David Marusek - The Earth Is On The Mend

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The Earth Is On The Mend

by David Marusek

Asimov's Science Fiction, May 1993

€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€The old man in the squirrel-pelt parka stopped to

pull

the club from his belt. The malemute, harnessed to the small sled,

stopped

behind him. The man stepped off the trail and wallowed through deep

snow

to the thicket of scrub willow. The dog, mindful of her traces, tamped

snow underfoot, made one tight circle, and lay down. Before she could

nap,

the man returned with a frozen snowshoe hare. "Three!" he said to the

dog.

"What does that mean, eh?" He scratched the dog behind an ear. "It

means

the Earth is on the mend, it does. And what does the dog say to that?"

The

dog stood up and wagged her tail. "I see," said the old man, "the dog

says

this time you'd better not piss it all away."

€€€

The next snare lay alongside the trail. The hare was still alive. It

huddled calmly at the end of its tight necklace. "Four," whispered the

old

man as he stepped slowly next to it. "Ah, little bunny," he crooned,

"we

came quick as we could." The hare stared with bright brown eyes. "And

what

does the bunny say?" The man raised his club. "The bunny says, 'I know;

know. Just do it.'"

€€€

Black spruce trees teetered drunkenly under the load of snow. The land

beneath the ridge lay in shadow. There, on the white expanse of a

frozen

lake, moved a black shape. "A moose?" said the old man. "Nah, dream

on."

He studied the shape's movements.

"A man!"

He led the dog down to a rocky promontory overlooking the lake, careful

not to break cover. He watched the man push a mound of snow off a

fishing

hole, chip away the new ice lens, and check the line. Empty. "It's a

fisherman who wears a bearskin parka," he told the dog. "Nice mukluks

too."

The next hole was near their hiding place, so the old man put his arm

around the dog's neck and stroked her muzzle. "I thought we checked

this

lake," he whispered into her ear. After a minute he added, "We did.

It's

dead." When the fisherman pulled a long, black fish out of the hole,

the

old man craned to see. "Ling cod," he whispered. "My oh my."

The fisherman checked fifteen more holes, adding another fish to his

catch

before leaving the lake. It was dusk when the old man led the dog to

the

nearest hole. He cleared it and pulled up the line. The line was made

from

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David Marusek - The Earth Is On The Mend

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