Little bit scary
In telling his story he had grown so many extra eyes and noses and hands that his body all but vanished Eyes like grapes on a vine Hands feeling the eyes Noses smelling the hands
Slashes on every one of the wrists.
willie lincoln
The newcomer sat on the roof of his sick-house, staring down in wonder at Mr. Bevins.
hans vollman
Occasionally stealing an amazed glance over at you, sir. At your considerable—
roger bevins iii
Come now, no need to speak of—
hans vollman
The other man (the one hit by a beam) Quite naked Member swollen to the size of Could not take my eyes off
It bounced as he
Body like a dumpling Broad flat nose like a sheep’s
Quite naked indeed
Awful dent in the head How could he walk around and talk with such a nasty—
willie lincoln
Presently we found ourselves joined by the Reverend Everly Thomas.
hans vollman
Who arrived, as he always arrives, at a hobbling sprint, eyebrows arched high, looking behind himself anxiously, hair sticking straight up, mouth in a perfect O of terror. And yet spoke, as he always speaks, with the utmost calmness and good sense.
roger bevins iii
A newcomer? said the Reverend.
I believe we have the honor of addressing a Mr. Carroll, Mr. Bevins said.
The lad only looked at us blankly.
hans vollman
The newcomer was a boy of some ten or eleven years. A handsome little fellow, blinking and gazing cautiously about him.
the reverend everly thomas
Resembling a fish who, having washed ashore, lies immobile and alert, acutely aware of its vulnerability.
hans vollman
Putting me in mind of a nephew of mine who had once fallen through the ice of the river and come home chilled to the bone. Fearful of his punishment, he had not the nerve to step inside; I found him leaning against the door for what warmth he could gain in that way, stunned, guilty, nearly insensate with cold.
roger bevins iii
No doubt you are feeling a certain pull? Mr. Vollman said. An urge? To go? Somewhere? More comfortable?
I feel I am to wait, the boy said.
It speaks! said Mr. Bevins.
the reverend everly thomas
Wait for what? Mr. Sheep-Dumpling said.
My mother, I said. My father. They will come shortly. To collect me Mr. Sheep-Dumpling shook his head sadly His member also shook Sadly
They may come, said the many-eyed man. But I doubt they will collect you.
Then all three laughed With much clapping of the many-eyed man’s many hands And waggling of Mr. Sheep-Dumpling’s swollen member Even the Reverend laughed Though, laughing, he still looked frightened
In any event, they will not stay long, said Mr. Sheep-Dumpling.
All the while wishing themselves elsewhere, said the many-eyed man.
Thinking only of lunch, said the Reverend.
It is soon to be spring The Christmas toys barely played with I have a glass soldier whose head can turn The epaulettes interchangeable Soon flowers will bloom Lawrence from the garden shed will give us each a cup of seeds
I am to wait I said
willie lincoln
X.
I shot Mr. Bevins a look.
hans vollman
These young ones are not meant to tarry.
roger bevins iii
Matthison, Aged Nine Years? Tarried less than thirty minutes. Then dispersed with a small fartlike pop. Dwyer, 6 yrs & 5 mos? Was not in the sick-box upon its arrival. Had apparently vacated in transit. Sullivan, Infant, tarried twelve or thirteen minutes, a crawling squalling ball of frustrated light. Russo, Taken in Her Sixth Year, & Light of a Mother’s Eye? Tarried a mere four minutes. Looking behind stone after stone. “I am investigating after my schoolbook.”
hans vollman
Poor dear.
the reverend everly thomas
The Evans twins, Departed This Sorry Vale Together at 15 Years, 8 Months, tarried nine minutes, then left at precisely the same instant (twins to the end). Percival Strout, Aged Seventeen Years, tarried forty minutes. Sally Burgess, 12 Years & Dear to All, tarried seventeen minutes.
hans vollman
Belinda French, Baby. Remember her?
roger bevins iii
The size of a loaf of bread, and just lay there, giving off a dull white light and that high-pitched keening.
the reverend everly thomas
For fifty-seven straight minutes.
hans vollman
Long after her mother, Amanda French, Lost Bringing Life to a Fair & Yet Unlucky Childe, had gone on.
roger bevins iii
They lay together in a single sick-box.
hans vollman
A most touching sight.
the reverend everly thomas
But in time, she went.
roger bevins iii
As these young ones should.
the reverend everly thomas
As most do, quite naturally.
roger bevins iii
Or else.
the reverend everly thomas
Imagine our surprise, then, when, passing by an hour or so later, we found the lad still on the roof, looking expectantly about, as if waiting for a carriage to arrive and whisk him away.
hans vollman
And pardon me for saying so—but that wild-onion stench the young exude when tarrying? Was quite thick already.
roger bevins iii
Something needed to be done.
the reverend everly thomas
XI.
Walk with us, lad, Mr. Sheep-Dumpling said. There is someone we would like you to meet.
Can you walk? said the many-eyed man.
I found that I could
Could walk Could skim Could even walk-skim
A little walk-skim was bully by me Something was lying untoward below us, in a box inside that little house
Untoward ly
May I tell you something?
It had the face of a worm
A worm, I say! A worm the size of a boy Wearing my suit
Horrors.
willie lincoln
The lad made as if to take my hand, then seemed to think better of it, perhaps not wishing me to think him childish.
hans vollman
And we set off, making our way east.
roger bevins iii
XII.
Hello, kind sirs. If you wish, I can tell you the names of some of our wildwoods flowers?
mrs. elizabeth crawford
Mrs. Crawford fell in behind us, assuming her customary posture of extreme obeisance: bowing, smiling, scraping, flinching.
roger bevins iii
Thare is, for example, the wild sweet William, wild pink ladyslipper, wild roses of all types. Thare is butterfly weed, thare is huny suckle, and not to menshun blue flag, yellow flag, and A grate many other kinds that I cant recollect the Names of at this time.
mrs. elizabeth crawford
Being harassed all the while by Longstreet, that wretch who resides near the askew bench.
roger bevins iii
Mark you, gentlemen, my subtle understanding of the significant aspects of the costuming: the hooks-and-eyes, the Ellis-In, the intricate Rainy Daisy skirt, I tell you, Scudder, it’s like peeling an onion: unlacing, unhooking, cajoling, until one gets, at last, hardly at a fast pace, to the center of the drama, the jewel—as one would say—its bosky dell—
sam “smooth-boy” longstreet
Who groped and pawed her continually as we went along, Mrs. Crawford remaining blessedly oblivious to his disgusting attentions.
the reverend everly thomas
The lad, overawed, followed close behind us, looking this way and that.
hans vollman
Well now I will give you A part
of, or all of, if you like it, a Song my dear husband used to sing. Cauld it Adam and Eaves wedding Song. This Song was Sung by him at my sister’s wedding. He was much in the habit of making Songs and Singing of them and—
Oh no, I won’t go no closer.
Good day to you, sirs.
mrs. elizabeth crawford
We had reached the edge of an uninhabited wilderness of some several hundred yards that ended in the dreaded iron fence.
hans vollman
That noxious limit beyond which we could not venture.
roger bevins iii
How we hated the thing.
hans vollman
The Traynor girl lay as usual, trapped against, and part of, the fence, manifesting at that moment as a sort of horrid blackened furnace.
roger bevins iii
I could not help but recall her first day here, when she uninterruptedly manifested as a spinning young girl in a summer frock of continually shifting color.
the reverend everly thomas
I called out to her and asked her to speak to the lad. About the perils of this place. For the young.
hans vollman
The girl was silent. The door of the furnace she was at that moment only opened, then closed, affording us a brief glimpse of the terrible orange place of heat within.
roger bevins iii
She rapidly transmuted into the fallen bridge, the vulture, the large dog, the terrible hag gorging on black cake, the stand of flood-ravaged corn, the umbrella ripped open by a wind we could not feel.
the reverend everly thomas
Our earnest pleadings did no good. The girl would not talk.
hans vollman
We turned to go.
roger bevins iii
Something about the lad had touched her. The umbrella became the corn; the corn the hag; the hag the girl.
hans vollman
She gestured for him to step forward.
roger bevins iii
The lad approaching cautiously, she began to speak in a low voice we could not hear.
hans vollman
XIII.
Younge Mr Bristol desired me, younge Mr Fellowes and Mr Delway desired me, of an evening they would sit on the grass around me and in their eyes burned the fiercest kindest Desire. In my grape smock I would sit in the wikker chair amid that circle of admiring fierce kind eyes even unto the night when one or another boy would lay back and say, Oh the stars, and I would say, O yes, how fine they look tonight, while (I admit) imagining reclining there beside him, and the other boys, seeing me looking at the reklining one, would also imagine going down to recline there beside me.
It was all very
Then Mother would send Annie to come get me.
I was too early departed. From that party, from that
Brite promise of nights and nights of that, culminating in a choise, and the choise being made, it would be rite, and would become Love, and Love would become baby, and that is all I ask
I want ed so much to hold a dear Babe.
I know very wel I do not look as prety as I onseh. And over time, I admit, I have come to know serten words I did not formerly
Fuk cok shit reem ravage assfuk
And to know, in my mind, serten untoward kwarters where such things
Dim rum swoggling plases off bakalleys
Kome to love them
Crave them plases. And feel such anger.
I did not get any. Thing.
Was gone too soon
To get
Only forteen.
Yrs of aje
Plese do come again sir it has been a pleasure to make your
But fuk yr anshient frends (do not bring them agin) who kome to ogle and mok me and ask me to swindle no that is not the werd slender slander that wich I am doing. Wich is no more than what they are doing. Is it not so? What I am doing, if I only cary on fathefully, will, I am sure, bring about that longed-for return to
Green grass kind looks.
elise traynor
XIV.
Leaving that place the lad went quiet.
That will happen to me? he said.
It most certainly will, Mr. Vollman said.
It is—it is somewhat happening already, the Reverend added delicately.
roger bevins iii
We had reached the place where the dirt path drops down.
the reverend everly thomas
Near Freeley. Near Stevens. Near the four infant Nesbitts and their head-bent Angel.
roger bevins iii
Near Masterton. Near Ambusti. Near the obelisk and the three benches and the high-mounted bust of arrogant Merridale.
hans vollman
I believe, then, that I must do as you say, the boy said.
Good lad, said Mr. Vollman.
roger bevins iii
XV.
We embraced the boy at the door of his white stone home.
hans vollman
He gave us a shy smile, not untouched by trepidation at what was to come.
the reverend everly thomas
Go on, Mr. Bevins said gently. It is for the best.
hans vollman
Off you go, Mr. Vollman said. Nothing left for you here.
roger bevins iii
Goodbye then, the lad said.
Nothing scary about it, Mr. Bevins said. Perfectly natural.
hans vollman
Then it happened.
roger bevins iii
An extraordinary occurrence.
hans vollman
Unprecedented, really.
the reverend everly thomas
The boy’s gaze moved past us.
hans vollman
He seemed to catch sight of something beyond.
roger bevins iii
His face lit up with joy.
hans vollman
Father, he said.
the reverend everly thomas
XVI.
An exceedingly tall and unkempt fellow was making his way toward us through the darkness.
hans vollman
This was highly irregular. It was after hours; the front gate would be locked.
the reverend everly thomas
The boy had been delivered only that day. That is to say, the man had most likely been here—
roger bevins iii
Quite recently.
hans vollman
That afternoon.
roger bevins iii
Highly irregular.
the reverend everly thomas
The gentleman seemed lost. Several times he stopped, looked about, retraced his steps, reversed course.
hans vollman
He was softly sobbing.
roger bevins iii
He was not sobbing. My friend remembers incorrectly. He was winded. He did not sob.
hans vollman
He was softly sobbing, his sadness aggravated by his mounting frustration at being lost.
roger bevins iii
He moved stiffly, all elbows and knees.
the reverend everly thomas
Bursting out of the doorway, the lad took off running toward the man, look of joy on his face.
roger bevins iii
Which turned to consternation when the man failed to sweep him up in his arms as, one gathered, must have been their custom.
the reverend everly thomas
The boy instead passing through the man, as the man continued to walk toward the white stone home, sobbing.
roger bevins iii
He was not sobbing. He was very much under control and moved with great dignity and certainty of—
hans vollman
He was fifteen yards away now, headed directly toward us.
roger bevins iii
The Reverend suggested we yield the path.
hans vollman
The Reverend having strong feelings about the impropriety of allowing oneself to be passed through.
roger bevins iii
The man reached
the white stone home and let himself in with a key, the lad then following him in.
hans vollman
Mr. Bevins, Mr. Vollman, and I, concerned for the boy’s welfare, moved into the doorway.
the reverend everly thomas
The man then did something—I do not quite know how to—
hans vollman
He was a large fellow. Quite strong, apparently. Strong enough to be able to slide the boy’s—
the reverend everly thomas
Sick-box.
hans vollman
The man slid the box out of the slot in the wall, and set it down upon the floor.
roger bevins iii
And opened it.
hans vollman
Kneeling before the box, the man looked down upon that which—
the reverend everly thomas
He looked down upon the lad’s supine form in the sick-box.
hans vollman
Yes.
the reverend everly thomas
Lincoln in the Bardo Page 3