Every Boy Should Have a Man by Preston L. Allen

but I thought I heard a baby. She had hidden her behind her body to keep her from my sight.”
    His father said, “Well, now, this is bad. She broke out of her proper kennel and broke into their house again. This is very bad.”
    “They’re coming again. You know that they are coming,” said his mother frantically. “How much more of this can I take?”
    “What are we going to do?” asked the boy.
    “There’s nothing we can do now but wait,” said his father.
    The female man had her hands out and the boy placed her baby gently into them. The baby made contented sounds as it received milk from its mother.
    There was still food on the table, but nobody was eating as they watched the female man nurse her baby and then rock her to sleep.
    There was still food on the table, and after a while the boy’s mother got up and put everything away.
     
    * * *
     
    It was three days before they came.
    This time they took both the infant and its mother.
    When they brought her back late that night, her eyes were red from crying and both her hands were bandaged.
    The professional who brought her back had papers for the father to sign and instructions on what was to happen next.
    “You will be billed for the broken lock on the house she burgled. You will be billed for the medicals of those she bit. She bit the father, the mother, and their boy. They are nice people. They don’t deserve this,” he lectured. “And this is the bill for her medicals.” He handed the father a folded card and a bottle. “This is the medication for her hands. Do not remove the bandages for two days. When you do remove them, rub this ointment generously on the place where her thumbs used to be. The doctor says that she should be back to normal in about a week. One thing is for sure—she won’t be stealing other people’s property anymore.”
    They all heard the sound and looked up. The weeping female man was in the grand room plucking the strings of the small singing harp, but without thumbs she could not make it sing properly.
    The small singing harp sang, “Baabveee, baabveee, baabveee, baabveee.”
    It sounded vaguely like a song they knew. They could make out neither the tune nor the words, but it made them all very sad.
    She never touched the small singing harp again after that night.
    The wealthy boy continued to be the best friend of the poor boy, but his father would not let him keep his promise to have the female man come to visit and nurse her child.
    He explained, “My father says that she is dangerous. It would be bad to have her around the baby man. She might try to harm it.”
    After that the female man became deeply dejected, though she lived another four months—one full man year—before the boy found her unmoving and unbreathing on her bedding in her proper kennel.
    When they buried her in the backyard beside her proper kennel, the boy cried out, “Oh Red Sleeves, oh Red Sleeves.”
    The doctor said that she had died of a heart condition that was common among that breed.
    But the boy believed, and always would, that she had died of a heart that was simply and irreparably broken.
     
    * * *
     
    “We are the rulers of this earth, which the lord great creator did give us to rule. On earth there is none greater than we. That which we envision we can build. That which we desire we can have. All that we desire we can have. But should we have it all since we can have it all? Should we take it all? And if we take it all, then what becomes of it? And after it is gone, and there is no more, what becomes of us? No creature on earth can say us nay. We as wise stewards of the earth are the only creatures that can say us nay. We must learn to say us nay,” spake the sacred speaker.
    And the boy lowered his head to hide the wetness in his eyes.

4
    His Musical Man
    After the female man died, the wealthy boy told the poor, “The baby man is yours. You can come to my house every day and watch them feed her.”
    And the poor boy did visit