JANNALISA
© Dana W. Paxson 2005
Story threads back to scene HEADS DOWN ON THE STONE: |
Story threads back to scene WRITING IN THE SALT: |
![]() |
![]() |
|
JANNALISA 1560 4D I walked the street, free, with Thringe‘s cape wrapped around my slowly-fading smartgel body pattern. My throat hurt. The jiver! It was still straddling my larynx, and I didn’t know how to get it out. Joovlies. Drasstar and the others would be at Joovlies. What was Thringe‘s gift? And how did the first chatbird find me, to get me to Joovlies in the first place? It didn’t take me long to trace back my earliest steps into this whirlwind, and walk up Teshill Slope once again. This time was different. The same Tanmar Fest noise and chaos shook the big street, but now I walked in it as part of it. Then I saw Tavenal Tain, in his wheeled cart, four bluecops standing in a circle looking down at him. He looked up from one of the blues to another. His face was grim. Two of the blues were behind him, arms folded, legs apart. The moving crowd of streetboys and upcity funlovers swirled around them all, voices chattering and laughing through the Tanmar Fest music. He saw me. As he stared, open-mouthed, at me, the bluecops all turned to follow his gaze. I wanted to turn and run, but instead I approached them. “You’re Thringe?” one of the blues, a woman, asked me. “Yah.” “Saw you at Joovlies nine days ago. You sang that one, that Ivy Stone thing. Amazing, what you said to me afterwards.” “Ah.” My mind raced. What had Thringe said to her? I closed my eyes, and a door opened in my head. A word escaped. I said, “Jannalisa. You’re Jannalisa.” The name knotted itself, then unstrung into a series of words. “Three children lost, and a bad man.” “Yes.” “Look, we’ve got to take him in,” one of the men with Jannalisa said, pointing down at Tain. “What do you want with him?” I asked Jannalisa. “State business,” she said, turning away. “Smuggling.” “Come on. Catch her in another show,” the man said to Jannalisa as they moved Tavenal Tain away down the street, his wheeled cart bumping over serrations in the stone. Tain looked over his shoulder at me between their legs, worry on his face. I headed for Joovlies. |
||
![]() |
![]() |
Story threads leading to scene A DISTANT RHYTHMIC SCRAPE: |
Story threads leading to scene STAY OUT OF THE FOREST: |
Story List |
SURPRISE ME |
Author Page |
USER SURVEY |
PUZZLE ME |
MAKE ELM MARK |
HOVER Lucida Bright BARE |
HOVER Lucida Bright FULL |
HOVER Palatino Linotype BARE |
HOVER Palatino Linotype FULL |
HOVER Times New Roman BARE |
HOVER Times New Roman FULL |
PAD Arial BARE |
PAD Arial FULL |
PAD Lucida Bright BARE |
PAD Lucida Bright FULL |
PAD Times New Roman BARE |
PAD Times New Roman FULL |