Dance the Eagle to Sleep

by Marge Piercy

  “No, by the ravine. You can park hidden there. Try and get through.”

  The call came from the north gate that cars were breaking through the fence. Then they cut off the warning system. Shawn passed the word to seal the tunnels. Word got passed back to him that everybody not inside should take to the woods and fields and move out. He began jogging toward the hill, turning everybody around who was still heading toward the tunnels. He ran into Ginny carrying one of the babies, Sarah Jean.

  “What the hell are you doing running around with her? Why aren’t you in a tunnel by now?”

  “Joanna’s underground with the other two, but I had to go back for this one. I’ll have to carry her up top.”

  “I can manage. Give her over.”

  But Sarah Jean wakened to find herself joggled and cold and let out a piercing wail. Ginny took her back. “Just help me tie this scarf into a sling so my hands are free. We better get out of here”

  They trotted slowly. He would not leave Ginny and could not make her move any faster. Cars were pulling up to the farmhouse. More headlights on the drive. He did not turn around again. Sarah Jean was crying, but her cries were muffled by the scarf and Ginny’s body. Their progress was a slow trot, slower as they began to climb. He kept imagining slinging the baby in the scarf over one shoulder and Ginny over the other and leaping up the mountain like Superman.

  The orders were to disperse and make their way over the countryside to one of the other roads. From caution and convenience there was always an old car or two parked in each of the fields that bordered on a usable road. Only a handful of Indians were scattered along the hill trail climbing, then, since most of them who hadn’t made it into one of the tunnels had faded across the fields and into the brush. Halfway up, they had to stop for Ginny to catch her breath. She had a stitch in her side. In a small clearing they sat down on a rock.

  He could not see much. Searchlights and spotlights moved here and there below. They could hear the loud mumble of a PA system broadcasting some demand or appeal, but they could not make out the words. Occasionally they heard a shot, and a couple of times a flare went off. A series of dull bangs sounded. Not until they had started to climb again did they hear the sharp erratic crackle of rifle fire and pause to look at each other. Orders had been to escape and to avoid confrontation. But somewhere down in the fields, there was fighting.

  “I haven’t been here since the night we took Chuck up,” Shawn mumbled.

  “That’s why I didn’t like Corey coming up here to fast. He always has visions, anyhow. I’ve never seen anything else scare him the way he can scare himself.”

  “You think it’s my fault.”

  “I think there is always more than one way to do what you think you have to do.”

  “You mean, like Joanna, you think it would have been better to do it in the dance?”

  Ginny laughed shortly, coughed. She was out of breath from climbing. “Did you think that? No. Myself, you know I’d be tickled if you never did that again. But you could’ve talked it over with him first. If Joanna had told him what she was going to do, do you think he would have said boo?”

  “Shhh. What’s that?” They froze. A small animal rattling the bare branches of a bush. They went on. He pushed Ginny up the steep inclines with a hand braced in the small of her back, or he shoved her up by the buttocks. He put his hands on her more than he had to, but she ignored it. “Ginny, don’t you see, Joanna couldn’t talk to him first. The whole point was to act independently, not with his permission beforehand.”

  “Mmmm. Takes two to be dependent. She could have launched her liberation by letting go her tight hold on him, too.”

  “Women are the hardest juries for women.”

  “I guess I’m a hard jury all the way around. I’ve known Corey such a long time. She made a mistake in the way she did it. Hurting him wasn’t what she had to do.”

  Probably because he was so tired. Yes, must control his reactions. Yet he was hurt and angry. He wanted to take out his anger on her and throw her down and jump on her. Judging, judging him. His voice came out high and ironic and rather stagy: “Don’t you think it’s strange. We’re running for our lives. There’s a battle going on down below. Maybe it’s all over for us. Our home is gone. Maybe our tribe is destroyed. And we’re analyzing the subtleties of a love affair”

  “Well, you’ve caught me alone, haven’t you? You’ve been giving me those Absolve-me glances for days. I’m telling you, Joanna privatized their thing even more than he did. She wanted him so badly. You overlook that.” She wrinkled her nose at him and shifted the baby to take its weight differently.

  “I haven’t been asking you to absolve me. I guess I don’t think I need absolution. I’ve been asking you to talk to me. I guess I think friends should discuss differences, instead of presuming to sit in judgment on each other”

  “All you want is your nightly bone.”

  “How do you know what I want? Do you ask me?”

  “Do you ask yourself?”

  He took hold of her by the arm and turned her to him. Sarah Jean immediately started wailing again. “Would you please not haul at me? I’m tired already, and I just don’t feel like being touched.”

  “By me.”

  “All right, by you. I don’t feel that close to you.”

  He felt muffled in his own anger and helplessness. He really wanted to shake the daylights out of her. He also wanted to scream at the top of his lungs that he loved her. He thought she would walk away with a shrug. It seemed meaningless to say that while they pushed up the mountain trying to save what they could, while their friends were in danger scattered through the night. What did he mean by it anyhow? It was a thing you were supposed to say to a woman; it was supposed to make things good between you.

  When they came to the top, the Coleman lantern flickered in the cabin. Ben shouted when he saw them. His little sister Ruthie was cutting off the slices of cheese for Corey and handing him a canteen of water as he squatted beside the lantern eating. “Where’s Joanna?” He leaped to his feet.

  “Down in one of the tunnels” Ginny answered. “Tunnel D, with the babies. She’s all right.”

  “What are you doing with that baby up here?”

  “I didn’t get back in time. They had to seal the tunnel.”

  “They should have waited for you with a baby, damn it. Ben and Ruthie came running up to warn me. Brought some food along. But why didn’t Joanna come on up with you? Was she on nursery duty?”

  “No, Sylvie was. I just happened to check the nursery when the alarm sounded. Nobody was there. I don’t know if Sylvie panicked, or if she went off duty without getting someone to take her place, or what. But I got Joanna and we did what we could.”

  “Hey!” someone shouted from the path. Corey blew out the lantern. He took up one of the rifles and Shawn took the other, and they waited. Two more warriors stumbled into the clearing, one of them, Jim, without a coat, with only pajama tops tucked into his pants. Jim’s teeth were chattering and Corey told him to wrap himself in the blanket from the cot.

  “Should we wait for more stragglers or move out?” Shawn put the question. “Ned was going to try to get out by the south gate with the truck and meet us by the ravine on Beaver Road.”

  “What’s the point running away till we see what they’re up to?” Corey relit the lantern, paced back and forth. His cheeks were hollowed with the stubble of several days, and he looked gaunt and a little mad. “It doesn’t sound good. A raid in the middle of the night sounds like they knew for sure we’re here. But if they stick around too long, we might have to make a diversionary attack to get the people out of the tunnels”

  Jim got to his feet. “We fell back only as far as the first woods. We waited there to cover the retreat of the others if it turned out to be needed. We lay down in cover to watch. We saw the pigs attacking one of the tunnels with tear gas. We saw the kids come out choking and fainting. After that, we beat it up the hill because we figured
we couldn’t help them any more and we better try to get up and pass the news along.”

  “Which tunnel?”

  “A. The one by the chicken house.”

  “What happened? It wasn’t sealed yet?”

  “Corey, they came straight at it, as if they knew it was there. We were too far to tell for sure. Maybe they saw somebody trying to get in. Anyhow, they cleaned it right out.”

  “If they start searching the woods, we’re cooked” Shawn said.

  Corey shrugged. “Do they have dogs?”

  “We’ve all left tracks in the mud all the way up.”

  Corey scratched the stubble on his face. “Let’s send a scout down to the road to see if Ned got through with the truck. If he didn’t, we’re better off staying here”

  Shawn went, full of anxiety. They looked very exposed in the clearing. Corey promised to post a sentry down the path. Shawn could hear Sarah Jean crying again as he started off.

  There was no trail down to the road, but dawn was faintly breaking. All he had to do was to follow the slope of the land, staying as close to the bottom of the ravine as he could find good footing. The bottom was wet with runoff, but the season made it easy enough to push his way through the scrubby growth on the sides, where it would be impassable in a few months, when the leaves would be thick and the small twigs no longer brittle and easy to force through. Once they had the truck, they would have to decide how to get the people out of the other tunnels. Send someone to scout. Maybe use decoys to draw off the police.

  He did not see the road until he stumbled out onto it. At first he could not find anyone, and he was wandering around hopelessly when a boy stepped out of the bushes holding a gun on him. He had a bad moment until New John spoke. “Shawn? Where’s Corey and the rest?”

  “You got through! Great. I came to scout. Where’s the truck?”

  New John showed him. A boy was lying on the metal floor wounded, and Carole was stretched out beside him. The others were crouched under a waterproof canopy except for Big Ned, who was tending the wounded. A bullet had passed through the boy’s collarbone, but he would manage until they got him to a doctor. Carole had taken a burst from a shotgun. Her chest and belly and back were ripped open. She was dying. Slowly the blood ran from her across the metal floor and out the end.

  Shawn squatted beside her. “Maybe the truck should take off and get you to a hospital. The rest of us can hide”

  “I’ll be dead in an hour. Listen to me. Everybody’s got to clear out” She spoke softly. “Was in tunnel D. The gas killed both babies” He had to lean over her to hear. The smell of shit from her burst intestines. “They choked to death in our arms. Joanna went crazy. They clubbed her down.” He took her hand. Cold, damp. “I felt ashamed, being taken in so easy. Me a warrior, and disarmed like that! I made a break for it.” Dark blood smeared her mouth. He knelt and kissed her.

  “Did they hurt Joanna?”

  “Couldn’t tell. She was out cold.”

  “Did you get hit escaping from the tunnel?” he asked the boy.

  “No. We had to shoot our way out through the gate. I got one of them”

  Big Ned nudged him. “Listen, you want one of the men to go up and fetch them? They got to move fast. We aren’t safe. They must have a report out on the truck.”

  “I’ll go back. I know the way” He was afraid there would be an argument with Corey about leaving, with Joanna in the hands of their enemies. The day did not lighten fast because the sky was covered with a low shield of clouds. A small rain fell and stopped, fell and stopped. But there was light enough now so that he could see his way, and though the scramble was steep uphill, he made good time. He was tired. He was tired beyond caring. His muscles felt thick and sore. He kept pushing himself uphill. He was scared all of the time in his belly like a poison working. He was scared all of the time that he would come and find them gone.

  They were waiting in the clearing in a nervous cluster. One more woman with a rifle had come up the path to join them. She had already given them the news that she had seen two more tunnels attacked with gas and the people inside made prisoner. She had set fire to the lab and then fallen back.

  Shawn looked carefully at Corey. He was quiet but together. Everybody started down the ravine. By the time they reached the truck it was just after seven, not really light, a dull morning and raining steadily. The boy was still lying in the truck, but Carole was gone.

  “We buried her the best we could,” New John said. He had been crying. They got into the truck. The floor was still sticky.

  Big Ned and Corey got up front, Ned to drive and Corey with the maps to figure out their course. Everybody else squatted in back around the wounded kid. They were anxious and glum, all expecting a roadblock. It was tense in the truck because they couldn’t see anything, and every time the truck slowed down or came to a stop, everybody strained to hear, and those who were armed held their rifles at the ready.

  “I hope Dolores wasn’t in tunnel D” he said to Ginny. She was leaning wearily against John with the baby finally asleep from exhaustion in her lap.

  “I hope she was. That’s where Joanna took Leaf. If they’re separated, she’ll be terrified”

  Shawn shook his head and told her briefly what Carole had told him. Depression thickened in the back of the truck. They were all close to exhaustion and despair. Nobody made conversation. Nobody had anything to say.

  It was nine when the truck stopped for the last time and the motor was shut off. Corey came around to open the doors. “Out, quick. Ned has to ditch the truck. We’re in Hoboken. We don’t dare try to reach Manhattan in the truck. We can rest and eat here, and wait for Ned to get back.”

  The Hoboken commune was in an old frame house. Shawn fell onto a mattress, kicked off his boots and peeled his wet pants and fell to sleep. He did not wake till late in the afternoon. By then Ned had come back and Ginny was acting as barber. A sign on the wall in Corey’s big block printing read: sometimes the red man must paint himself white. Corey’s hair was cropped already. His ears stuck out. He looked younger and skinnier. Looking at him, Shawn did not believe he had slept at all. The bones seemed to be coming through his skin in desperation. His eyes glittered and saw no one.

  At least Shawn was sure Corey did not see him. He wanted Corey’s gaze. He kept telling himself his sense of guilt was irrational—that Corey would probably have been captured along with Joanna if he had not been up on the hill, but he still felt as if everything, everything were somehow his fault. He kept realizing that Carole was dead. No one spoke about it. They could not afford to think of her yet. But he felt immobilized by guilt.

  After Ned had been shorn, Shawn sat down in the chair and Ginny spread the towel around him before beginning to slash and cut. The floor was deep in fallen locks, brown and black and now his yellow hair. The first report over the radio came on the three o’clock news. They figured the radio report to mean that what was going to be raided had been hit already. The radio described raids by the police of two states on the headquarters of an illegal armed gang of deserters. It promised more information on the evening news.

  Scouts sent out from the Hoboken tribe were back by supper. One of the Manhattan communes had been hit during the night, caught by surprise, and everyone busted except for one boy who had jumped naked from the fire escape to the next building and been taken in by a girl. Several carloads of kids from the farm had arrived in New York. Nobody who had been known to be hiding in any of the tunnels had turned up.

  Corey was functioning on his will. His face frightened Shawn, but he kept moving and giving directions and asking questions and calming people. “We have to move into New York. Have to disperse the communes. They’re down on us, and it’s time to set things in motion so they can’t pick us all off and round us up. We have to send runners to every commune. Got to get the word out.

  “In the meantime, we have to find out what’s happening to our captured brothers and sisters. What’s being done to them. We
go to Manhattan in groups of two”

  Ginny went to fetch the baby, but Corey stopped her. “This commune has voted to receive the baby Sarah Jean as their child.”

  “But she’s the only child our tribe has left”

  “We are all Indians. There’s work to be done” Corey’s hand tightened on her arm. She sat down. He went on, “Who knows when we’ll meet together again. Maybe on the streets. We knew they would come down on us. Now we’ll find out how well we used the time we had, how well we built ourselves a movement and a people.”

  They all kissed and embraced each other. He had the feeling Corey still did not see him. He was acting, he was strong, but he was locked in himself. Then they got ready to leave by twos. Ruthie was persuaded to stay in Hoboken, but Ben insisted on his right to go. Shawn was quietly certain that Ruthie did not want to argue any longer, but that she would follow her brother by herself.

  New John and Ben left first. Shawn stood to go. He looked at Ginny, but she was still sitting where she had been, and Corey was also looking at her. Corey gave a little jerk of his chin. “Come on,” and she followed him out without ever looking aside. Five minutes later, Shawn followed them with Big Ned. As they walked into the tubes, he felt as if he was really passing into the underground. The catastrophe numbed him. He was glad that there was much they had to do.

  Billy Storms the Sun

  They held the council Thursday in a hall where rock concerts went on every weekend, disguising it as a concert. The rock group was sympathetic, and Billy’s boys tied up the manager backstage. An hour before announced concert time, the Indians started arriving, filled the auditorium and the box office was closed. It had been engineered in such a fashion because there had to be a general meeting, but the chances of all their best people getting busted in one big raid were grave. Shawn had done a lot of the footwork—after all, it was his show-biz world they were borrowing—and the Indians arrived with previously distributed tickets and were checked by face at the door.