Read Online Mind of My Mind by Octavia E. Butler - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Octavia E. Butler
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better chance."
"I thought Doro would tell you how to help me."
"No, I think half Doro's pleasure comes from watching us, running us through mazes
like rats and seeing how well we figure things out."
"Sure," she said. "What are a few rat lives?" She took a deep breath. "And, speaking
of lives, Karl, don't help me unless I'm about to lose mine. Let me try to get through this
on my own."
"I'll do whatever seems necessary as you progress," he said. "You're going to have to
trust my judgment. I've been through this already."
"Yeah, you've been through it," she said. He saw her hands tighten into fists as
something clutched at her mind before she could finish. But she managed to get a few
more words out. "And you went through it on your own. Alone."
She struggled all evening, all night, and well into the next morning. During her few
lucid moments he tried to show her how to interpose her own mind shield between
herself and the world outside, how to control her ability and regain the mental peace that
she had not known for months. That was what he had had to learn to bring his own
transition to an end. If she didn't want his protection, perhaps he could at least show her
how to protect herself.
But she did not seem to be able to learn.
She was growing weaker and wearier. Dangerously weary. She seemed ready to sink
into oblivion with the unfortunate people whose thoughts possessed her. She had passed
out a few times, earlier. Now, though, he was afraid to let her go again. She was too
weak. He was afraid she might never regain consciousness.
He lay beside her on the bed listening to her ragged breathing, knowing that she was
with a fifteen-year-old boy somewhere in Los Angeles. The boy was being methodically
beaten to death by three older boys—members of a rival gang.
Just watching the things she had to live through was sickening. Why couldn't she pick
up the simple shielding technique?
She started to get up from the bed. Her self-control was all but gone. She was moving
as the boy moved miles away. He was trying to get up from the ground. He didn't know
what he was doing. Neither did she.
Karl caught her and held her down, thankful, not for the first time that night, that she
was small. He managed to catch her hands before she could slash him again with her
nails. The blood was hardly dry on his face where she had scratched him before. He held
her, pinning her with his weight, waiting for it to end.
Then, abruptly, he was tired of waiting. He opened his mind to the experience and
took the finish of the beating himself.
When it was over, he stayed with her, ready to take anything else that might sweep
her away. Even now she was stubborn enough not to want him there, but he no longer
cared what she wanted. He brushed aside her wordless protests and tried to show her
again how to erect shielding of her own. Again he failed. She still couldn't do it.
But after a while, she seemed to be doing something.
Staying with her mentally, Karl opened his eyes and moved away from her body.
Something was happening that he did not understand. She had not been able to learn from
him, but she was using him somehow. She had ceased to protest his mental presence. In
fact, her attention seemed to be on something else entirely. Her body was relaxed. Her
thoughts were her own, but they were not coherent. He could make no sense of them. He
sensed other people with her mentally, but he could not reach them even clearly enough
to identify them.
"What are you doing?" he asked aloud. He didn't like having to ask.
She didn't seem to hear him.
1 asked what you were doing! He gave her his annoyance with the thought.
Mary noticed him then, and somehow drew him closer to her. He seemed to see her
arms reaching out, her hands grasping him, though her body did not move. Suddenly
suspicious, he tried to break contact with her.
"I thought Doro would tell you how to help me."
"No, I think half Doro's pleasure comes from watching us, running us through mazes
like rats and seeing how well we figure things out."
"Sure," she said. "What are a few rat lives?" She took a deep breath. "And, speaking
of lives, Karl, don't help me unless I'm about to lose mine. Let me try to get through this
on my own."
"I'll do whatever seems necessary as you progress," he said. "You're going to have to
trust my judgment. I've been through this already."
"Yeah, you've been through it," she said. He saw her hands tighten into fists as
something clutched at her mind before she could finish. But she managed to get a few
more words out. "And you went through it on your own. Alone."
She struggled all evening, all night, and well into the next morning. During her few
lucid moments he tried to show her how to interpose her own mind shield between
herself and the world outside, how to control her ability and regain the mental peace that
she had not known for months. That was what he had had to learn to bring his own
transition to an end. If she didn't want his protection, perhaps he could at least show her
how to protect herself.
But she did not seem to be able to learn.
She was growing weaker and wearier. Dangerously weary. She seemed ready to sink
into oblivion with the unfortunate people whose thoughts possessed her. She had passed
out a few times, earlier. Now, though, he was afraid to let her go again. She was too
weak. He was afraid she might never regain consciousness.
He lay beside her on the bed listening to her ragged breathing, knowing that she was
with a fifteen-year-old boy somewhere in Los Angeles. The boy was being methodically
beaten to death by three older boys—members of a rival gang.
Just watching the things she had to live through was sickening. Why couldn't she pick
up the simple shielding technique?
She started to get up from the bed. Her self-control was all but gone. She was moving
as the boy moved miles away. He was trying to get up from the ground. He didn't know
what he was doing. Neither did she.
Karl caught her and held her down, thankful, not for the first time that night, that she
was small. He managed to catch her hands before she could slash him again with her
nails. The blood was hardly dry on his face where she had scratched him before. He held
her, pinning her with his weight, waiting for it to end.
Then, abruptly, he was tired of waiting. He opened his mind to the experience and
took the finish of the beating himself.
When it was over, he stayed with her, ready to take anything else that might sweep
her away. Even now she was stubborn enough not to want him there, but he no longer
cared what she wanted. He brushed aside her wordless protests and tried to show her
again how to erect shielding of her own. Again he failed. She still couldn't do it.
But after a while, she seemed to be doing something.
Staying with her mentally, Karl opened his eyes and moved away from her body.
Something was happening that he did not understand. She had not been able to learn from
him, but she was using him somehow. She had ceased to protest his mental presence. In
fact, her attention seemed to be on something else entirely. Her body was relaxed. Her
thoughts were her own, but they were not coherent. He could make no sense of them. He
sensed other people with her mentally, but he could not reach them even clearly enough
to identify them.
"What are you doing?" he asked aloud. He didn't like having to ask.
She didn't seem to hear him.
1 asked what you were doing! He gave her his annoyance with the thought.
Mary noticed him then, and somehow drew him closer to her. He seemed to see her
arms reaching out, her hands grasping him, though her body did not move. Suddenly
suspicious, he tried to break contact with her.
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