Comes the Blind Fury - By John Saul Page 0,1

no reply, only a giggle from somewhere to her right. In relief, she turned south, and began moving slowly homeward. But then a voice came from ahead of her.

“Look out! There’s a rock in the path!”

The girl stopped, and prodded at the path with her cane. She found nothing and took a step forward, pausing again to read the trail with her stick. Still nothing. She had let herself fall into their trap.

She began moving forward again, but when the same voice came at her out of the blackness, telling her she was about to stumble, she stopped again, and again examined the path with the tip of her cane.

This time, as she prodded at the trail, their laughter burst around her, and she knew she was in trouble.

There were four of them, and they had positioned themselves carefully, one ahead of her, one behind, and two more preventing her from leaving the trail to make her way across the field to the road.

She stood still, waiting.

“You can’t stand there forever,” a voice said to her, “Sooner or later you have to move, and when you do, you’re going to trip, and fall off the bluff.”

“Leave me alone!” the girl said. “Just leave me alone!”

She started to take a step, but again was stopped by a voice, warning her, mocking her.

“Not there—that’s the wrong way.”

It wasn’t the wrong way, she was sure of it. But how could she be sure? She was confused now, and beginning to be frightened.

The sea. If she could be sure which way the sea lay, she would know in which direction to go. She began turning, listening carefully. If the wind were blowing, it would be easy, but the air was still today, and the sound of the sea seemed to surround her, coming from every direction, mixing with the childish laughter of her tormentors, confusing her.

She would have to try. As long as she stood here, listening to them, letting them upset her, they would remain, enjoying their game.

Ignore them.

That’s what she must do. Simply ignore them.

The cane made an arc in front of her, then another. The nerves in her fingers read the smoothness of the trail, and the unevenness where the edge of the path blended into the field.

The girl made her decision and began walking.

Immediately the cries began.

“Watch out! There’s a rock right in front of you!”

“You’re going the wrong way. If you want to get home, you’d better turn around!”

“Not that way! You’ll fall off the edge.”

“So what if she does? She won’t even see what’s going to happen to her!”

“Put something in the path! Let’s see if she can figure out what it is!”

The girl ignored them and moved steadfastly along the path, her cane reading the way for her, assuring her she was making no mistake. Around her, the disembodied voices kept pace with her, taunting her, challenging her. She forced herself not to respond to them, telling herself that they would stop soon, give up, leave her alone.

And then one of the voices, a boy’s voice, cut through to her.

“Better not go home! Your mama might be having company!”

The girl froze. She stopped waving the stick in her hand, and it hung in the air, quivering uncertainly.

“Don’t say that.” The girl spoke quietly. “Don’t ever say that.”

The laughter stopped, and the girl wondered if perhaps the children had gone away.

They hadn’t Instead, their laughter grew uglier.

“Going home to see the whore?”

“Hurry home, and maybe your mother will teach you how to do it.”

“My mother says she should be run out of town!”

“My daddy says next time he has two dollars he’s coming to your house!”

“Stop it!” the girl screamed. “Don’t you say that! It isn’t true! It isn’t true!” Suddenly she raised the cane, took it in both hands, and began swinging it As it whistled in the air, the children’s taunts jabbed at her.

“Your mama’s a whore!”

“Your papa doesn’t care!”

“I heard he collects the money!”

“When I’m sixteen, can I visit your mother?”

The girl, her black dress swirling around her, the ribbons on her bonnet flying about her head, began moving toward the voices, the cane in her hands whipping back and forth, trying to silence their taunts. She stumbled, began to fall, then caught herself. All around her the voices sounded in her ears, ignoring her blindness now, and concentrating on the sins of her mother.

It wasn’t true.

She knew it. Her mother wouldn’t do what they were saying she did. Why would they say it? Why?