“Uncle Rabbit, Uncle Rabbit!” Yen called.  “The door is locked.  Let me in.”  He hammered his fist against the screen door.  There was no answer, and Yen frowned.  Had his uncle forgotten that he was coming over today?  “Uncle Rabbit?”

He still didn’t hear anything.  Luckily, his uncle had taught him a trick to get into the house, if he ever needed to.  The back window had a loose edge that could be picked out enough for Yen to reach the lock and open the window.  He squeezed his hand in, wincing as he scraped the skin on the metal, and managed to undo the lock.  Despite all the noise he made getting it open, his uncle still hadn’t come for him.  Yen felt a tightening in his stomach.

Yen crawled in through the window, still calling for his uncle.  There was a strange electric feeling to the air, like it was about to storm.  He heard a sloshing noise in the kitchen and peeked in.

A redheaded woman with eyes the color of grass stood in the middle of the tile floor, wringing water out of her yellow dress.  “I forgot how wet rivers are,” she muttered.  She looked up at Yen and smiled.  “Hello, little boy.  Do you know where Hare is?”

“I don’t know any Hare,” Yen mumbled.  “This is my Uncle Rabbit’s house.”

The women shrugged.  “Hare, Rabbit, no difference.”  She shook herself, like a dog, and drops of water splattered everywhere.  One hit Yen’s face and dried instantly, leaving behind the smell of mud.  “So, Uncle Rabbit’s nephew, do you know where he is?”

Yen shook his head.  “He was supposed to watch me today.  I don’t know where he’s gone.”

“Bah!  He’s run away, that’s what,” said the woman, and she spat onto the floor.  Her spit wriggled for a minute before turning into a rattlesnake.  “Coward!  That’s what he gets for spending so much time around white men.  They like their hares timid and jumpy.”  She stomped one bare foot, her mouth twisted in an off-center snarl so Yen could only see one white, pointy tooth.  “Bah!”  Whirling, she kicked one his uncle’s cabinets so hard that the door splintered.  “And I almost caught him and ended all this nonsense.”

The snake slithered out of the room.  Yen wished he could change into a snake, too, and follow it.  The woman pushed over the little dining table so that it slammed against the wall.  “Dammit!”  She turned, panther-fast, and grabbed his shoulder.  “Hare’s run away, he has, and left you here with me,” she said in a sing-song voice.  She smiled too widely and ruffled his hair with her free hand.  “How old are you, little hare-nephew?”

Yen squirmed out of her grip and backed away.  He understood now what his uncle had meant, a week ago.  Uncle Rabbit had been watching Yen for the night.  Usually, those times were Yen’s favorites; his uncle had traveled everywhere in the world, and had brought strange toys and games from everywhere he’d been.  They would stay up all night playing, and Uncle Rabbit would tell stories.

Last week, though, Uncle Rabbit had been very quiet when Yen had arrived.  Worse, he’d smelt like alcohol, and lots of it.  Yen had smelled cheap beer on the men in town, but never on his uncle.  Yen had felt uneasy about walking near him.  He looked like his neighbor’s dog had when it got rabies.

“Stay away from women with red hair and green eyes,” his uncle had said, his hands shaking, and that was the only thing he’d said all night.  Yen had gone to bed three hours early just to hide from the terrible silence that hung around his uncle.

“I’m supposed to stay away from women with green eyes and red hair,” Yen blurted out.  As soon as he said it, he wished he could grab the words and stuff them back in his mouth.

The women arched an eyebrow.  “So?”

Yen licked his lips, feeling silly.  “So . . . you have green eyes.  And red hair.”

She grinned.  “Now, little hare, that seems a little prejudicial of your uncle, doesn’t it?  I mean, plenty of women have red hair and green eyes.  Are you sure  he didn’t mean that you should just stay away from strange women with green eyes and red hair?”  She reached out and grabbed his shoulder again.  “And I’m not strange.  Your uncle and I are old friends.”

Her eyes were funny, like mirrors.  Yen couldn’t look away.  “But . . .”

“‘But?’” the woman cried out, twisting his shoulder until it popped painfully.  “You should watch that tongue of yours, kitten, or somebody nasty might just rip it right out of your little kitten head some day.”  Her eyes narrowed, a brighter green than they had been when he’d first seen her.  She pinched his cheek, hard.  “I might, if you don’t stop talking.  I’ve got fangs as well as a pretty face, kitten.”

                “And a tail!” Yen shouted, unable to help himself.  “You have a tail.”  He covered his mouth with both hands to protect his tongue and flinched.  He didn’t know why he couldn’t shut up.  Yen looked around the room, hoping against all odds that his uncle would burst in and save him.

                The woman let go of his shoulder, the anger running out of her.  “I do?”  She twisted her head to look.  “Oh, damn.  I thought I’d gotten rid of the thing this time.”  She shrugged.  “You won’t hold that against me, will you, my little moon-rabbit?”  Stroking his hair again and taking his hand in hers, she let her skirt swish against his legs.  “Do you share your uncle’s taste in women?  Do  you, too, have a penchant for us dramatic ladies with such dramatic coloring?”

                Yen felt sick.  He tried to shake his head, but the nails poking into his scalp held him still.

                “What’s your name, pet?” she cooed.

                “It’s Yen,” he whispered, nearly choking on his fear, and her fingers tightened enough to draw blood and make him yelp with surprise and pain.

                The woman disentangled her fingers from him and punched the wall.  She swore for a full minute, and Yen blushed.  “Yen!  Of course.  Figures.  Your uncle’s idea, I suppose.  The tricky bas—” she stopped and rolled her eyes.   “Bugger.”  The woman sighed and let go of his hand.  Yen immediately scurried to the other side of the room, and she chuckled a little.  “Fair enough, I suppose.  You can calm down, though, Yen.  He’s sealed you against my influence.”

                “Don’t believe you.  Go away.”  Yen felt hot tears running out of his eyes, and he rubbed at his face in humiliation.  “When Uncle Rabbit gets back, he’s going to be really mad at you!  He’ll make you sorry for hurting me!”

                “He won’t be back while I’m here,” said the woman, calm for the first time, her body stilling into simple prettiness.  She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.  Her face seemed sad for a moment.  “Folk such as we can’t exist in the same place at the same time.”  She sighed.  “Once, I thought it was possible, but . . .”  She shook herself and grinned again, though it seemed half-hearted to Yen.  “Well, that was a long time ago, anyways.  No, bunny boy, I can’t glamour you.  I can’t make yearning itself yearn, as it were.”  Moving away from the wall, the woman adjusted her skirt.  “I’ll be going now.  Tell your uncle I said ‘hello,’ if you could.  And tell him . . .” her voice trailed off and she wiped at one eye furiously.  “Damn dust.  Just the ‘hello,’ then, though I suppose it’s a bit unfair to be asking your favors.”

                Yen didn’t say anything, scowling at the piece of wall near her shoulder.  He felt as if she was trying to manipulate him.

                The woman snorted.  “You’re a tough nut, that’s for sure.  Goodbye then.”  And with that, she disappeared, leaving a puddle of water and a small pile of black feathers. 

                Kneeling, Yen picked one up.  “Crows,” he murmured.  He trailed it along his forearm, confused by the soft reality of it.

                As if that had been a signal, his uncle appeared.  “Yen!  Yen, are you okay?”

                Yen looked at him.  His uncle looked worried, yes.  But clean.  Safe.  And just like she’d predicted, he hadn’t come back until the woman had left.  Yen felt his face go very stiff, studying his uncle for the first time.  Rabbit, yes.  Why hadn’t he seen that weak chin, that nervousness before?   “I’m fine, Uncle Rabbit.”

                The man babbled.  “Yen, I’m sorry.  It’s just—”

                Holding the feather tight in his hand, Yen shook his head.  “No, Uncle Rabbit.”  He walked past his uncle’s outstretched hand and left the kitchen.  “I think . . . I think I need to be left alone.”  Yen looked back for a moment.  “And . . . I think you should talk to her yourself.  I think . . .” he barely knew what he was saying, but something about it felt true.  “I think you need her as much as she needs you.”

                “Yen?”  His uncle’s mouth fluttered open and closed several times in confusion.  “What—Where are you getting this?”

                Yen shrugged and laughed, tasting mud and feathers and water.  “Who knows?”  He dropped the feather into the puddle and watched the ripples spread outward until they bumped into his uncle’s feet.  “Who knows.”