The Edge of Sleep

Chapter 4

Dee was feeling good; she couldn’t remember when she’d been in such good spirits. She felt so good she didn’t even object to the sight of Ash eating tacos.

She saw the man watching her from his solitary table in the corner where he sat nursing a cigarette and a cup of coffee. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She knew she was fascinating. A vibrant, attractive woman, full of energy and high spirits. Who wouldn’t watch her? Who wouldn’t want her?

She said something to Ash and then laughed, tossing her head back, filling the place with her ringing merriment. Dee loved her laugh; it was so free, so honest. She hated people who tittered behind their hands. Dee let the whole world know she was amused, god damn it, and if it was too loud for some people, then to hell with them. They didn’t know how to have a good time. If there was anything Dee did know, it was how to have a good time. She was even having a good time right this minute, watching Ash spill taco and salsa on himself. She knew the secret of joy. Some book had come out with a title like that The Secret of Joy. and Dee had read it to see if the author was someone like herself. But she hadn’t known what she was talking about, and after a few pages Dee had thrown the book across the room in disgust. The real secret, the only secret, was to just let yourself. If you wanted to laugh, then laugh, god damn it. Laugh as if you meant it and screw all the poker-faced killjoys like that toad of a cashier who was looking at Dee as if she had her tit caught in the cash register. The man in the corner knew what she was laughing about. She could see him smiling from the corner of her eye. She could tell he was caught and mesmerized by her.

“Dee,” Ash said, sounding worried again. He looked at her with concern, bits of tomato and shredded lettuce spilling from the taco.

There was a bar at the restaurant just a few doors down. Dee had made note of it as soon as they entered the mall.

“Ash, I want you to walk home,” she said.

His eyes went wide.

“You work your face like a clown,” she said lightly.

“Sorry,” Ash said.

“Don’t apologize. I like it; it makes you easy to read.” She patted him on the cheek.

“Walk home?”

“Don’t act like you’ve never done it before. You know how to do it. Go out of the mall and turn left.”

“Left,” he said, concentrating.

“Turn left and just keep walking until you get to the motel. You know the name of our motel, don’t you?”

“Okay,” said Ash.

“Okay nothing. What is it?”

Ash furrowed his brow and she laughed again. “You wouldn’t even have to paint the creases and lines on the way clowns do,” she said merrily. She glanced to see if the man in the corner was appreciating her good humor. He smiled and inclined his head slightly. Dee looked at him as if he had startled her with his familiarity, as if she had only now become aware of him and wasn’t at all certain how to take such boldness.

Ash saw the exchange and knew why he was walking home. He would be spending another night outside the room, listening to Dee and some stranger. But mostly to Dee, her laughter, her shouts of exuberance, her ecstatic screams at the end. It hurt him so much to listen to her, to see her behaving this way for the benefit of the strange man in the corner, to know she was giving herself to someone else.

“What is it?” she was saying.

“Nothing,” he said, thinking she was inquiring about his thoughts. She would figure it out on her own soon enough. She always did, but it hurt him even more to tell her how much it hurt.

“Nothing? That’s a strange name for a motel.”

“Oh.” So she was not reading his mind. That happened sometimes when she was this happy. She seemed to lose her magical wisdom when she was this way.

“Days Inn?” he guessed.

“Daybreak,” she corrected him. “Daybreak Motel. Got it?”

Ash nodded.

“Say it.”

“Daybreak Motel. Daybreak. I turn left and stay on the highway till I get to Daybreak Motel.”

“That a boy. You’ll do just fine. Now pop the rest of that muck into your mouth and off you go.”

Ash rose dutifully and let her swipe once at his face with a napkin.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Never better,” she said. “Don’t worry about a thing; we’ve got the world by its ying-yang.”

Ash smiled. He thought the word was funny even if her mood frightened him.

“Now scoot,” she said.

“Daybreak?”

“Stop stalling and go on.”

Ash shambled out the door, looking back at her once with that face of a mourner, and Dee waved goodbye to make sure the man in the corner understood that she was now alone.

She stayed at the table for a few minutes more to emphasize the separation. She opened her compact and checked her makeup, holding the mirror at an angle so that she could see the man’s reflection. He was still studying her, of course. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Now he raised his hand and wiggled his fingers in a greeting. The gesture looked silly in the mirror, weak, feminine. Dee hoped he wasn’t one of those, but if he was, there were lots more fish in the sea and she was just about the best bait they were likely to come across.

Dee started out of the taco shop and paused once to look back at the man. She held his eyes fully and smiled. He smiled back. Dee saw no point in being too subtle about these matters. It just wasted time.

The bar portion of the restaurant was noisy and she could hear the music and the sound of voices spilling out as soon as she stepped from the Mexican place. At this time of night most of the shops were closed except for the food pavilion and the individual restaurants, so a little more noise would get no complaint from neighboring merchants.

Dee had time to order a white wine and study the men on either side of her before the man from the restaurant showed up. The other men looked passable enough, provided they were in proper working order-so many men were not these days-but she still preferred her friend from the restaurant. He was a little younger than the other two, a little cuter, and he did not sport a gold chain. Dee had long since despaired of men who wore gold chains as hopeless to talk to and useless in bed.

“Is your-uh-friend gone?” he asked.

Dee looked at him, then around the room, then back to him. “I like to think I have friends wherever I go,” she said.

“I’ll bet you do, too. I just didn’t want to intrude if your friend was coming back. He’s one big bruiser; I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.”

“He’s gone home,” she said.

“And left a pretty lady like yourself all alone?”

“He’s never much company at the best of times,” she said. “I like a man who can express himself. Can you express yourself, Lyle?”

“Edgar,” he corrected her.

“You’re not one of these strong, silent types, are you? Although you look strong. I like strength, but not silence. I like to know how a man is feeling. I like some noise.”

“I thought you might. When I saw you in the restaurant, I said to myself, there’s a very pretty woman who is not afraid of a little noise. I’ll bet she’s pretty noisy herself. Under the right circumstances.”

“Are you the right circumstances, Lyle?”

He grinned, a lop-sided affair that dragged his face to the left and narrowed his eyes. Dee realized he thought it was his sexy look.

“You better believe it,” he said. He leaned closer to her. Dee grasped a hair from his chest and yanked it free from the skin.

“Hey!”

“Just checking,” said Dee. “You are going to be noisy, aren’t you?”

Ash trudged along the highway, keeping his head down so the approaching headlights would not blind him. The gusts of wind created by passing trucks were strong enough to rock him, and many of the motorists honked at him even though he was not on the road. He could hear their bleeps dropping downscale as they raced away, still angered and startled by his appearance in a night they had assumed was ordered just for them and the traffic.

It was always a bad sign when she sent him home alone. He knew she still had her pills, he had checked only two days ago. Maybe he should count them, he thought. Maybe she had them but wasn’t taking them. She was feeling too good; she had too much energy and too much enthusiasm. Something was bound to disappoint her eventually. If nothing else, then Ash himself. And when she was disappointed she would crash from where she was now. She would fall as fast and as far as the eagles fell when they swooped down for a rabbit. Ash loved to watch them on the nature shows on television, the way the great birds just folded their wings and plummeted straight down from the clouds. Watching the birds was exhilarating, but watching Dee was terrifying. Like the birds that always rose up once more triumphantly clutching a fish or a hare. Dee would rise again with her prey in her talons.

Lights behind him flashed bright and dim, bright and dim, and he heard a horn blaring a tattoo of recognition. Dee’s car flashed by and he caught a glimpse of her waving hand, her smiling face illuminated by the beams of the car behind her. She blew him a kiss, still honking as she sped away toward the motel.

The man from the restaurant was in the car behind Dee. Ash saw his puzzled look as he stared at Ash momentarily before he, too, raced away into the darkness toward the motel.

“See you later, Lyle,” Ash said. His voice was drowned out by the whoosh of air, the squeal of tires on pavement.

Ash put his head down and trudged on.

Edgar decided she could call him Lyle-or Heathcliff or Geronimo-if she wanted to. The original Lyle seemed to be her husband, or her father-Edgar was not certain which-but he certainly wasn’t going to keep correcting her and risk queering his luck. He worked as a sales representative for a sportswear firm and spent half of the year on the road, servicing accounts. Occasionally he got lucky and was able to service some of the ladies who worked in the stores as well-or women he would pick up like this one. When he did get lucky he often gave them free tennis shirts from his samples as a token of his affection. From the look of things so far with this lady, however, a tennis shirt would never suffice. He would bestow her with shirts, shoes, warm-up suit, the whole outfit. He hadn’t just gotten lucky this time: he had won the lottery.

She had his shirt off of him before the door was closed. She seemed game for anything and Edgar hoped he would have enough imagination to take advantage of the opportunity.

She threw her arms around his waist and pressed her face into his chest. The strength of her embrace surprised him. She was not small but she was no giant, either, yet when she squeezed him it took his breath away. Suddenly she was lifting him off the floor, her face still in his chest, and she twirled him with a few staggering steps. When she put him down she pulled her face away and looked up at him. She was smiling, grimacing really, with his chest hairs in her clenched teeth.

“Hey!”

“What are you, a baby?” she said. “Is um baby?”

“You’re kind of hyper, aren’t you? Let’s take it slow.”

“Is um baby?” she mocked. She stroked his chest. “Did I hurt ums? Did I hurt baby?”

“I guess I’ll live,” he said. “You just surprised me.” It was his first opportunity to glance around the room. He halfhoped to see a trapeze or some other device of exotic erotica. Whatever it was, whatever she had in mind, he would try it. Edgar felt he had spent half a lifetime thinking about the more advanced and complicated techniques of sex that he was only dimly aware existed. He was never precise in his mind about the details and he had always lacked the confidence to experiment. The things he wanted to do seemed embarrassing, unreasonable-almost rude-and he could not bring himself to ask his normal bedmates to try them. Especially not his wife, whom he would have to face again in the cold light of day. But with this woman, this Dee, he knew he would not have to ask permission for anything. In fact, it might be all he could do just to hang on.

“I know what baby needs,” she said. She pulled her blouse over her head without undoing the buttons. She wore no bra. Her breasts were small and firm and she arched her back as if she were proud of them. He thought she should be. Her ribs showed against her skin, and with her back bowed her belly sucked inward the way it did in statues. She was not small of bone; her shoulders were broad and her hips flared distinctly from her waist, but she was lean and strong. Edgar loved them lean. He liked to feel as if he could lift and move his women when he needed to; he liked to feel in control.

“Does um want some?”

“I do,” he said and put his hands on her biceps as he lowered his head. The muscles were firm under his fingers.

She moaned loudly as he took the breast in his mouth. Edgar knew he was going to love this. He sucked her breast briefly, switched to the other one, heard her gasp with pleasure, and reached for the zipper of her skirt.

“I’m going to take good care of you,” he murmured. He buried his face in her neck as he fumbled with her skirt.

“Shut up,” she said. She took his head in her hands and placed it back on her breast. “I’ll tell you when you’re done.”

Ash reached the motel after an hour’s walk. He saw the Daybreak sign, mouthed it aloud to himself, and turned into the courtyard. Their room was on the corner. Dee always took a corner room if possible. It cut their neighbors in half, she explained. Ash had tried to visualize their neighbors being cut in two, but the images always led to thoughts of violence and blood and he soon stopped trying to understand what she meant.

The curtains were only partially drawn and the lights within the room were on. Ash peered in and saw Dee on the floor on all fours. The Lyle was behind her, thrusting at her. Dee’s teeth were bared as if she were snarling and he could hear her calling.

Ash did not want to watch. He sat on the hard concrete stoop in front of the motel room door.

“Daddy, oh. Daddy!” he heard her call. “Yes, Daddy! Come on, Daddy!”

Ash covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to think about the last good time with Dee. It was just last night when she was beginning to be happy, but she wasn’t yet too happy the way she was today. He was watching one of his nature shows. A snake had encountered a frog that, instead of hopping for its life, had inflated itself twice its size and risen on its legs. It seemed too large for the snake, but the snake knew better. Ash was taken by the stupefied look on the frog’s face as it was being swallowed. It showed no alarm, no fear, just a stupid wonderment.

“See that?” Dee had said. “It doesn’t even care.”

Ash had liked having her watch the show with him. She so often wasn’t home or wasn’t in the mood, but last night she had chosen to spend her time with him, just hanging around the room, watching television and commenting on things they saw. It was the kind of time they had together so seldom.

When the thoughts of last night could no longer drown out Dee’s yells. Ash started to do pushups. In the exercise yard many of the men had done pushups to kill the time and Ash had become the best of all. He did them now, easing himself down until his nose touched the concrete before pushing up again, scrupulously avoiding any use of his legs, which he knew was cheating. He worked until sweat poured from his face and his arms trembled with the effort.

Dee had stopped screaming and now he heard the sound of voices in conversation.

Edgar lay back on the bed, convinced he was going to die, but, as the old saw had it, what a way to go. She was all he had hoped for-imaginative, indefatigable, multi-orgasmic-and loud as hell. He did not have to guess how matters were proceeding; she let him know at the top of her lungs.

And was he ever doing well. He’d always suspected he was pretty good at this sex business, but he now realized he was a champion. He had pleasured her until she could no longer move. She lay beside him, drenched in sweat, exhausted and satisfied deeply enough to last a normal woman a month. Edgar could not resist a smug smile of self-congratulation as he stared at the ceiling. He’d certainly given her more than she had bargained for.

He would have to get this woman’s phone number. He would be back in the area in a month’s time, and she was certainly worth a repeat visit. There were a few variations he had been tempted to try and would certainly get around to them next time. He had also learned a few new wrinkles, which he would use with his wife. They weren’t apt to work, of course, because they relied on a certain level of enthusiasm, and enthusiasm was a quality his wife lacked-in spades. But if he had ever entertained thoughts that her shy reserve-not to say torpor-was in any way his fault, he could certainly dismiss those suspicions now. He had just driven this woman crazy. And she was a bright, good-looking woman, too; the kind of woman who could have just about any man she wanted. She had wanted Edgar-and he had just proven that she had made the right choice.

Edgar could not remember when he had felt more gratified after a bout with a relative stranger-or less inclined to bolt out the door after the passion was gone. Still, it was late; he had to work in the morning and he had already lain beside her for several minutes. She could not reasonably take offense if he left now.

He made a show of looking at his watch.

“My God, is it that late?” he said, sitting up abruptly. She put her hand on his naked thigh.

“I had no idea,” he said.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked. She had that edge to her voice that he had heard once or twice when they were hot at it. He had chosen to ignore it then, chalking it up to the heat of passion, but he had not liked it then and he liked it even less now.

“It’s late,” he said. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, pulling away from the hand on his thigh. “I’ve got to go.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” she said.

He understood the sentiment. Naturally she would want to hang on to him. That’s how women were; they never knew when to let go. But damn, he didn’t like that demanding tone. It made him angry.

“I’ve got to run,” he said. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“You’re not done,” she said.

He chose to laugh even though he wanted to belt her one. So aggressive, so demanding.

“I’m done,” he said. He gave her a big smile and a wink. “For now. There’s always next time.”

“You may be done,” she said, rising to her knees on the bed.

She really was a good-looking woman, Edgar thought, even though he found her nudity mildly embarrassing without the lust to justify it. Most women would not look all that good to him after sex, not in the harsh light of the motel room. Their breasts would sag or their tummies shake or their thighs would bulge. They had moles and veins and stretch marks, none of which fit the perfection of the women in magazines, which had formed his notion of feminine beauty. Most women felt better to Edgar than they looked. But this woman really did look good. Her stomach went in, her breasts seemed almost boastfully upright. What a shame that she was turning into a bitch.

“You seemed pretty done to me,” he said, hoping she would join his chuckle. He didn’t want a scene.

“You may be done, but you’re not finished,” she said.

Edgar picked up his shirt from the floor. She scrambled off the bed and stood between him and the door.

“Are you kidding? I just gave you enough for six women. You ought to be grateful for what you got.”

“I’ll be the judge of what I got, and it was precious little,” she said. She yanked the shirt out of his hand.

“I’ve never had any complaints before,” said Edgar.

“You got some now,” she said. “Get back on the bed.” She pushed him on the chest. The edge of the bed caught him on the back of the knees and he tumbled backward.

She was atop him, her hand between his legs, pulling impatiently at him.

“Get it up,” she said.

“Christ, what’s the matter with you?” he demanded, trying to twist away but being constrained by her forearm on his chest and the hand in his crotch.

“Get it up,” she repeated. “Play with it.”

“You play with it. That’s not my job.”

“You’ve done it often enough,” she said. “Play with it, get it up.”

He squirmed underneath her, afraid to make a maximum effort to get her off for fear that she was stronger than he was.

“Cut it out. That’s enough for one night. I’ll come back tomorrow and we’ll get it on again.”

“Do it now!” she exclaimed. She took his hand and clapped it between his legs. “Do as you’re told.”

She lost her leverage when she moved and Edgar managed to roll to the side, pushing her off.

“Christ!” He started to rise and was halfway up when she grabbed him from behind, pulling him back. He jerked forward and her nails ripped down his back.

“You stupid bitch!”

He turned and slapped her hard across the face. Blood was already coming from her nose by the time she sat up again. The look on her face was so savage that he recoiled in anticipation of an assault, but she stood without a word and walked into the bathroom.

Edgar hurried to get dressed.

“You made me do that,” he called over his shoulder toward the bathroom. He hopped on one foot, trying to draw his trousers on while holding his underwear. He could put on the underwear later.

“I’m not the kind of guy who hits women,” he said. “But Jesus, you’ve got to calm down. Enough is enough, you know?”

He heard her moving about in the bathroom. Her movements sounded as hurried as his own. The door of the medicine cabinet opened and closed.

“I’m willing to just forget this,” he said, looking for his shoe.

She came out of the bathroom with the blood from her nose running past her chin and dripping onto her chest. She seemed completely unaware of it as she once more stood between him and the door.

“You thinking of going?” she asked.

He saw his shoe against the wall just behind her. Something told him not to bend over to get it and expose his back to her again. But what was he afraid of? A stark-naked woman standing defenselessly between him and the door. She was armed with a slightly demented look in her eyes, but apart from that he should be able to get her out of his way with a well-placed kick.

“Yeah, I’m going,” he said. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

“You’re quite a disappointment,” she said, not moving.

“Well, there you go,” he said. “I had a great time. You’re a very sexy lady, but you never know how these things are going to work out.”

He found it very disconcerting that she continued to ignore the blood that dripped from her nose. It trickled slowly down her torso toward her pubic patch. It was eerie that someone could so totally disregard an injury to herself.

“I tell you what,” she said, “since you don’t know how to use that thing of yours, you don’t really need it, do you?”

“What?”

“Why don’t you just leave it behind here with me. You’ll be better off without it. That way you won’t be making any more promises you can’t keep.”

Edgar thought he might very well leave without his shoe. She was getting weirder by the moment.

“What are you talking about?”

“You said you were going to take good care of me,” she said. “You promised.”

“Hey, I tried. You happen to have a little problem there.”

“You disappointed me,” she said. “Everyone is always disappointing me, and frankly. I’m getting just a little tired of it.”

She lifted her right hand to waist height. The thumb and forefinger were clasped around something.

“Come here, sweetie.” she said. “We’re going to relieve you of that thing that’s causing you all that trouble, and then you can run home to your mother.”

Edgar peered at her hand. She held a razor blade between her fingers.

“I told you to come here,” she said, her voice suddenly stem. “Do as you’re told. This instant.”

Dee took a step toward him and Edgar kicked out in panic, aiming for her crotch. His toes struck her in the abdomen and she tumbled forward. The razor blade fell from her fingers and Edgar picked it up off the carpet. She was on all fours, gasping for breath. He had half a mind to slash her on her exposed back just to show her how it would feel.

“You’re crazy!” he yelled at her. “You’re out of your mind!”

She muttered something he did not understand. He leaned over her, his mouth close to her ear.

“You’re crazy! You ought to be locked up!”

Her head hung down like a defeated animal and the blood dripped from her nose directly onto the carpet.

She muttered something again. Edgar bent closer, holding the razor blade as a weapon in case the crazy bitch tried to bite him or something else insane.

“What?”

She caught her breath.

“You think I’m crazy?” she said. She tilted her head up to look him in the face. She sounded amused. The blood ran over her lips, but she still did not seem to notice.

“I know you’re crazy,” he said.

He grabbed the door and yanked it open. The huge man from the restaurant whom he had seen trudging along the highway sat on the stoop in front of the door like a dog awaiting its master.

“You think I’m crazy?” she said.

The man stood up, blocking Edgar’s way.

Edgar looked from the man to Dee, who had rolled into a sitting position. He wanted to suggest that things had gone far enough, that he had meant no harm, that there was no need to carry things farther. Edgar tried to grin at her, to demonstrate his good will, his certainty that she bore him no real hard feelings.

Dee looked at him and smiled beatifically. The blood was smudged across her stomach where he had kicked her and the entire lower half of her face now seemed to have been painted red. When she spoke her teeth were smeared.

“He hurt me. Ash,” she said.

Ash grabbed Edgar by the throat and squeezed. Edgar managed to slash at him once with the razor blade before his body was hurled against the wall.

After Ash put the man in the trunk of his car he returned to the room to clean up the mess. Dee was curled up on the bed, still naked, her knees pressed to her chest, her face to the wall.

“We have to go, Dee,” he said. He put all of her clothes into the suitcase, folding them carefully as she had taught him.

“I just want to sleep,” she said. Her voice was so sad that Ash wanted to cry for her.

He put his extra shirt atop her clothes, then went to the bathroom to add their toiletries to the suitcase.

“We have to go before they come,” Ash said.

“I just want to sleep.” Her voice was low and fading, as if she were already deep in slumber. He knew she would be like this for several days, immobilized by lethargy, too depressed to even dress or feed herself. He had to get her away from the motel before she sank too deeply to be roused.

He checked her purse and made sure that her pills and his were still there. He tried to remember how many capsules had been in her vial the last time he checked, but he could not. She must not have taken any in several days, he knew that much. There was no point in trying to make her take one now. He knew from experience he would have to trick one into her somehow, but not when she was this low, and not when she was too high, either. She was too clever then. It was only when she would come out of this depression of her own accord, when she was on the way up but not yet high, and ravenously hungry after days of starvation, that he could slip one of the capsules into her food. After that she would take them herself. For a while. Never for long enough, but at least for a while.

Until she did come out of her depression enough to find them a place to stay, they would have to live in the car. Ash could never check into a motel by himself, he knew that. They would all surely know about him immediately. They would be able to tell as soon as he opened his mouth that he was not competent, that he was not to be trusted. They would laugh at him, or worse, send for the authorities to take care of him.

So he would have to wait until Dee could take care of both of them. He would find a rest stop on the highway where he could get food from the vending machines and water from the toilet facilities, and he would stay there and protect her. It wouldn’t matter to Dee where they were when she was in the worst of it. Any place with shelter would do until she returned to herself to take care of him.

Getting a washcloth to clean the blood from the carpet and the wall, he saw his reflection in the mirror and stared, surprised, at the cut that ran from his cheekbone to his jawline. It was shallow and hairline-thin, and the blood had already dried. He wasn’t aware that the Lyle had cut him. He hadn’t felt a thing.

He only managed to spread the smear on the wall, and the carpet seemed to have absorbed Dee’s blood like a sponge. Ash looked at the washcloth. His blood from the wall and Dee’s from the floor were mixed together into a brownish stain on the cloth. He liked the idea that their blood was mingled.

“We’re packed. Dee,” he said, approaching the bed with the washcloth rinsed and wet again. He rolled her over and began to dab at the blood that had dried on her face. Ash tried not to look at her naked body. It aroused him and it also embarrassed him.

With a sob. Dee threw her arms around his neck and pulled him onto her.

She nipped his ear with her teeth and then whispered directly into it so that Ash felt the effect in his groin, as if her warm breath was traveling all the way through him.

“Come on. Ash,” she whispered. “Come on.”

One hand held his neck and the other was already reaching between their bodies, fumbling with his belt.

Ash squeezed his eyes closed. He was so grateful. First that she was not as far gone as he had feared-although he knew it was just a matter of time-and second that she wanted him again. It was so seldom these days; there had been such a long succession of Lyles since last she had needed Ash.

He did not resist her in any way, but let her use him as she desired. It was the way she preferred it, and he preferred whatever she wanted.

With his eyes shut he imagined her as a bird, a large and beautiful and dangerous bird, graceful and effortless in flight, remorseless in pursuit. Lethal and lovely. She was an eagle.

He was a bear, lurking in a cave. Bears hid. They did terrible things, too. They killed, they clawed and bit, but they hid-because they were afraid. The eagles never hid, she was never afraid. There was nothing in the world that could hurt her. The eagle never hid, never stalked, never lay in wait. She circled overhead, seeking her prey with an eye that could see forever. She could see the terror in the rabbit’s eye from afar and had but to fold her wings to be upon it before it could move.

She could even attack a bear. She could rip him apart with her talons, skewer his eyes, grab his heart. To Ash, a bear was helpless before an eagle. He could not hear her approach as she plummeted from on high, he could not see her before she was upon him with her terrible grace and beauty. He could do awful things with his strength, but never to the eagle. He was powerless under the eagle’s attack.

He felt the eagle upon him, the flutter of the giant wings, the caress of feathers, the ripping of his fur and hide with beak so razor-sharp it gave no pain. His flesh opened out to her as if in blossom and she fed upon him.

And then he heard the beauty of her song ringing out, filling the cave and reverberating off the walls with the richness of her joy.

“Oh. Daddy,” she sang. “Come on, Daddy. Daddy!”