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with many kisses and caresses. Jean left her half-finished poem on
the pillow and got out a length of silky rope. They threw it over a
beam in the ceiling, tied slipknots in the ends and slipped their
heads into the resulting nooses. Nick shivered in memory.
They faced each other and Jean wrapped her legs around
Gene s waist, taking him in as he stepped off the low table. They
fucked in slow motion, their faces going red and then purple.
When Jean passed out, Gene worked frantically to free her.
Their friends, also wearing black turtlenecks, barged in to find
them stiffening in midair, still in mid-sex.
The banner for Jene, a Wonder of Science, rolled out of the
dark.
Nick held his breath. He knew what the last act had to be, what
it always was during the Show. He took in the white frame
farmhouse, the chicken run and garden and the peach orchard. He
saw the little burying ground not far from the barn.
Jacob, younger than Nick knew him, strode across the yard
from the burying ground with an adolescent s gangly stride. He
went into the house.
The gloom and disrepair saddened Nick. The faded woman on
the equally faded sofa opened her eyes.  Jacob.
Nick startled. The others had been silent.
 Mama, shush. You re dead. Jesus told me.
 Jacob, I am not dead. There was anger in her thin voice.
 Just hush, Mama, and lie quiet like is decent. I ve dug you a
nice grave right where you always wanted it, under the big elm.
He stepped out and brought in a wooden coffin, which he set on
the high table before her.
She struggled onto one elbow as Jacob lifted her into the box.
Nick could see the effort cost her most of her energy.  Jacob! she
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wailed.
He washed her face and hands as if she had said nothing. He
brushed her hair with tenderest care.  Now lie still or you ll muss
it. Can t go to heaven with mussed hair, Mama. And St. Peter s
waiting on you special. He told me while I was digging.
She pushed up against the lowering lid, screaming. But her
invalid s strength was no match for a hard-working youth s. He
nailed the lid down and eased the box to the floor, then took up
two long ropes and pulled it.
Mrs. Plum screamed all the way across the yard and as he
lowered her into the grave. Jacob stood beside it, praying over her.
He sang a hymn as he shoveled the dirt back in. As the first clods
landed on the coffin s lid, a frenzy of hammering broke out from
inside it.
The grave was mostly still empty when the sheriff s truck
pulled into the drive. He strode over to where Jacob stood by the
grave.
 Mama finally pass, son? he asked.
Jacob nodded.  Died while I was gathering eggs. I dug the
grave just where she wanted it.
A single thin, hoarse scream came up out of the grave. The
sheriff startled and jumped down in it.
 Hold on, ma am, I ll get you out.
 Sheriff, she s dead. Jesus told me so.
 Boy, tain t no dead woman never screamed so. He grabbed
the ropes that Jacob had used to lower the coffin and hauled it back
up. Mrs. Plum lay quiet and still, her pale face contorted when he
pried the lid off.  Ma am, Miss Catherine, are you all right?
She breathed shallowly and looked up at the sheriff.  No. Take
care of Jacob. He s a good boy, but he ain t right. She let out a
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rattling breath and the sheriff shivered.
He turned and cuffed Jacob to the tree.  Son, you done killed
your mama. Around here, we don t care to bother the judge for that
kind of thing. He left and returned in an hour with six men.
They buried Catherine Plum next to her three dead sons. Then
they turned their attention to Jacob. One made a noose out of the
coffin ropes and threw it over a branch of the elm. Jacob just
smiled as they got him to his feet and tossed it over his head.
Nick didn t watch the rest. It explained everything. Jacob had
been schizophrenic, with religious delusions. No wonder he
couldn t abide Nick s faith.
Clovis smiled sadly at Nick.  Now you know it all. You see,
the Show does not make us immortal. It simply prolongs us. And I
am growing weak. I shall have enough to change you into what
you will need to be. But there is one last scene. You have seen it
but do not remember.
Nick stared up at the big cab-over Freightliner barreling down
on him where he sat. He threw his arms up automatically and it
passed, without even a wind to mark it.  That&  he stammered at
Clovis,  that was me, dead in the ambulance.
Clovis nodded and faded.
Nick found himself alone under the April stars, a weight on his
left shoulder. He looked and saw his arm had changed. A metal
prosthetic of brass and gears had replaced the flesh. He could still
feel the blood pumping through the metal. When he tapped his
fingertips against his thigh, he felt that, too.
He headed back for the train, exhausted and unhappy with the
new knowledge. Ignorance was bliss and he envied the others who
didn t know they were dead.
How would he explain all this to Jacob?
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* * *
Nick didn t have to explain. He awoke to pain. A shooting pain
racked his ribs as if someone had hit him. He knew at once what
was going on. Despite the pains, which manifested themselves at
frequent intervals, he struggled into his clothes and left the empty
car.
He charged through the Backyard, heading for the Engine. A
hard blow to his shoulder rocked him and another to his belly
knocked the wind out of him, dropping him to sit on the ground
with a whoof. Nick gasped for a moment, got back to his feet and
continued.
He saw Torturo hurling rocks at the Engine and shouting at
Clovis. When his lover pegged one through the window, a gash
opened on Nick s own forehead and blood streamed into his eye
and down his face.
 Jacob! he yelled.  Stop!
 Shut up, Nicholas. Torturo launched another rock, sending it
clanging off the rounded side.  Fuck you, Clovis!
 Jac  Nick hit the ground with another whoof. He sat
gasping, holding his belly, blood soaking the collar and front of his
shirt.
Torturo dropped the rock he held and came to Nick, confusion
all over his face.  What? What happened to you?
 You did. Nick peeled away the bloody shirt to show large
purple bruises blooming all over his body, including a bright red
spot on his belly from the last rock.  I m just lucky the one that
broke the window didn t take my eye out. It was sharp.
Torturo looked between the Engine and Nick for a long minute.
Then he reached down and pulled Nick to his feet, gathering him
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in close.
 I ll be okay, Nick said.  Maybe we should get me cleaned up
before the rubes show? The Sunrise Service should just be letting
out.
Jacob nodded and led him back to the car.  Sit, darling, he
said, easing Nick to the sofa. Nick took the opportunity to steal a
kiss of his cheek. Jacob ducked out and came back with a basin of
warm water. He washed the blood off of Nick s chest and neck and
face, working his way gently to the original wound. It had closed
over.
 I m sorry, Nicholas.
 It s all right. You didn t know. You lost your temper over my
arm, right?
Jacob nodded and rubbed some balm on the bruises, his fingers
light.  I did. I wanted to hurt Clovis, not you. He lied! You re to be
mine, not his.
 Jacob, love, I am yours. Nick kissed him again, on the
mouth, making it sweet and welcoming as well as grateful.
 Yes, but for how long? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]