Pfenig.' I'm not sure what your
brothers called you."
Icy fingers scratched at Foxfire's heart, casting off any warmth she'd mustered. Names, no, but
other things, things I still can't tell anyone about. So what do I say here? "I forget."
"How are they, anyway? Your brothers?"
Her everlasting wound flared inside Foxfire like a blowfish, but a control just as ancient kept her
answer civil. "They're doing fine. Painter's thinking about opening another shop and his wife's
pregnant again. And Hound will unveil his one-man fractal-caress show on the Artistic Concourse of
the Em-Deh quite soon, he says."
"It must be hard following such accomplished siblings."
Okra offered the observation off-handedly, but the words carried a balm of compassion that took the
edge off this recurrence of her hurt. Foxfire shrugged.
"Is that why you didn't go on to university after you left Society for Passage? Even with good
grades on your Final Exams?"
Foxfire shrugged again. A touch of sympathy won't cure my life. But it is nice. Softly, she
offered him a glimpse of her dilemma. "I still live within a ten-minute ride of my parents — and
my brothers. It's not like I ran away from home. How far could I go and still stay within The
Tangent?"
Even that minor scoff scored her heart with a familiar pang, the one that flared every time
someone, herself included, even implied leaving The Tangent. More than a tabernacle, though she
saw everyone there twice during Sabbath and once in between. More than a neighborhood, though
identity was complete there, too. In Ganj Dareh, that meant Skeinswift —
"There's Snowcone," he suggested. "Or Log Cabin. Or ... several other direvnya."
"I can't go there and —" she dropped the peas "— do what I want to do."
Okra patted the air between them, hushing and calming her at the same time. "There's more to life
than nursing." He pursed his lips. "Or rather I should say, there's more to the nursing life than
health maintenance in our Neighborhood Health Concern."
Excitement edged out anxiety. She shouldn't hope he was talking about the Bear Project; she didn't
deserve this much attention, much less that. Foxfire struggled to keep her breathing regular.
Okra went on, "I know about your campaign with Nurse Poplar to work at NHC's pre-natal clinic. She
told me how you've arranged with the other Nurses-in-Training for the shifts when the Bear
surrogate mothers come in — and that most of them were glad to get away from that. And I see from
the Bears' schedule that you escort the cohorts around town a lot — even pulling an extra shift of
that last night. And you help at their school there in the NHC."
"I—" Words caught in Foxfire's throat. She cleared it and tried again. "I'm getting as much
experience with those gentle people as I can." She wanted to add, "without working for the Bear
Project," but didn't.
"How would you like to work for me when you get your Nurse's Cap?"
Yes! But her body trapped the word: her throat closed up again; her empty lungs couldn't push it
out; and that too-familiar hollow of fear swelled inside her and forced thoughts into her mind.
Don't try! Don't try and you can't fail. Because if you do try, you will fail. Foxfire
strove to fend off these toxic notions.
Blinking with confusion, Okra wiped his knifeblade on his pants' leg, folded it one-handed, and
slid it into his pocket. "Alright, I'll admit that the Bear Project may not look appealing from
the outside: too much work just to earn more than a chance of success, too much risk of failing
our entire sodality. Staying with The Tangent's Health Concern does offer you a more stable career
while letting you care for the Bears. But let me show how that's changing."
He sighed and squinted his eyes at her. "You were very young when Bear died; you hadn't even
started in the Network of Learning. You probably don't remember the turmoil within The Tangent,
all the meetings your parents — and every other adult — attended. We rejoiced in the Bear
Miracles — nothing like that had ever happened to The Tangent; even the Escape from Mondonguillo,
which brought the Originals together, then to an uninhabited Yeibichai where they built a home for
our sodality, doesn't match this Work of the Lord."
Foxfire's tension collapsed. She loved stories, from her folks, from her friends, even the Story
Cycle told by the Teaching Elders during service on Sabbath Eve. And Okra recounted his with a
touch of disrespect that gave her new insight. She absently noshed on her tubers.
"But this Challenge of the Lord rattled us. Basically, we didn't know if we could afford it. We
were barely solvent then — and we're not much better off now. However, we didn't have much
choice. The Challenge seemed — and still seems — so definite. So, we started the Bear Project
— and my father, who was Executive Elder, asked me to run it. The honor — and responsibility —
overwhelmed me, so I started small and —"
Okra caught himself, then through a self-mocking grin, he said, "I'll skip four Eighters of
negative cash flow. We sold our first picoturization products point-six Eighter ago — about the
time you entered Nursing school — and sales on-planet have been increasing ever since. Test
marketing of the products is going well on five other planets.
"And we provide services." His gaze drifted away. "We've four Bears on a pilot project with the
Mirnaya-Direvnya combine on Continent Glenn. We've doubled their near-line storage capacity with
zero down-time. The Bears provide the best way to thwart the superparamagnetic effect yet
developed!"
He focused on Foxfire once more. "For the first time since we arrived on this planet — Glory in
the Lord! — The Tangent stands a chance to clear a substantial profit —"
Foxfire joined him. "Glory in Life!" they chorused.
"It will be glorious, not having to worry about paying next year's bills, much less what we still
owe this year. Glorious, being able to expand our neighborhoods." His voice husked with emotion.
"Glorious to even consider the possibility of saving for the future.
"And it's the Bears who've made it possible.
"Foxfire, those kids of ours are wonders, but they need a lot of love and care — that's why so
much of NHC is committed to them. Despite that —" his face spasmed into sadness, brows slanting
across eyes, creased cheeks sagging "— they die very early. We need to work on that. That's why
the pre- and post-natal regimen for each cohort is specific. We need sound data if we're to help
these people — and I like very much the way you called them that — live longer
lives full of hard work and joy. It's not the money, Foxfire, it's—"
A piccolo started up in Okra's pocket, piping a Celtic rhythm. He glanced at his watch, patted the
pocket into silence, then picked up the pieces of his melon. Ready to go, he paused and gathered
up her eyes with his. "What do you say? Work for me after you graduate?"
"Yes!" Foxfire popped out the word before panic, or doubt, or fear, could set in again.
"Good! Then I have a small favor to ask of you."
Suspicion burst through her, clearing the way for tendrils of dread. "What do you mean?"
"Work with these people."
"Who?"
"The people at Ammaerln Houserow. If they're Byukan-Hamil's competitors. If I can put together a
deal with them." He made his grin sympathetic. "If I can clear it with Nurse Poplar."
How can I say "No?" After all that. Anger added its stripes to the dread streaking her insides.
"Why?" she demanded. She wanted to prick him harder, but couldn't muster anything sensible, so she
left it at that.
"Good question." He leaned toward her. "Here's what I'm thinking: we've defined our relationship
with Heejanus' combine by its absence. Oh, we appreciate how she's left us alone, but as we expand
with success, that's not going to work anymore. In fact, ever since your run-in with her, she's
been pestering us for a meeting — first time in nearly four years. But we can't do that; after
all, she is Byukan-Hamil."
He flattened his lips. "Byukan-Hamil would not even consider our product line." A growly edge
rose in his voice. "The Team of Partners said it was 'too radical' and 'incompatible with our
infrastructure,' et cetera, et cetera. And I couldn't find any of their combines willing to ignore
that edict. Nobody on this entire continent will buy from us ... because of Byukan-Hamil.
"Oh, we've opened up other markets, as I told you — with a lot of work and price concessions —
but if Gatogrebok forges a foothold here, in Ganj Dareh, they could help us really break out. And
if one of us showed them how to get settled in the neighborhood, even gave them a boost toward
winning the contract, well, then ..." He shrugged. "I'm sure they'd return the favor."
"Why me?" Indeed: why me? But this is the chance I've hoped for! You're not ready. Wait till
next year. Wait for graduation. Just wait.
"You work nearby. You know the area. You're a Nurse — almost. I think they'll start their
marketing campaign by demonstrating their approach to healthcare, so you'll fit right in. What do
you say?"
"O.K." Nyah! she told her doubts. He knows me, knows my work, and he wants it. Comfort from
those words rippled through her. Better not let him down then. The warning chilled her assurance
once more.
"Good, good. I'll let you know what I work out. Good-bye."
Okra withdrew, then turned and ambled through the garden until he faded from sight beneath the
shadowy trellis. Those geometric lines at the far corner of the garden blurred with the random
flickerings of light arrayed around her.
Foxfire slumped back on the garden seat, exhausted from richocheting emotions. The Tangent,
through her parents, had created her — as well as her brothers! The Tangent, through its
community, guided her to physical, mental, and emotional maturity — though she had some work left
to do on that last bit. The Tangent set her apart, let her be herself, said, "Go. Do. Make us
proud." Well, she hadn't gotten that far yet. They provided the background in the tapestry of her
life. And they left it up to her to weave its picture, selecting thread and pattern, color and
texture. Why couldn't she do all that and serve The Tangent too?
Meyer, with that cute frown of confusion, rose in her mind.
He could Join me in my Life, couldn't he? Ha, nobody's Joining anybody for the time being.
There's that, ndito.
Perhaps he'll wait.
Perhaps he will.
Okra, older, wiser, more demanding, joined Meyer in a duo of expectation. And him? Will he really
hire me? Will he even call me back?
Prayer asserted itself like an automatic doubt extinguisher, one that would've helped last night.
If only I'd thought of it.
Today, here, now, she reach for spiritual balm, with the words, Sire of Nature, Womb of the
Universe, I pray ...
