Thomas
eyed it suspiciously, unsure if she should touch it at all. Made of white
painted iron, sitting on a tread of black rubber, with two skis in front, this
was a 'Skidoo'? Waneeta seemed confident she could handle it, but it listed
badly to one side, and she would need help righting it. He quickly shed his
snowshoes for the task. Dubiously, Thomas grasped it and finding it heavier
than it looked, heaved it to set it right.
He scanned the area. "Is this where
you saw the meteorite?"
Waneeta looked around and pointed to a
tree. "It was up there. It flew over that way." She turned and
indicated east to west.
"How far away did it land?"
"Not too far. Less than quarter of
a mile. I think a chunk fell not far from here and the rest a ways further on.
Though I couldn't find it when I dropped it, so we may not find it now."
Thomas stared over the horizon line. It
was hard to believe it came so close to her when none of the trees showed any
scorching. But her 'Skidoo' must have, if her strange suit did. They'd need to
brush off the snow first.
Meanwhile, Waneeta scooped up a shiny
black helmet half hidden in the snow, and then walked toward Thomas. "What's
the matter? I know it's old, but it runs well. It'll need some cranking, I
imagine. I just hope the gas hasn't all drained out, but I don't smell
anything."
He couldn't imagine such a small
locomotive, but there it was. Did it run on a boiler? Or was it one of those
internal combustion engines he'd heard of? He wasn't an engineer, so he refused
to speculate. But still, he cringed inwardly. No doubt it would sound like the
devil himself when it finally started to work.
He watched Waneeta don the helmet, a
hard metal bowl like nothing he'd seen before. Out of her pocket, she then drew
a set of tiny keys and dangled them in front of him.
"Help me turn it around, first,
please. I know the ski is bent, but I should be able to drive it into the
village."
He helped her, and then backed off to
stand near the uprooted tree that had hindered her progress two nights ago.
"It'll be fine. Don't worry."
She smiled encouragingly at him, but he continued to stare oddly at the machine.
Waneeta shoved the key into the ignition. "It always takes a bit of
cranking to get the thing going, but it does run well."
Thomas stepped back. This he had to
watch.
As she cranked the engine, Waneeta wiped
off the seat. Under most of the snow was a fine layer of dust. Meteorite dust,
which soon smeared with the snow and she briefly wondered if she should be
saving the stuff for posterity.
Then she felt it, a peculiar sensation as
it flooded over her. That same indescribable nausea she'd felt watching the
meteorite crash and burn. It was so intense that she closed her eyes, hoping it
would pass quickly.
Finally the engine caught, and Waneeta found
the vibrations easing her queasiness. Finally, as the Skidoo settled into a
quiet idle, the nausea faded away.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to face
Thomas.
He was gone.
Waneeta glanced around. "Thomas?"
Leaving the idling Skidoo a moment, she
walked over to the uprooted tree close to where he'd been standing. Something
was wrong. Reaching out her hand, she touched it. It was the twisted wreck of
rotten roots, shrunken and decayed nearly beyond recognition. Just a moment
ago, it had seemed freshly uprooted and covered thickly with new snow. Thomas
was just standing here, having backed off when she was about to start the
engine.
Waneeta turned around and spied another
tree. One of the original old growth trees, it stretched up high above her,
forked right in the middle. The top of it was charred and broken. The meteorite
had grazed it on its descent.
"There, Thomas, look!" She
pointed and twisted about, but she was still alone.
Alone. In fact, Waneeta had never felt
so alone.
She shivered in the quiet. Suddenly, it
was as if she was the only creature left on earth. Fear crawled through her,
and she automatically stepped back, looking down the
eyed it suspiciously, unsure if she should touch it at all. Made of white
painted iron, sitting on a tread of black rubber, with two skis in front, this
was a 'Skidoo'? Waneeta seemed confident she could handle it, but it listed
badly to one side, and she would need help righting it. He quickly shed his
snowshoes for the task. Dubiously, Thomas grasped it and finding it heavier
than it looked, heaved it to set it right.
He scanned the area. "Is this where
you saw the meteorite?"
Waneeta looked around and pointed to a
tree. "It was up there. It flew over that way." She turned and
indicated east to west.
"How far away did it land?"
"Not too far. Less than quarter of
a mile. I think a chunk fell not far from here and the rest a ways further on.
Though I couldn't find it when I dropped it, so we may not find it now."
Thomas stared over the horizon line. It
was hard to believe it came so close to her when none of the trees showed any
scorching. But her 'Skidoo' must have, if her strange suit did. They'd need to
brush off the snow first.
Meanwhile, Waneeta scooped up a shiny
black helmet half hidden in the snow, and then walked toward Thomas. "What's
the matter? I know it's old, but it runs well. It'll need some cranking, I
imagine. I just hope the gas hasn't all drained out, but I don't smell
anything."
He couldn't imagine such a small
locomotive, but there it was. Did it run on a boiler? Or was it one of those
internal combustion engines he'd heard of? He wasn't an engineer, so he refused
to speculate. But still, he cringed inwardly. No doubt it would sound like the
devil himself when it finally started to work.
He watched Waneeta don the helmet, a
hard metal bowl like nothing he'd seen before. Out of her pocket, she then drew
a set of tiny keys and dangled them in front of him.
"Help me turn it around, first,
please. I know the ski is bent, but I should be able to drive it into the
village."
He helped her, and then backed off to
stand near the uprooted tree that had hindered her progress two nights ago.
"It'll be fine. Don't worry."
She smiled encouragingly at him, but he continued to stare oddly at the machine.
Waneeta shoved the key into the ignition. "It always takes a bit of
cranking to get the thing going, but it does run well."
Thomas stepped back. This he had to
watch.
As she cranked the engine, Waneeta wiped
off the seat. Under most of the snow was a fine layer of dust. Meteorite dust,
which soon smeared with the snow and she briefly wondered if she should be
saving the stuff for posterity.
Then she felt it, a peculiar sensation as
it flooded over her. That same indescribable nausea she'd felt watching the
meteorite crash and burn. It was so intense that she closed her eyes, hoping it
would pass quickly.
Finally the engine caught, and Waneeta found
the vibrations easing her queasiness. Finally, as the Skidoo settled into a
quiet idle, the nausea faded away.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to face
Thomas.
He was gone.
Waneeta glanced around. "Thomas?"
Leaving the idling Skidoo a moment, she
walked over to the uprooted tree close to where he'd been standing. Something
was wrong. Reaching out her hand, she touched it. It was the twisted wreck of
rotten roots, shrunken and decayed nearly beyond recognition. Just a moment
ago, it had seemed freshly uprooted and covered thickly with new snow. Thomas
was just standing here, having backed off when she was about to start the
engine.
Waneeta turned around and spied another
tree. One of the original old growth trees, it stretched up high above her,
forked right in the middle. The top of it was charred and broken. The meteorite
had grazed it on its descent.
"There, Thomas, look!" She
pointed and twisted about, but she was still alone.
Alone. In fact, Waneeta had never felt
so alone.
She shivered in the quiet. Suddenly, it
was as if she was the only creature left on earth. Fear crawled through her,
and she automatically stepped back, looking down the
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