Ressurection Days

by Wilson Tucker

  “The male before the council caused other males to carry some doors to their shelters on the pretext that they had won them in a gambling game. It is not believed that the abnormal male taught the others to gamble.”

  “This town is ripe for bingo,” Owen observed.

  “How did this male cause that to happen?” Right End asked curiously. “Why did the other males follow his directions or instructions?”

  Hoon said, “He was wearing stolen clothing.”

  The warden clutching Owen raised her free hand to display the wrinkled pink coveralls that had been removed from around his waist. The judges studied the garment.

  “Where did he obtain the clothing?”

  City Hall was silent Those witnesses present either didn’t know or were unwilling to further involve themselves. Owen grinned at the silence and winked at the judge sitting on the right end. He let his gaze drift ever so casually toward Hoon behind the small table and then back to the curious councilwoman. It was an innocent ploy, of course, and no one had asked him a direct question; besides, it would be unsportsmanlike to make more trouble for the blonde dolly—she was having enough miseries with her hangover.

  Wytha signaled again and the reading of the indictment went on.

  “During the course of the day the male standing before the council caused Paoli, by misdirection or deceit, to swallow a poisonous liquid which made her both mentally and physically ill. A sample of the liquid is present on the council table, along with a partially consumed artifact called a cigar.”

  Owen knew the inevitable question was coming and waited for Right End to ask it. She was looking at him. “Where did the male obtain the poisonous liquid?”

  “From the same place where Hoon got hers, judge. Right out of the resurrection machines you got here.”

  Right End swiveled her head once more to stare at the recorder. “Is that a true answer?”

  Hoon admitted that it was. Her teeth were so tightly clenched that her tongue had difficulty maneuvering between them to make the reply.

  “It ain’t ail that poisonous, judge,” Owen advised Right End. “Take a little nip and see for yourself—or better yet, let me demonstrate.”

  Wytha motioned Hoon to continue the reading.

  “At one point during the afternoon, Paoli and the male were observed together unclothed on the lawn before Paoli’s shelter. Both were wet. The male dried Paoli’s body and then followed her inside after speaking lasciviously to two persons who chanced upon the scene. Paoli and the male were not seen again for several hours.”

  “I was giving her a suntan,” Owen explained. “All us old ancient peoples did it.”

  “Paoli suffered a severe illness from the poisonous liquid and went to bed, where she slept for several hours. When she awoke, the male had left the shelter and entered the forbidden area behind the shelters.”

  Owen looked down over -Paoli’s drooping shoulder. “It’s nice to know you don’t kiss and tell, lollypop.” His captor yanked on his arm to silence him.

  Left End councilwoman was studying him with a faintly lascivious expression—one that suggested she was reading between the historian’s lines. Owen gave her the bold eye.

  “The male concealed himself in the forbidden area and eluded the search parties who were entering all the shelters in that vicinity. It is not yet known how much injury the male caused to the conduits in the forbidden area. A survey to ascertain the extent of damage will begin at daylight. When the aberrant male wasn’t immediately discovered and the search parties moved elsewhere, he came out of hiding and sought admittance to Kehli’s shelter. Kehli detained him for a period of time until the shepherds could be summoned. During that time, the male drank the poisonous liquid and partially consumed the cigar now on the council table. Both gave off disagreeable odors suggestive of their toxic nature. The recorder, occupying the shelter next door, was awakened by the male’s loud voice and boisterous behavior and immediately called the shepherds.”

  “Fink.”

  “The male again made his escape into the forbidden area, but this time the sheperds pursued him and prevented him from finding concealment there. By walking and jumping on the conduits, the fleeing male advanced to the center of the forbidden area and climbed atop the distribution unit, where he remained unseen until after the search party had passed. From the distribution unit the male proceeded to a building in the production zone and attempted to gain entrance. When that was denied him he climbed to the rooftops and ran along the roofs until he was trapped. Two shepherds discovered him on the rooftops and quickly followed him.”

  “Trapped? The rotten roof caved in.”

  “A considerable amount of damage was caused on and to the rooftops, but the full extent of the damage would not be known until daylight. When directly above the shelter of Tola, Three-five-one-oh-oh-nine, the male broke through the roof and jumped down onto the bed in a desperate attempt to evade his pursuers. He made lascivious suggestions to Tola, who attempted to capture him. The two shepherds following him descended into the shelter and continued their pursuit, aided by Tola. The truant male again made his escape through trickery and concealed himself in the darkness, of the shelters, or perhaps along the road. A new search was organized.

  “The male was finally captured by an alert recorder who reasoned and believed that he would eventually return to those patrons and shelters most familiar to him. The recorder waited patiently in the darkness and, as expected, discovered and subjugated the male as he was again attempting to enter Kehli’s shelter by stealth.

  “The agent of uproar was promptly delivered into the care of the shepherds and now stands before this council for study and penalty. End of report.”

  “Well, hooray,” Owen retorted. “Don’t break your arm while you pat yourself on the back.” He faced the table. “When do I get my say?”

  “Males have no right to speak before this council,” Wytha told him coldly. “Males are servants of the city.” “I protest! You might as well know, your honors, that I’m going to appeal this to the circuit court. That testimony was loaded. Geez, you should see all the stuff that was left out.”

  Without turning to look behind, Wytha asked, “Hoon, is the amended statement a true and accurate one, without omissions?”

  “Yes, Wytha.”

  “Paoli, is the amended statement a true and accurate one, without omissions, to the best of your knowledge?” Paoli glanced up from her protracted study of the floor. She tried to sit up straight and appear attentive, but the effort was just beyond her capabilities.

  “Yes, Wytha.”

  “Kehli, is the amended statement a true and accurate one, without omissions, to the best of your knowledge?” Kehli stood up. “I did not know about the activities on the rooftops, Wytha, but I would add information.”

  “Don’t dig your own grave,” Owen warned in a whisper. “Forget the chocolate cake!”

  “What additional information is to be entered?”

  Kehli said, “I talked to the male at some length before the shepherds arrived and he ran away in fear. He responded readily to my questions and gave as much information as he was able to, but at no time did he offer harm to me or to my shelter. This male is confused about his death, which happened several hundred years ago, and is even more confused about his reappearance here in the city. He constantly seeks to learn the closure or doom of his own native city and of the larger government to which his city paid allegiance. He bemoans the loss of those who were his contemporaries and thinks that some of them may now be serving our city because they were interred in the same burial ground. An artifact seen in my shelter once belonged to his companion and he recognized it as such. He was greatly distraught. At a future time, if the council agrees, I would like to include in our archives a summary of his background and his history as I understand it.

  “It is apparent to me, and the council may agree, that the behavior of this male is the result of defective reconstruction, not a willful or mal
icious disregard for the city’s customs and-regulations. I do not criticize the faulty operation or the operator but do ask that the council consider his deficiency and his fearful state of mind as the real causes of his behavior. If it pleases the council, I am willing to become his patron and give him shelter.”

  Owen felt like shouting and applauding but knew better than to break the spell, if Kehli had been successful in casting a spell before the judges. She was the only friend he had in court, bless her delightful brown eyes, and he needed all the help he could find in this room. He’d be delighted to take shelter with her.

  The councilwoman on the left end broke the spell.

  She asked Kehli, “Is there a need for you to undergo a pregnancy examination?”

  Kehli gasped with shock and turned red. “There is not!”

  “That’s rotten low-down dirty pool,” Owen declared.

  Left End turned her attention to Paoli. “Is there a need for you to undergo a pregnancy examination?”

  The suffering blonde winced, stiffened in the chair, and then slumped once more. She mumbled, “I was ill from the poisoned drink.” The hangover was monumental.

  “Please speak up,” Beady Eye persisted. “Is there a need?”

  “I don’t know,” Paoli complained. “I don’t know**

  Owen was thunderstruck. He looked down at Paoli and thought her either a magnificent liar who could become an accomplished actress, or else she had the worst memory of any woman he’d ever known—past life or this one.

  City Hall was hushed with anticipation.

  When Owen became aware of the prolonged silence and lifted his gaze to the council table he found the three pink-clad judges studying him with an eager intensity, awaiting his comment or testimony on the delicate matter at hand. Wytha had put aside her mask of cold dislike and for once seemed to invite his participation. The guards at the doors waited on his word. Hoon stared at him with a greedy desire to know, while Kehli and Paoli found safety in a dull examination of the floor.

  Owen Hall tried to fold his arms but could not because his wrists were tied. He rested the palms of his hands on the chair in front of him and smiled sweetly at the three magistrates.

  “We males have no right to speak before the council, ladies. We just run around serving the city.”

  Somebody sighed noisily. He didn’t know if it was Paoli sighing with resignation or Hoon with frustration.

  The three judges emerged from a huddle. Their heads had been together for long minutes.

  Wytha stared at Owen and said sternly, “Hoon and Paoli will submit themselves to a pregnancy examination at the proper time. If, later, it has been determined that pregnancy has occurred, the fetuses will be put down. We are agreed that the possible birth of a male child is an unwanted event.

  “As of now, the conversion and use of males for personal amusement and recreation is prohibited until an in-depth study of the practice is made. That study is hereby ordered. At a later date this council will rule on the question of again permitting variants for personal use or of permanently prohibiting them. The present example underscores the necessity of reexamining the whole question and, if they are again permitted, formulations of rules and responsibilities for their existence. Hoon is specifically reprimanded for her lack of responsibility.”

  “Demon rum was her downfall,” Owen said. “Drink is the curse of the upper class.”

  “We must now assess the damage to the city. One door has been demolished and—”

  “Two,” Owen interrupted her.

  “Two?”

  “Good old Hoon smashed another one while she was chasing me. She’s a clumsy lout.”

  Wytha favored him with the sour glare. “Two doors have been demolished and an unknown number of ruptures have damaged the rooftops. We must await a report on the condition of the conduits and of the various shelters that the male impermissibly entered and abused. Responsibility for his conduct and the subsequent damages will be allocated among Hoon, Paoli, Kehli, and myself. I include myself because of the male’s aberrant conduct at the food center and the loss of future meals. Furthermore, the—”

  “Oh, knock it off, Granny,” Owen again interrupted. “You’re crying over spilt milk. Now, I’m a carpenter and a good one—I guess I’m one of the best carpenters in my part of Indiana, all modesty aside. I can repair all that damage in no time, no time at all. Try me.”

  Right End asked curiously, “What is a carpenter?”

  “Geez, honey, you’re a— A carpenter is a skilled man who works with wood, who builds and repairs anything made of wood. I can build. houses and porches, lay roofs, hang doors and windows and kitchen cabinets, lay floors—you name it, I can do it and do it right ” Owen warmed up to his spiel/“Your honors, to be frank about it, you’ve got a rum town here. It’s put together with chewing gum and kite string. The houses are skid-row tenements, the doors are sloppily cut and poorly hung, the rooftops are as thin as single-weight glass, and you don’t seem to know what windows are. It’s poor horse, all of it—it’s amateur night at the Bijou—and all because you use those zombie workmen with no brains.

  “I can change all that. I can start work bright and early tomorrow morning rebuilding the town like it should be built. You need to get those roofs fixed before the snows come. First thing to do is rip off that flimsy sheathing and use it for firewood or toothpicks and then set in more joists—all the joists should be sixteen inches on center for added strength, see? Then you can lay down heavy plywood sheathing and then cover it all with waterproof roofing. The sinks and the bathrooms need vents but all of it, everything, can be made in those resurrection machines over there.

  “Ladies, when I’m done rebuilding this town it will bear up under a snow like we had in the winter of ’88.” He held his hands to his .chest to demonstrate distance. “Why, do you know, back in Indiana I’ve seen snow belly-deep to a tall horse and you want to be prepared for that. What do you say, is it a deal?”

  Left End asked curiously, “What is a snow?”

  “There goes a good job.” Owen sighed.

  Right End offered a tart comment. “The males of the city are capable of that work.”

  “Oh, fudge! Ain’t I getting through to you at all? Ain’t you listening to me? The males of the city can’t do anything right because you won’t let them have brains— you won’t let them think for themselves. I just told you —your shelters are flimsy, your doors don’t fit, your roofs are cardboard, and your food is as thin as the stuff they give to poor people on welfare. There’s a guy down there at the bacon factory who can’t tell the difference between axle grease and shinola, but you’ve got him making butter.”

  Kehli whispered, “Owen Hall, please …”

  The councilwomen stared at him in stony silence.

  “What’s more,” Owen added, “you eat the gunk and think it’s butter. Now that’s dumb. All you’ve got to do is find a farmer or a dairyman, give him his brains, and set him to work. You’ll soon have real butter and you’ll kick yourselves for wasting all these years. The same goes for every other tradesman: carpenters, plumbers, roofers, electricians, shoemakers, the lot. Knock off this slavery business. Give men their brains and watch the changes get made. Let those zombies think and you’ll see a whole new town around here. With electric lights maybe.”

  The hard silence continued.

  “Take your time, think it over,” Owen added with a wave of his hands. “This here town could be first class.” The councilwomen put their heads together to exchange glances and three words. Owen watched their lips and saw each pair of lips utter a single word.

  Wytha said coldly, “We are agreed on the questions of atonement and reparations. Hoon will forfeit one meal a day for a total of twelve days. In addition, she will begin at once to rebuild and replace the damaged and dislocated doors to all the affected shelters. She will report back to this council when that task is completed. In the meanwhile she will relinquish her recording duties at the end
of this session and ton those duties over to her assistant.”

  Hoon made no answer but nodded in acknowledgment and then favored Owen with a bitterly sour glance.

  Wytha continued, “Paoli will forfeit one meal a day for a total of’ twelve days. In addition, she will begin at once to repair and rebuild the damaged rooftops and all damaged shelters. She will report back to this council when those tasks are completed. She is relieved of her normal duties as a shepherd during the period of rebuilding.”

  Paoli mumbled, “It will be done.” She eyed the floor.

  Wytha stared hard at Owen. “I will forfeit one meal a day for a total of twelve days for my laxity at the food center. In the meanwhile I will begin a search for better qualified males to process food and will report back to this council when that is accomplished.”

  “It’s about time,” Owen commented.

  Wytha said, “Kehli.”

  Kehli rose from her chair. Her face was pale.

  “You are instructed to take this male to your shelter under the guard of the shepherd. Additional shepherds are to be placed at the doors of the shelter to prevent another escape attempt. You will reconstruct the male in the proper manner, conforming to all regulations concerning males in the service of the city. Specifically, you are hereby instructed to remove his properties of independent thought, independent speech, and his abilities as a variant.

  “At the usual hour this morning you will bring him to me for inspection. If the male has been satisfactorily restructured and if he is found to be fit and suitable for labor, he will be assigned to a place of work and to your shelter for safekeeping.”