James Howerton 
The Blue River Valley 

Daddy. She pierced him suddenly with her green eyes. You know what it is, stop pretending. Im grown up now; tell me what it is!

Cathy, you always said you didnt want to know; it made you feel different, you didnt want to know. And youre not grown up.

I said a lot of things. But now I want to know.

Youre not grown up, youre… He stared into her burning eyes for a long time, having known for sixteen years that this moment would one day come, that she would have to know the truth someday. Its called Mist, he heard his voice saying. Its a powerful field, something along the lines of magnetism. You know, that game we used to play on the kitchen table, Cathy; when you tried to push the positive sides of your magnets together and they repelled each other, and one scooted away without even touching the other, and how you used to giggle?

She studied him for a long time. But when I reversed one of them, they didnt repel, they attracted.

He looked away from her, his little girl, the miracle. Fear throbbed in his eyes as he stared out the window at the Blue River Valley beyond the farmhouse. He had always known that they couldnt hide here, nor anywhere. She would never be safe, not anywhere on Earth, not anywhere in the universe. He had always known that this day would come.

Mist, Cathy said, breaking him out of his stare.

Mist. Thats the field that surrounds you.

Daddy, am I human?

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James Howerton is a graduate of the University of Nebraska with a degree in English Literature. He lives on a farm near Denton, Nebraska.