The Eyes and the Impossible: Chapters 9–18

Bertrand and Yolanda and Angus and Sonja were all there, as were an assortment of other birds and mammals, all telling the story over and over, laughing about Twisty and Pamela and Rainbow running around, wailing and flailing.

They counted on me for information about the park; if I could be so easily distracted, mesmerized to the point of becoming vulnerable to being leashed, would they still see me as a reliable envoy?

The Bison were very particular about their lair, and never wanted to bring undue attention to their way of life. If I were found in their lair, for example, the Parks People would come in, inspect things and probably change things, too.

As I shook free of the heavy cloak of sleep, scenes of my brief captivity flashed through my mind and I shuddered with revulsion.

I ran to the nearby meadow to take in the Sun—the Sun only wants you to bask; that is truly all she wants; it pleases her to no end—and in the meadow, with my eyes to the Sun, it seemed so obvious: the Bison needed to be free.

Over the years I had wondered if they wanted to be free like I was free, but because they never themselves mentioned it the notion did not much occupy my mind.

He was perched on a post on one side of the field. Watching. Assessing. Grinning.
“There are only six today,” he said. “Almost too easy.”

“You have your running. You take pride in your speed. And in your work as the Eyes. This is like that. It’s something I am good at, something that sends torrents of bliss through me.”

“If I had enough space, I’d run,” Meredith said defiantly.

“If I had enough room, I’d run,” Meredith said again, and loped slowly off to her corner of the enclosure.

She didn’t think I could do it. I didn’t know if the Assistants would feel the same way but I suspected they would. If Freya was dubious, the others would be, too.

It was complex, yes, and had never been done before, but my freedom from Twisty and his cohorts had been achieved with heroic inter-species cooperation, and that had been relatively improvisational.

But the beach was full of people and was so close to the Parks People and Police People, and Meredith or any Bison would be corralled and caught in no time, yes?

For weeks I spent all my free time in my tree-hollow, pondering, mulling, contemplating, planning.

Angus had hands very similar in shape and dexterity, so Angus would have to open the gate, which meant we’d need someone else to do the distraction.

This comment about the smell had been hurtful to me at the time, and he got upset with himself about saying something so callous, so we never talked of my lair smell again, but he never visited again, either.

And here I should say that of all the horrible things humans have created, the most maniacal and wrong of them all is this, this intermittent screaming sound as their vehicles go backward.

All beauty ends, all music ends, clouds cleave, hearts break, and all of the world nearby waits, with breath held, for the sound to end.

My legs compelled me, my feet moved without my asking them to.

I was moving through space slowly but steadily toward her, because sometimes my legs and feet have a kind of second brain, a kind of auxiliary intelligence that gets me out of trouble but in this case got me into trouble.

There was no preamble or prelude.

When she landed on the black water, her weight made a considerable splash, the plastic doll striking the surface with a high-pitched swack.

He was a human but could not discern what was happening, what I was doing, that it was a child I was saving.

What I’d contracted I didn’t know, but it gave me the sneezes and halved my energy.

Do not upset the humans’ version of the Equilibrium.
It did not mean that the turtles couldn’t leave their pond or that I couldn’t converse with the Bison.

It meant only that being too obvious or showy about any of these unexpected appearances would bring the Control-the-Animals people, and they were not to be trifled with.

I’d seen even the craftiest of the raccoons taken in minutes.

I listened to the rain grow from taps to slaps to the hush of rain when it comes in teeming hordes.

I suddenly felt suffocated, and surrounded, and this pile of pink was an affront, a smothering thing.

“We have thought this through a great deal. And we have come to a series of related conclusions. Can I enumerate them?”

“Lastly,” he said, “we have devised a brilliant disguise. We, your friends.”

If they had all gotten together and thought, collectively, about my well-being, about what would be best for me, how could I flout it?

For instance, I knew, before this day, that I was a breathtaking paragon of muscle and speed.

And now, when Bertrand brought a piece of glass before me—he’d planned it! he’d planned it!—I knew I was a ridiculous clown-dog clad in pink and fake diamonds.

For years I—and every free animal I knew—made glorious fun of these sweaters, and looked with pity upon the dogs who wore them.
But now that I had run in one, I knew that it did not inhibit my movement.

Bertrand is my brother, and we know each other and agree on most things, but this coda-madness I cannot abide.

I didn’t know how he could be so playful and wry after seeing Louis’s coda, but again, this particular gull-madness eluded me and I have chosen not to try to understand it.

I didn’t know how he could be so playful and wry after seeing Louis’s coda, but again, this particular gull-madness eluded me and I have chosen not to try to understand it.

There was a jagged boulder, though it seemed to be upside down, balancing precariously.

I weaved between legs, always watching every which way, tingling with a fear that one of them would have a leash and would leash me with it.
Finally I got clear of the throng and was in the open grass in front of the white-glass cathedral of flowers.