Read St. Clair (Gives Light Series) Online
Authors: Rose Christo
Stu Stout: Isn't that obvious?
dosabite: newe nangkawi
prairierose: mitukkanno pusikwa!
skylar st. clair: maybe it is, but i
still don't understand. sorry
skylar st. clair: immaculata where the
heck is your computer? does your
grandpa's
wickiup
seriously
have
internet access?
dosabite: nu kee tunaakasuwanna
dosabite: hinni
Stu Stout: We've got to fight back.
HollyAtDawn has entered the room.
skylar st. clair: but what can we
really do?
HollyAtDawn: sigh
dosabite: mi'akwan
Stu Stout: Everyone's capable of doing
something.
HollyAtDawn: noyokowa'ippu!
Stu Stout: As soon as the monsoon's
over, let's meet at the flourmill.
prairierose: EWWWWWWW
Stu Stout: I'll pass the message along
to everyone I can.
skylar st. clair: OK. good luck, stu
Stu Stout: Luck's not needed. Just
innovation.
I was feeling kind of dubious by the time I turned
the computer off. Stuart was a smart guy, but how
exactly were we supposed to fight back against the
government? Plains People older and more
capable than us had fought the government for
centuries. And everybody knows how that ended.
This was shaping up to be the suckiest summer in
the history of summers. I felt especially bad for
Marilu, who had come out all this way for a nice
time with her extended family. That night after
dinner I baked big globs of maple candy over the
wood-coal stove; and when Marilu went upstairs
to change into her pajamas, I carried the cooled
tray after her.
"Ooh," she perked up. "Candy?"
I motioned for her to follow me into the attic. I
heard her let out a tiny little gasp. I'd set a couple
of cots on their sides and stretched quilts across
for a tent. The flashlight on the attic floor shone on
cut-out stars--really just the remains of an old
pendleton blanket. But the best part was that the
rain on the attic ceiling was so loud, it sounded as
though we were in the middle of it.
"Camping!" Marilu said, and dove under the tent.
"Oh, Skylar, this is so cool."
We shared candy together while she talked about
her hometown, the Pleasance Reserve. "It's not as
nice as Nettlebush," she said. "The ground's not
good for farming. The Paiute had good farmland
once, but the settlers snatched it up. And the
government-built houses are really old and really
bad, so you have to build your own if you can. But
if the government takes Nettlebush away from you,
you can come live with us, Skylar. There's room
enough for everyone."
I put my arm around her, touched.
"You know what I learned in geography class?
America is so big that everyone in the world could
fit in Texas. That's just one state! Can you
imagine it? And you know what else? There's
enough food and water in the world to feed seven
billion people seven times over. But people are
still homeless and hungry. I don't know why. All
that land. All that food. I don't know why we can't
just share..." Marilu stifled a long yawn. "I
wonder if it's raining where Danny lives..."
She laid her head on my shoulder and fell asleep.
I took the glasses off of her eyes and felt oddly
numb.
It was a relief for all parties when the monsoon
finally broke. Tiny golden Indian Mallows poked
out of the puddles in the ground and the old folks
sang praises to the sun. And Stuart Stout, true to
his word, organized a meeting in the flourmill out
west.
The meeting took place around dinnertime. I
slipped away from the bonfire and headed out
west, the sky in shades of sorrel sunset. I wasn't
the only one making the trek. I saw Shy Lorna, a
tall, bulky twelfth grader, walking alongside the
iron farm balusters, and I heard Matthew Tall
Ridge and William Sleeping Fox chatting
somewhere behind me. I found the flourmill, an
old wooden building with weather-worn walls,
and went inside.
The inside of the flourmill was musty and pitch
black. I tried to take a step forward and wound up
tripping over someone's foot.
"Ow!" I heard Daisy At Dawn say.
"What's going on?" said Autumn Rose In Winter.
"Would someone open the damn door?" said Isaac
Takes Flight.
A bright light abruptly filled the flourmill.
I looked around the building and briefly admired
its antiquity. The walls were old and smooth; I
could see the nails holding the wood panels in
place. Against the far back wall stood a round,
flat wheel made of stone--probably the grist--with
a heavy hand crank and a feeding tray for the
cereal grains.
I looked around the crowded flourmill at the
familiar faces. I saw Autumn Rose and Prairie
Rose standing with their brothers Ash and Sage
and their friend Siobhan. I saw the At Dawn twins
with Immaculata Quick, the shaman's kooky
granddaughter, and Annie and Aubrey standing
with Aubrey's older brother Isaac. Sarah Two
Eagles stood with June Threefold and Andrew
Nabako. Shy Lorna tried to shrink behind Zeke. It
was like an elephant trying to hide behind a mouse.
Mary grabbed Rafael's head and tried to shove it
in the grain tray.
"Can we focus?" said Stuart, exasperated.
That was when I realized the light was coming
from his hand. His hand was on fire.
"Ooooh!" Prairie Rose said. "How are you doing
that?"
"Liquid courage," Stuart replied. He had a clear
bottle in his right hand, and it looked suspiciously
like vodka. "The best incendiary I know. But
enough about that. Is everyone up to date about
what's going on with the government?"
"You mean they're taking the forest from us,"
Autumn Rose said tearfully. She was a very soft-
hearted girl.
"The forest is just the beginning. Once they've got
that, what's to stop them from taking more?
Remember, this is how the conflict with the white
settlers originally started. First we're sharing our
land with them, then they're shoving us off of it--
then they're calling us snakes and squaws and
destroying our villages."
"Well," Aubrey said uncomfortably, "if our parents
can't do anything about it..."
"They can't do anything about it that's legal."
"Keep talking," Mary said. Once you bring up
breaking the law, she's all ears.
"Do you know what a scorched earth policy is?
It's a warfare tactic. One side sets fire to their
land, their crops, their supplies, so their enemy
can't make use of them."
"Are you saying we should set the forest on fire?"
Annie asked skeptically.
"No. But what good is our land to the government
if they can't make money off of it? And no one will
want to buy it if they think there's something
terribly wrong with it. We have to make them
think the land's not worth anything."
"Pine beetles," Rafael said.
Everyone looked toward Rafael. He was
struggling, his braids caught in the cereal feeding
tray. I hurried over to him and helped him pull
them free.
"Ow. Dammit. Thanks, Sky." He shot a
glowering look at Mary. "Anyway, pine beetles.
They lay their eggs in pine trees. When the baby
beetles hatch underneath the bark, they come with a
nasty fungus that kills the trees from the inside out.
They've obliterated whole forests that way. And
you can't just tear down the dead trees and get rid
of the problem. The fungus sticks around for a
long time. If you breathe it in, it's bad for your
lungs."
"But we don't want to
really
destroy the forest,"
Daisy pointed out.
"Duh. That's why we plant the eggs in the outer
pines, let 'em hatch so the contractors see the
fungus, then kill the second generation before they
can do any more damage." Rafael rubbed his sore
scalp. "I mean, yeah, we'd have to kill some
trees..."
"But not nearly as many as a contractor might tear
down if he wanted to build a freeway, or a mall,"
Stuart joined in. "Cut off the hand to save the arm.
Scorched earth policy. This is a good idea."
"Just where do you plan on getting pine beetles?"
asked a cynical Isaac.
"Maybe we could harvest the ones that crawled up
your butt," Mary said with a dark grin.
Isaac seemed to shut up after that.
Rafael coughed into his fist. "I've got eggs
already."
"What?" Zeke said. "No you don't!"
Rafael scowled. "Yeah, I do," he returned. "Last
summer there was a pine beetle infestation in the
pinyon trees. Remember? Uncle Gabe told me to
crush the eggs so it wouldn't spread to the other
trees. But I felt bad about it, so I took the eggs
home and stuck 'em in the freezer instead."
"Oh my God," Mary said. "Those are pine beetle
eggs? I thought they were Rosa's and she was,
like, freezing them for future generations. So her
great-grandson could become his own great-uncle
or something--"
"Like the Tessier-Ashpools in
Neuromancer
?"
Aubrey asked.
"Can I borrow that book?" Rafael asked. "You
said you'd lend it to me."
"Can we
focus
?" Stuart said a second time.
"Do frozen pine beetle eggs even...um...keep?"
Autumn Rose asked.
"Yeah, they do," Rafael said. "They're like
scorpions."
"What do you mean?"
"Scorpions are awesome. You can stuff 'em in a
freezer for years, but the minute you thaw 'em out
they're scuttling around like nothing happened.
You can even microwave them and they'll survive
it. I swear, we're gonna get screwed over by a
nuclear war one day, and the scorpions are gonna
be the only thing left alive."
"And the roaches," Aubrey said uncomfortably.
"Well, yeah. Roaches don't even need their heads
to survive."
"Like chickens!" Prairie Rose said.
"That's right!" Aubrey said excitedly. "A chicken
doesn't really use its brain for anything, just its
brain stem, and the brain stem is in the neck, and--"
Annie clapped her hand over his mouth.
Immaculata tapped me on the shoulder.
I don't
know what we're talking about
, she signed.
I
smiled
apologetically.
It's about the
government
, I signed.
Rafael wants to plant pine
beetles in the outer forest to keep them from
taking our land.
Immaculata's eyes bulged gleefully.
Pine beetles
make for a delicious soup.
I backed slowly away.
"But uh...yeah," Rafael said, coughing again. "The
pine beetle eggs. I'll thaw 'em out of the freezer, I
guess."
"I'll help you spread them around," Aubrey said
brightly. "It'll be faster if we work together."
"Alright," said Stuart, sounding tired. "But
monitor the eggs closely, please. This will have
been for nothing if we destroy our own forest."
"I'm not gonna let that happen," Rafael said testily.
"I hope not. Anyway, that's all for now. I'll send
an e-mail if I think of anything new."
And Stuart closed his hand in a fist, swallowing up
the flame.
The following day was a Sunday, a day of rest.
Rafael's uncle Gabriel caught up with us after
church and invited us over to his house for dinner.
"Is that the house with the live oak tree?" Marilu
asked.
"A southern oak," Gabriel said, and winked.
All five of us traveled north by dusk, Marilu
skipping at Aunt Cora's side. Dad stopped
occasionally to point out the burdock pods
growing beneath the ponderosas. I made a mental
note to cull some later on. The roots are a great
remedy for all kinds of blood illnesses. Not that I
had any blood illnesses.
The sky was a rich shade of indigo. Gabriel had
set a blanket on the lawn, facing the badlands. The