Read Online Rose Eagle by Joseph Bruchac - Free Book Online

me, and I simply did not know how to react to it. How are girls supposed to act around guys they have a crush on? I turned away and began to look around the building for the best place to spend the night.
    Phil, though, was the one who found it.
    â€œRose,” he called from the far end of the building, “How about this?”
    He was standing on the operator’s platform of the biggest lev. The platform itself was so big that there was a whole room up there that held not just the control panel but two wide padded chairs. Manual handles on each seat dropped the chair backs and turned them into the equivalent of cots. It meant we’d be sleeping side by side an arm’s length from each other. Or, in my case, trying to sleep.
    â€œGood?” Phil asked.
    â€œI guess,” I said. For a moment I thought about finding a separate place for me to sleep. But even inside the assumed safety of this building, sleeping apart would not be the smart thing to do. In this new dangerous world, anything could happen. We had to stay together.
    Though there were some things we did need to do in private. Each of us went outside and did those things before darkness fell. We also gathered wood for a fire. Phil took out his propane lighter, which was just like the one I carried. Leftovers from the past — there had been boxes of those lighters in a storage unit in Big Cave. Fire was one thing unaffected by the Silver Cloud, just as long as starting it did not involve electricity. I’d also learned what was, before the Cloud, the useless skill of starting a fire with a bow drill. But why bother when you can just flick down your thumb and get a flame?
    We set up our fire circle just a few feet from the door, which fortunately could also be padlocked from the inside. We sat around the fire for a while, eating the food from our packs, drinking the tea we made with water boiled over the fire. Its light cast strange shadows around the building, but for some reason I was not feeling afraid. Sitting next to Phil, I was feeling as close to content as I’d felt in years. The badger had come out and curled up in my lap and I was petting it absentmindedly.
    Then, a faraway look in his eyes, Phil began to sing in a soft musical voice.
    â€œWalked along the dry river bed,
    thinking of all the things she said,
    how she always took me by surprise.
    â€œWay-a-hey Way-a-hey a-hey
    Way-a-hey Way-a-hey a-hey
    Way-a-hey Way-a-hey Way-a-hey a-hey
    â€œHer long hair, it moved with the breeze,
    made me long for more times like these,
    looking into her dark Lakota eyes.”
    It was such a nice song. And his voice was good singing it. It sort of hypnotized me, listening to it, taking me to such a peaceful place.
    â€œI never heard that song before,” I said.
    I hadn’t meant to say anything. The words just came out.
    â€œI made it up,” Phil said. “You like it?”
    He made it up. Jeez! Probably for some other girl back at the Ridge, one of those pretty little things who were always smiling at him. One of the girls who’d always made fun of me for being so big.
    I stood up, more abruptly than I meant to, spilling my badger friend out of my lap.
    â€œI’m . . . I’m tired,” I said. I went to the lev-truck, climbed up, threw myself onto the reclined chair I’d chosen, and covered myself with the thin thermal blanket from my pack. With the blanket over my head, I pretended to be asleep when Phil joined me on the other chair.
    But I wasn’t asleep. Too many confusing thoughts were wrestling with each other in my head. I heard a scraping of claws against metal, a weight on my legs, and then the badger burrowed his furry muscular little body under my blanket with me. Apparently I was forgiven for the unceremonious way I had flopped him off my lap. That was when I finally drifted off — with the words of Phil’s damn sweet song echoing in my mind.

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