Every Boy Should Have a Man by Preston L. Allen Page B

Vill-age of Mans welcomes you!”
     
    And here the bard did end his song.
    The applause was great from both oaf and man. In admiration, the female man touched the man man’s cheek lightly. Then the companions in music, Yellow Fellow and Red Man, bowed and said their final goodbyes.
    When the bell tolled the end of respite, all went back to the mines and resumed their labor.
     
    * * *
     
    At the end of day when they bore him away, she followed as far as they would allow. From the basket where he awaited his fate,Yellow Fellow saw her and the boss heard him say: “I thank you.”
    “For what?” she asked.
    “For the gift of song.”
    “Oh, that.” She looked around first, searching for those who might overhear. Then she whispered, “And I thank you for my victory, sweet one.”
    Just as I thought , said the boss, who had often observed their sneaking off together.
    He ordered her to leave, and she tightened her face to hold back the tears and she left.
    Now we shall see , the boss said.
    When they were finished with him, the boss hid some scraps of man flesh in the flesh of a bovin, and bid her come eat. She preferred, as did most mans who were not feral, a diet of vegetables and grain. In the mines, however, mans were made to eat whatever was put before them, despite their stomach’s revulsion to it.
    She took a bite of what she believed was a slice of bovin, but her stomach reacted to it with a different type of revulsion. She said to the boss: “It does not taste the same as it did before.”
    He burst into laughter. The female man lifted her eyes from her bowl and spied atop the table of the oafs, the well-cooked arms and legs of her great opponent. Her stomach heaved and surrendered all that was in it.
    The boss and his companions around the table shook with laughter at the new champion chucking up the flesh of the old.
    The boss was first among poets and he led them in song: “Great lord Red Man, oh mighty Red Man.”
    The others chanted, “Wel-come to the Village of the Oafs! The Vill-age of Oafs welcomes you!”
     
    * * *
     
    And the bard did sing: “Out here in this blackness, this loneliness, this place of barrenness, horror, and stone, the bitter tears of Red Man began to flow.”
    Someone touched her shoulder. It was her companion in music, Yellow Fellow!
    They embraced, and the boss heard the man man say: “It was a joke they played on you, sweet one. Wipe your tears away. Oh, but I’m glad to be alive.”
    “You’re glad to be alive?” The female man did not wipe her tears away, but continued to weep.
    The boss came to her and petted her head. “Red Man, Red Man, why do you weep? It was only done in fun.”
    She winced at his touch and he pulled his hand away, fearing her teeth which were bared.
    “He is just glad to be alive,” she said, pointing sadly to the table, “but there is still a well-cooked man on your plate. Why can Yellow Fellow not understand this? How can he be so selfish?”
    Her tears continued to flow.
    “Out here in this blackness, this loneliness, this place of barrenness, selfishness, and stone, the bitter tears of Red Man continued to flow.”
    And here the bard did end his song.

6
    The Bridge
    The sun still rested in its dark bed when the boss was awoken by a jangling as of much metal. He quickly opened his eyes, for he thought someone might be troubling his silver. At the entrance to his tent stood a wide oaf in a scarlet tunic of brass.
    He announced, “Today, you shall not go to the mines, but to war.”
    “Huh?”
    The boss still had much sleep in his eyes. He wanted to roll over on his cot, but in the face of this visitor with the sword at his side there was only seriousness. The boss, accustomed to being the one who barked the orders, was reminded of his manners.
    “What am I to do?” he implored with all due politeness.
    “Gather your oafs and your mans,” the soldier said, and then he explained to him what and why.
    Afterward the boss ran into the