Was by Geoff Ryman

Author:Geoff Ryman
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Published: 2016-02-07T16:00:00+00:00

Zeandale and Pillsbury’s

Crossing, Kansas

1883

The Fields were Full of Life

Title of a diorama in the Kansas State Historical Society Museum, Topeka, Kansas. A rather small area is shown full of native grasses and taxidermic wildlife, including one large, hunched, stuffed buffalo. On the rail around the exhibit there is a block of wood covered with a worn hide. A sign beside it says:

BUFFALO HIDE—PLEASE TOUCH

Of course there was a scandal. All the children had heard, and told their parents what Dorothy Gael had said. There was a queasy moment in each Manhattan household as minds seesawed back and forth from shock and indecision.

Nothing is hidden, but some things are blocked out. Everyone in Manhattan knew, really, what was wrong with Dorothy Gael. It was revealed in every twisted movement, each bitter and angry smile, each horrifically knowledgeable look, in the hefty size of her body, in the grimness of her aunty’s face, in the child’s rages and the way in which she could brook all pain and insult. They all knew, really, what it meant.

But nice people were not supposed to be able to recognize certain things, because they were supposed to be so untainted that they couldn’t even think about them. People sincerely believe that they were shocked and surprised and that they had had no idea such things happened. They sincerely thought they found it difficult to believe. There were veiled preachings from the pulpit. The Devil was here, in Kansas, but how to recognize his terrible face? The Devil, the Preacher said, could lurk within each of us. To recognize the Devil, we had only to look into ourselves. Let the other folks alone.

No one would tell Em what it was exactly that Dorothy had done to be expelled. “Some things are best left unsaid,” the Principal had told her. “But she has told some wicked lies, and is something of a bully.”

It was beyond Emma Gulch. It did not sound like her Dorothy at all. Her little Dodo, a bully? Quiet, shy little Dodo? At first she could not believe any of the stories. What could have been happening? Emma found that people would not speak to her unless she spoke to them. They murmured without looking at her and she began to realize that Dodo, little Dorothy, had been lying about Henry and her.

“What has the child said?” she demanded to know, hands on hips. She stamped her foot. “I’ve been part of this town, woman and child, for going on thirty years. Will somebody tell me?”

People were unable to tell her. The words stuck. Their eyes skittered like ball bearings on grease. “Some things,” they said, “are best left alone. You mustn’t fret, Emma. No one believes her.”

“Believes what?” Aunty Em yelped. No one would answer.

So she knew it was really terrible. And she also knew, really, what had happened. Emma knew her husband and herself and the life they led. For that very reason, she did not even begin to contemplate the truth. Instead,

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