The Secret City

by Carol Emshwiller

  I can’t eat that home food. I have to find something else and fast. They did give me a knife, so sharp it’ll shave the hair off your arm. (That’s how Youpas tested his knives for butchering.) A good knife was all I asked for. I was always proud to be able to get along in the wilds. I hardly ever went home at lunchtime. Me and my fox—we mostly ate in the woods where we could eat together and not be bothered by other people—people that disapproved of both of us. Not counting Mollish, though.

  I never did find out if there are any wild spots on the home world. I should have asked if it was nothing but towers. I wouldn’t like that at all.

  This time of year the animals are in the warmer valleys—what few that aren’t huddled up for the winter. I hate to waste time on food, but I just can’t abide that goo of theirs.

  I can’t catch a fish by hand like Lorpas did—I tried and I never managed it. I make a little trip-trap. Fifteen minutes later I have a quail. I move the trap and set it again, then I use the stikers from the home world to light a fire. While the first one is cooking I catch two more. They’re small, but I’ll have enough now for a day or two. I’ll be hungry but I won’t starve.

  Needless to say, I don’t get far this day either. At this rate I’ll never get anywhere. First the storm, then finding Mollish and then sitting for half a day and hardly knowing I’m doing it. Mollish would have said moping, but it wasn’t moping this time. I needed time to realize she wasn’t here anymore. I needed time to think about how much I loved her.

  I find a big tree that fell, its torn out roots form a wall of earth. On the clean side where the trunk is, there’s a nice sheltered spot. I wrap up my quail tight and hang them from a branch several yards away and then crawl under the tree trunk. Tomorrow I’ll hurry. I’ll eat on the run, but I’ll be careful, too.

  LORPAS

  THEY’VE BEEN TALKING IT OVER. ALL OF A SUDDEN I’m not in charge of anything anymore.

  They’ve been wandering around town from the baseball diamond all the way to the fish hatchery, me, trailing after. Now and then I get to explain a thing or two but mostly they talk our home language. I’ve no idea what about.

  It’s a small town, just a little cluster of stores along Main Street. One store is nothing but fishing poles and rifles. There’s one grocery store, one gas station—more motels than anything else and most of those are old, and mostly empty this time of year. The library is in a normal house. So is the Paiute museum. The high school and the elementary school are two blocks back from Main Street. They share the same playing field.

  Jack and Youpas walk past the schools several times. I suppose looking for Emily. They stand for awhile and watch a soccer game. Girls playing, but thank goodness not Emily. These girls are a little younger. Is Jack getting any idea, now, of ages?

  I try, again, to tell him. “These are children. Child. Children. Babies.” I gesture sizes. I say, “Emily. A child.”

  Jack just looks at me.

  “Youpas, tell him.”

  “You can’t ever tell people what they don’t want to know.”

  JACK HAS DECIDED HE LIKES ICE CREAM AS LONG AS it doesn’t have anything lumpy in it like nuts and they both like McDonald’s. At least we’re not spending a lot of money on food, though I have a yearning to take them both to a nice restaurant with waiters or waitresses. It might have a good effect, especially on Youpas.

  That evening they go to a local baseball game and shout themselves hoarse along with the natives, though they have no idea how the game is played. I try to explain it to them, but they don’t want to know. I think again how young they are. And one a complete savage and the other utterly ignorant of this world. Actually they’re equally ignorant but in different ways.

  Allush…. She’s a savage, too. I wonder…. Maybe she thinks more or less as Youpas does about the natives. That’s what the old ones taught us. Except I don’t think Mollish felt that way.

  WE SPEND ANOTHER NIGHT AT THE MOTEL. I COUNT out what’s left of the money and show them. Not enough for much more than one cheap meal and a few more supplies for the trip.

  Jack says, “One, two, three, four, five, no good.”

  “We can’t stay. Are you ready to go? There’s nothing else to do.”

  I hope there’s nothing else to do. Who knows what they’ll conjure up.

  They discuss it with each other—again, in the home language—but not with me. Finally Jack says, “OK, OK.” And we pack up.

  I wonder if they actually are going to leave.

  I check for my knife. I still have it.

  We head for the outskirts of town, west toward the mountains. My donkey is in a field not far beyond the schools. We have to pass the schools first.

  But here’s Emily, waiting on the front steps of the high school as if expecting us. She’s leaning against the door in a kind of teenager’s slouch, her black cowboy hat pulled low over her eyes as usual. I almost expect a cigarette drooping in her mouth, except I know she’s against them. As soon as she sees us, she rushes up to Jack. Now looking more like a little kid than a teenager. Hugs him. Yells, “I knew you’d come.”

  She has a bigger backpack than her usual school bag. She’s ready to go.

  How did they ever get word to her without me knowing? Have they mastered the telephone, and quarters, and the telephone book without my help?

  “And now,” Youpas says, mostly to me, “We’re headed for Los Angeles.”

  I should have guessed. That’s where all three want to go.

  “With no money? And there’s too many of us to hitchhike. “

  Youpas says, “You won’t be with us,” while Jack says, “Truck. Truckses.”

  Is Jack, against me, too? Even Jack?

  Look how they stand, relaxed, Jack’s arm across Emily’s shoulder, Youpas, hands on hips.

  Youpas says, “First there’s Corwin.”

  “In front of Emily!”

  “First after we deal with you.”

  Look how they stand. A couple of innocents.

  “You’re the one, going to get our people discovered. If you kill somebody, the natives will find you in a minute, and I don’t want Jack getting into this kind of trouble before he hardly knows where he is.”

  “I killed before. Up at the city. The old ones told me to. We have to save our homeworld.”

  “Up there in the mountains it’s a little different. Though I can promise you these natives are still looking for the bodies and the murderer.”

  “All the more reason…. I’ve nothing to lose. Besides, we’re smarter than they are. They’ll never catch one of us.”

  “Hah.”

  “We wouldn’t be here if we weren’t smarter. Instead they’d be on our world.”

  Except….

  Not a problem.

  Not yet anyway.

  Youpas still stands, hands on hips. Jack is looking down at Emily. A couple of innocents.

  Only question is who gets which?

  Fast! One uppercut, twist, then one kick. Two down right in front of the school. Well, at least behind the trees and bushes that line the front walkway.

  I’m in charge again.

  I think.

  Emily just stands there. The look on her face doesn’t match the jaunty angle of her hat.

  Youpas is still groggy. I hit him hard. I turn and help Jack up.

  I have no idea whose side Jack is on, though maybe Youpas has given him a crazy idea of this world. Could he have convinced Jack that killing is necessary to save our planet?

  Youpas is really knocked out. I splash his face with water from my canteen. Then I help him up, too, but I hang on to his arm, twisted up behind him, good and tight.

  Just when I thought he was a changed man.

  “Look at yourself. Look how you’re dressed. You’re not the butcher anymore. You’re down here in civilization. You can have a completely new kind of life here.”

  Do I mean even if he’s already a murderer? Even if he killed their mule? Do I think my words
will change his mind about anything? And what in the world is he going to do with Emily?

  Jack just looks at me. “Whose side are you on, anyway, Jack?”

  “Anyway? Anyway?”

  The tune is off for a question in English, but I recognize it from the tunes of my parents’ speech. Big question. He hasn’t used that tune before. Except I don’t know what he’s asking.

  And I don’t know if Emily is safe from Youpas, or safe from Jack either, in a different way.

  But I have, suddenly, such yearning. Not only for Allush, but to be rid of all these people. To be alone and climbing the mountains by myself as I did before. To be heading toward Allush and that she would drop from a tree as she did before and then that there’d be just the two of us. But it’s more likely I’ll never see her again.

  YET AGAIN, WE TIE UP YOUPAS.

  I stop and pick up the burro. Load her up. I wonder if she’s safe with Youpas around.

  I tell Jack I’m going after Allush. I don’t tell him I’m going even though I don’t believe she’s there. “Do as you please. Stay or come.”

  Jack says, “I do come.”

  “Emily, I think you should go home.”

  “I’m going with Jack.”

  “Corwin will be right behind you.”

  “Not this time. He thinks I’m staying with a friend. That’s not a lie, I am staying with a friend.”

  “Emily, this is all wrong and you know it. You’re a kid, for heaven’s sake.”

  “I never liked anybody in the whole wide world as much as I like Jack. And I’m mature for my age. Lots of people say so.”

  “Running off with Jack at thirteen doesn’t seem that mature to me.”

  “I’ve heard all this before. Dad already talked to me a hundred times. I don’t need everybody doing it all over again.”

  “It hasn’t sunk in. Besides, Corwin will blame me if he sees Jack around you. He’ll be angry enough to shoot me and Jack.”

  “Then I’ll jump in front of Jack so he won’t get shot.”

  “You’ve been watching too much TV.”

  What have I got myself into with all these children?

  Am I trying to save Youpas by getting him up to the Secret City? What will I do with him up there? Besides, he’ll go back to being wild. But he’s still wild even down here, haircut, nice clothes, and all.

  Off we go again. Maybe.

  CORWIN HAS EIGHTY ACRES ON THIS SIDE OF TOWN. Emily wants us to take a back way, a dirt road that winds around the edges of his property. I want to stay on the main road even though we’ll pass nearer to Corwin’s house. I don’t want to circle round and round, maybe add an extra hour. I want to get away from town as fast as possible. But what’s the hurry? What does it matter? I give up. I hardly know what I’m doing or why.

  I stroke Toots. I’ve just loaded her up with most of our stuff, but she nuzzles into my chest anyway. We’re already friends. At least there’s one dependable creature here. I hope I can keep her safe.

  “All right, all right, we’ll go your way, but who’s to say Corwin won’t be out there riding his fences?”

  We turn away from the main road and start along the little dirt one that circles Corwin’s fields. Maybe just as well, less traffic and fewer people to notice the crazies heading up into the cold. Better on Toots’ feet, too, though as soon as we pass the summer people’s houses the road will turn to dirt, anyway.

  I turn around to see how my troop is coming along and I see there’s someone coming down the main road with the loose stride of a mountaineer, big pack as high as his head. He’s dressed in a jumpsuit. All sorts of things are hanging on his belt. His legs look funny. Or there’s something odd about the pants. He’s fallen, the knees of his pants are torn, also his elbows. Around his neck there’s a green scarf so frayed I can see strands of yarn hanging from it even from here. I’ve seen that scarf before. I’ve joked about it. But Mollish is dead. Whoever has that scarf has got to have slid down all that scree to her body and taken it right from her neck.

  But it’s a woman. Hair as short as a man’s. She’s turning. She’s starting to run towards us.

  Even as I’m thinking: Who? I’m thinking: But I don’t recognize her, and then I think: Yes! And I run.

  She comes straight to me, hugs me, crying. Big breaths—panting as if she can’t breath. I…. I’m all she wanted. All she wants. But I’m crying, too.

  We hold each other. I kiss her … at last kiss, really kiss, a long, long kiss, and she kisses me back. It’s as if we want to engulf each other with our kisses. Hold each other prisoner forever with our kisses and our hug. Then I kiss her tears. She isn’t going to let go of me. We fall on our knees, still holding each other.

  I’ve never had a woman in my arms before. Never. Not to hold close and kiss. I’ve been a loner for so long. Never even hoped. After all, I’m a bum. Allush is holding on to me as if I’m her hope, her savior. I will be. All else falls away. It’s settled. No need to talk about it. No need to ask. The question. She looks up at me—the face of my own people… a finer version of my own. In my arms … warm … warm cheeks….

  I forget all about Youpas.

  Then I hear Emily shout, “He’s loose.”

  I see him trotting away, already a couple of hundred yards down the road towards Corwin’s house.

  I don’t care. Again, and even more so, I want to be done with all this and all these people. I want to give Allush the skirt I stole for her and I want for us to go off alone together. I don’t want to stop kissing her—holding her.

  Except I have to care.

  “Jack, did you?”

  I hope he didn’t.

  “OK.”

  For once he says it only once

  Allush won’t let go, but I tear myself from her arms and take off after Youpas.

  I’m wondering if Corwin has his pistol handy. I wonder, is Jack on Youpas’ side now for the sake of our people? Will he try to convince Allush to join them? But surely Allush didn’t recognize Youpas. I wouldn’t have myself if I hadn’t been there for the transformation. I wouldn’t have recognized Allush if I hadn’t seen it happen with Youpas. But, yes, I would. I knew. My body knew. I could feel that it was her.

  ALLUSH

  WE HUG AND KISS AS IF WE’D ALREADY BEEN LOVERS and couldn’t wait to make love again. Our first kisses were so hard and insistent. So grasping. Both of us. He holds me too tight, I can hardly breathe. But I can’t breathe right now anyway.

  Then he’s pushing me away.

  “Lorpas!”

  “I have to. Wait for me.”

  “No!”

  I throw down my pack and start after him. But the man, one of my own kind, grabs my arm and tells me, in our home language to slow down. He tries to hold me back but I keep going. He says Youpas is saving our people. That somebody knows about us and so does this girl beside us.

  Youpas? Was that Youpas? Off to no good no doubt or Lorpas wouldn’t have run after him.

  I speak in our home language, too. “I don’t believe anybody but Lorpas, and I know Youpas only too well. Nothing he does is reasonable.”

  Is this the one called Narlpas or the one called Bolopas that I’m supposed to be looking for? Or is it another one entirely?

  He won’t let go. I pull him along, trying to go faster. “Anything Youpas is going to do can’t be good.”

  “Youpas is saving our world.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  I say that in the native’s language. I don’t know if he understands English or not.

  I finally twist away and really run. Their donkey lopes along beside me. I hear the man say, “I’ll bet? I’ll bet? I’ll bet?” as he chases after us.

  LORPAS

  YOUPAS RUNS STRAIGHT INTO CORWIN’S HOUSE—runs right in and runs right out again, crosses to the barn…. All this before I can catch up to him.

  I’m close behind now. I go in the barn but Youpas runs out the far side before I can grab him.

  And ther
e’s Corwin, just beyond, all by himself. He’s doing Emily’s job, bottle feeding the two motherless calves at the same time, a bottle in each hand.

  Youpas stops. He’s just standing. Looking. He has no weapon that I know of. Thank goodness I never bought him a hunting knife. But I’ve forgotten all about….

  Corwin freezes. For a moment even the calves freeze. I leap. I tackle Youpas. We’re both on the ground, but he turns around fast and then I’m in his line of sight. Now I know the discomfort and fear of being helpless on the other end of the freeze. No wonder he was furious at me. But he can’t let me go. He has to keep his stare or lose me. And now Corwin and the calves are free. I can see everything that’s going on and yet I can’t move or turn my eyes away. But nor can Youpas.

  Not such a great talent when there are other people out of the line of sight.

  I see Corwin out of the corner of my eyes drop one bottle and hit Youpas with the other. He has to hit several times before Youpas falls back and lets me go.

  Those bottles for calves are a lot bigger than for babies but they’re only plastic so Youpas isn’t that hurt, but he’s confused and freezing has worn him out—as it has me on the other end of it. I sit on him, careful to keep looking away.

  Corwin says, “I thought you’d left,” and I say, “I tried to but he … Hugh took over. “

  “He sure got cleaned up. If this really is the same man.”

  “The same.”

  But here’s Allush. She squats down beside us, stares at Youpas. I suppose trying to see, is it really him, slacks, good sweater, fancy shoes…. And Youpas looks up at her, says, “Good God, who is it? Is it really?” while she says, more or less the same things. Then she says, “You look great,” and Youpas looks away, as if ashamed. I feel him go limp.