The roaring faded away. Hal's vision cleared.
'Are you serious?'
'Of course! I never dreamed, dreamed! Anything that I ever did to you was for you; when I punished you, my heart broke. But I drove myself to it by reminding myself that it was for your good.'
Hal laughed and laughed while Pornsen ran down the hall and disappeared into his apartment with a single white-faced look.
Weakly, shaking, Hal leaned against the doorway. This was the most unexpected thing of all. He had been absolutely certain that Pornsen loathed him as a contrary and unnatural monster and that he took a bitter delight in humiliating and whipping him.
Hal shook his head. Surely, the gapt was scared and was trying to justify himself.
He unlocked the door and entered. Around and around in his head flew the thought that the courage to speak out against Pornsen had come from Jeannette. Without her, he was nothing, a resentful but scared rabbit. A few hours with her had enabled him to overcome many years of rigid discipline.
He clicked on the front room lights. Looking beyond into the dining room, he could see the closed kitchen door. The rattling of pots came through it. He sniffed deeply.
Steak!
The pleasure was replaced by a frown. He'd told her to hide until he returned. What if he had been a wog or an Uzzite?
When the door swung open, the hinges squeaked. Jeannette's back was to him. At the first protest of unoiled iron, she whirled. The spatula in her hand dropped; the other hand flew to her open mouth.
The angry words on his lips died. If she were to be scolded now, she would probably break out in embarrassing tears.
'Maw choo! You startled me!'
He grunted and went by her to lift the lids on the pots.
'You see,' she said, her voice trembling as if she divined his anger and were defending herself. 'I have lived such a life, being afraid of getting caught, that anything sudden scares me. I am always ready to run.'
'How those wogs fooled me!' Hal said sourly. 'I thought they were so kind and gentle.'
She glanced at him out of the side of her large eyes. Her color had come back; her red lips smiled.
'Oh, they weren't so bad. They really were kind. They gave me everything I wanted, except my freedom. They were afraid I'd make my way back to my sisters.'
'What did they care?'
'Oh, they thought there might be some males of my race left in the jungle and that I might give them children. They are terribly frightened of my race becoming numerous and strong again and making war on them. They do not like war.'
'They are strange beings,' he said. 'But we cannot expect to understand those who do not know the reality of the Forerunner. Moreover, they are closer to the insect than to man.'
'Being a man does not necessarily mean being better,' Jeannette said with a tinge of asperity.
'All God's creatures have their proper place in the universe,' he replied. 'But man's place is everywhere and every when. He can occupy any position in space and can travel in any direction in time. And if he must dispossess a creature to gain that place or time, he is doing only what is right.'
'Quoting the Forerunner?'
'Of course.'
'Perhaps, he is right. Perhaps. But what is man? Man is a sentient being. A wog is a sentient being. Therefore, the wog is a man. Nespfa?'
'Shib or sib, let's not argue. Why don't we eat?'
'I wasn't arguing.'
She smiled and said, 'I will set the table. You will see if I can cook or not. There'll be no argument about that.'
After the dishes were placed on the table, the two sat down. Hal joined his hands together, put them on the table, bowed his head, and prayed.
'Isaac Sigmen, runner before man, real be your name, we thank you for having made certain this blessed present, which once was the uncertain future. We thank you for this food, which you have actualized from potentiality. We hope and know that you will slay the Backrunner, forestall his wicked attempts to unshake the past and so alter the present. Make this universe solid and real, and omit the fluidity of time. These selves gathered at this table thank you. So be it.'
He unfolded his hands and looked at Jeannette. She was staring at him.
Obeying an impulse, he said, 'You may pray if you wish.'
'Won't you regard my prayer as unreal?'
He hesitated before saying, 'Yes. I do not know why I asked you. I certainly would not ask an Israeli or Bantu to pray. I wouldn't eat at the same table with one. But you... you are special... maybe because unclassified. I... I do not know.'
'Thank you,' she said.
She described a triangle in the air with the middle finger of her right hand. Looking upward, she said, 'Great Mother, we thank you.'
Hal repressed showing the strange feeling it gave him to hear an unbeliever. He slid open the drawer beneath the table and took out two objects. One he handed to Jeannette. The other he put on his head.
It was a cap with a wide brim from which hung a long veil. It entirely covered his face.
'Put it on,' he said to Jeannette.
'Why?'
'So we can't see each other eat, of course,' he said impatiently. 'There is enough space between the veil and your face for you to manipulate your fork and spoon.'
'But why?'
'I told you. So we can't see each other eat.'
'Would the sight of me eating make you sick?' she said with a rising inflection.
'Naturally.'
'Naturally? Why naturally?'
'Why, eating is so... uh... I don't know... animalistic'
'And have your people always done this? Or did they begin when they found out they were animals?'