And that was not a place he wanted to go in his mind. Because if he really went there he might eventually have to stop, and that would suck.

This one’s face, though… there was something different about her. There was something other than bland cooperation in her eyes; there was sadness, a depth. Or maybe he was just freaking imagining it.

“Will you come down and talk to me, Mary?”

“My name is Eyanna.”

He smiled. It was a bit rude, but she was communicating at least. “But ‘Mary’ is easy for me—”

“Eyanna.”

Yes, definitely rude. He grinned. “Okay. Ee-yaah-ña.” He said it a couple of times. “Will you come down and talk to me, Eyanna? I won’t hurt you.”

She laughed, as if to say he couldn’t hurt her if he tried.

“You don’t think I could catch you, huh? You’re probably right. I’m too big to climb trees.”

He wracked his brain. He wanted to lure her down, but he didn’t have a whole lot on him. He pulled out his wallet. He had plenty of cash, but he didn’t think that would interest her. He dug around in one pocket and pulled out some old snapshots.

There was a head shot of an ex-girlfriend, an actress. She was a blonde with big hair, a cute girl. He put the others back.

“This is for you.” He held it out.

She didn’t come down, but she looked at it. He held it as high as he could and tilted it into the starlight. “A female, you see? Very pretty. Come look.”

She finished her food, taking her time. His arm got tired holding up the damned picture, but he thought it was working. She tossed the plate to the ground and slowly, keeping her eyes on him, she began to climb down.

At the base of the tree she stood, watching him, as if telling him with her eyes that she wouldn’t put up with any funny business.

He held the picture out to her. “Take it.”

She took a step forward and stretched out her long arm. She took the photo, staying as far from him as possible. She stared at it at the front, then the back, then the front again, her eyes wide.

“I want to be your friend.” Denton smiled. “Here.”

He reached toward her. He only meant to take her wrist and pull her a little farther into the light so she could see the photograph better. But at his movement she was gone, quick as a cat, bounding into the trees.

It was Wednesday, by Denton’s reckoning. He and John and the other males they worked with were at the waterfall having a swim. It was a gorgeous day and the swim was a nice change, but Denton wasn’t feeling too happy. The lump in his throat was worse.

Doctor, it hurts when I do that.

So don’t do that.

Only he wasn’t sure what it was he was doing or how he could stop.

The waterfall was loud this close-up. The Sapphians had brought him to a perfect spot, close to the waterfall but not right beneath it. The water was fast in the middle of the stream, but at the sides there were still pools and some nice big rocks for lounging. He and John were lounging on one right now. The three males were swimming lazily in the water. Denton waved.

“Hey, John?”

“Yes, Denton?”

Denton loved the way John said his name—it sounded like “downtown” and always made him smile.

“I wanted to ask you this for a long time. What does allook saheed mean? Saheed is God, yes?”

The boy was stretched out on his back, his right hand in the water as if, consciously or unconsciously, he was hiding his deformity. Now he sat up. His right hand came out of the water, and he watched it dripping the wet onto his lap as if giving it some thought.

“Yes. And allook is a thing one person gives another person, something nice.”

“Like a ‘gift’ or a ‘present’?” Denton tried to explain the English words with pantomime.

“Yes,” John said, “that is the way.”

Allook saheed. Gift from God. That was nice.

John looked shyly into his eyes. “Do you know… I am also called allook saheed.”

“Yeah? You mean, all Sapphians are allook saheed? Gifts from God?” Denton felt a little bit disappointed.

“No, not all.” Looking humiliated now, as if it were a big deal to acknowledge it, he held up his withered hand. “But I am called allook saheed because of this.”

“Oh.”

Denton thought he understood. John was unique because of his hand, and Denton was unique also. The Sapphians acknowledged that specialness and that was, you know, kind of a mature way of looking at things. It was like the way some Indian tribes thought insanity was a blessing from God. Mysterious World had done an article on that once.

Now that he thought about it, John was treated pretty well by the others. He was never teased about his hand or shut out of reindeer games or anything. And he seemed to have as much access to females as any of the other males. That was cool.

He’d never seen the Sapphians mistreat anyone. Except Eyanna.

“Hey, John? There is a female named Eyanna. She is very beautiful. None of the people talk to her and she stays up in the trees.”

“Yes, I know that one.”

“Why does no one talk to her?”

John looked at the others, as if to see if they were listening. They were not that close and the waterfall was loud. He turned to Denton, folding his long legs in front of him. His face was serious.

“It is best to forget this female, friend.”

“Why?”

“Because it is best to follow the ways of the people. The people do not talk to this female or even say her name.”

“Why?”

John shook his head. In Sapphian that didn’t mean “no” but “you’re stubborn” or something like that; it was a mild censor. “Why do you want this female when you can have every other one?”

“Because I can have every other one.”

It took John a minute to get it; then he laughed and laughed. He seemed to find this extremely funny. Denton laughed, too, but he didn’t drop the subject.

“Why do the people not talk to Eyanna? What did she do?”

John’s laughter subsided. He made a reluctant face and moved one leg out to bob his toes in the water. “She is a ghost woman.” He made a fake crying face, rubbing at invisible tears in his eyes.

Denton didn’t get it at first, but there was only one situation in which he’d ever seen Sapphians cry. “You mean… her name was said in the circle and the people cried for her?”

John made the hand gesture for agreement.

“But what are those names? I wanted to ask you for a long time. I thought the names are ones who…” Denton pretended to choke himself, falling back as if dead.

When he opened his eyes, John had backed away on the rock, face pale. And the others, the swimmers, were racing toward them in a panic. Jesus, they thought he’d really choked himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said to John, deeply embarrassed. “I was playing.”

But John looked truly shaken and the others, pulling themselves onto the rock and looking him over carefully, were grim and brusque.

“I’m sorry,” Denton said to them. “I was playing. I’m fine. I’m good.”

Behind the backs of the others John looked at him with frightened eyes and made the hand gesture for “no,” making a face that could only be interpreted as a warning.

And Denton knew that he did not understand anything about these people, not anything at all.