Analog SFF, April 2011 by Dell Magazine Authors

Author:Dell Magazine Authors
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dell Magazines

Short Story: TWO LOOK AT TWO by Paula S. Jordan

Beware of generalizations....

"It's getting worse, isn't it?” Sara said, seeing the set of Jason's grizzled jaw.

He had stopped along the path, eyes fixed on the beloved old oak that now dropped heavy branches on the barn with every storm. He laid an arm across her shoulders and squeezed.

"I'll try to get it cut before winter."

"No,” she said. “I meant . . ."

He gave her another hug, still sweet, and strong for a man nearing seventy.

"I knew what you meant,” he said. Then he sighed. “Yeah, I saw another one this morning.” He looked down at her blue eyes. They were sad now, in a face more used for smiling. He turned away so as to not show her all his worry. “It was a rabbit this time, a little one.” He shook his head. “One ear half bit off, then stuck back on again. A gash all but healed on its side. Neat, too, like it'd all been stitched up by a surgeon. Darndest thing."

But they didn't dwell on it.

It was a perfect fall day on their North Carolina mountain, and their anniversary. Sara's late class at the local college would be taught tonight by a substitute, and all but Jason's most needful chores would wait for tomorrow. He whistled for Shep, the border collie, and followed its stiff, old dog's lope along the path that led out through the fields and up the mountainside into the forest. Sara, deep in thought, followed after.

Neither spoke of the silences, hours long sometimes, when the whole forest had gone still. Each time the small scurryings and bird calls had returned to normal. But once, not long ago, the red fox had limped a little when she reappeared on her twilight hunt along the forest's edge. Her hurt healed quickly, but in the weeks that followed there had been other injuries. Sara told herself that there had to be an explanation. Whatever the intruder might be—a bear? a mountain cat?—it would soon wander on to higher ridges in search of larger game.

The thought eased her, and she looked up toward the forest where fall colors glowed in bright, late afternoon light. Then she sighed. Jason, playing “fetch” with Shep along the path, seemed to be shifting his weight to one side as he walked, maybe favoring a sore knee. Well, they were no spring chicks, were they? Either of them. But it would spoil his fun to worry him with it now. She smiled and moved ahead to walk at his side.

They spoke of small things and laughed at Shep's antics. He had worked out much of his stiffness in the game and bounded away upslope or down, then back again, joyful as a pup. But his old training held. At the edge of the pasture he settled into lead position, ahead and to the right of his humans. Jason called “Good boy” as they all climbed higher into the forest.

At the final open

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