the reverend everly thomas
On other days, everyone she met manifested as a giant mustache with legs.
hans vollman
Yes, her way is hard.
roger bevins iii
Not so hard. She’s a rich one.
You can tell by her voice.
mrs. abigail blass
Young sir, may I ask—a kindness?
jane ellis
Snooty.
mrs. abigail blass
If you are allowed back to that previous place, will you check Cathryn’s clothing and console Maribeth and tell Alice it is not a sin to fail in one’s first attempt? Assure them I have been thinking of them since I arrived here and am trying to make my way home, and that even as the ether was administered, I was thinking of them, of them and only—
jane ellis
Take the money, I said. I am calm.
mr. maxwell boise
Again pushed aside?
Because I am small?
mrs. abigail blass
Perhaps it is because you are so dirty.
roger bevins iii
I live close to the ground, sir. As I believe you—
mrs. abigail blass
Your slippers are absolutely black with filth.
roger bevins iii
Take the money, I said. I am calm.
You will also, sir, please, remain calm, I said. We have no enmity between us of which I am aware. Let us regard this as a simple business transaction. I will hand you my wallet, just so, and then, with your permission, be on my—
No, no, no.
No no no.
Entirely the wrong & illogical thing for you to—
Low stars, blurred rooftops.
& I am punc tured.
mr. maxwell boise
Try now, Mrs. Blass.
roger bevins iii
Mrs. Blass, notoriously frugal, filthy, gray-haired, and tiny (smaller than a baby), spent her nights racing about, gnawing at rocks and twigs, gathering these things to her, defending them zealously, passing the long hours counting and recounting these meager possessions.
the reverend everly thomas
The opportunity to finally address the lad, there in front of that festive crowd, struck that diminutive lady with a sudden case of stage-fright.
hans vollman
You have one thousand three hundred dollars in the First Bank, I believe?
the reverend everly thomas
Yes.
Thank you, Reverend.
I have one thousand three hundred dollars in the First Bank. In an upstairs room I will not specify I have four thousand in gold coin. I have two horses and fifteen goats and thirty-one chickens and seventeen dresses, worth, in total, some three thousand, eight hundred dollars. But am a widow. What seems like abundance is in fact scarcity. The tide runs out but never runs in. The stones roll downhill but do not roll back up. Therefore you will understand my reluctance to indulge in wastefulness. I have over four hundred twigs and nearly sixty pebbles of various sizes. I have two dead-bird parts, dirt motes too numerous to count. Before retiring I count my dead-bird parts, twigs, pebbles, and motes, rending each with my teeth to ensure all are still real. Upon waking I often find myself short several items. Proving the presence of thieves and justifying those tendencies for which many here (I know they do) judge me harshly. But they are not old women, menaced by frailty, surrounded by enemies, the tide going only out, out, out…
mrs. abigail blass
So many were still waiting A shifting mass of gray and black As far as the eye could People in the moonlight outside pushing and shoving, standing on tip-toe to see
Me
Faces thrusting into the doorway to blurt their sad This or that None were content All had been wronged Neglected Overlooked Misunderstood Many wore the old-time leggings and wigs and
willie lincoln
When in my merry red Jacket of Velvet I moved past Flower-bright Hedges in the full Flush of my Youth, I cut a fine Figure indeed. All who saw, thought well of Me. Men of the Town would Stutter upon my Approach, my SHARDS would step aside, awed, as I Passed.
This is what I should like the young Swain to know.
And many was the time I pounded my Lust out in the Night to good Result; pounding my good Wife or, if she was indisposed, pounding my SHARDS, whom I called SHARDS, for they were, indeed, dark as Night, like unto so many SHARDS of COAL, which did give me abundant Heat. I need only Seize a SHARD-LASS up, & Ignoring the Cries of her SHARD-MAN, would—
lieutenant cecil stone
Good Lord.
hans vollman
He is in fine form tonight.
roger bevins iii
Bear in mind, Lieutenant: he is but a child.
hans vollman
And ’twas a Goodly thing, to so Diminish that SHARD-MAN in the Eyes of the Others, and this Message going ’round, their Behavior was Improv’d, and the next working Day even the most Behemoth of those SHARDS would lower his Eyes, for it was I who held the WHIP & the PISTOL and each SHARD knew that, were he to Offend me, that Night would be Costly to Him, & my FEE for his Offense would be that one most Dear to him, and I would kick open his Door and drag his LASS out & remove her to my Quarters, and the evening’s Entertainment would Commence, and that SHARD would be made to give off SPARKS. Consequently, my Fields were Quiet, and when any Order was given, a Dozen pair of Hands rushed to Fulfill it, even as those yellow Weary eyes glanced up, to see, did I Note it, and would I Excuse them & theirs from my Pleasure.
In this way I converted SHARD to Ally, & made them Foes to one another.
lieutenant cecil stone
During these confident-aggressive episodes, fueled by these boastful assertions, Lieutenant Stone’s bodily mass would be swept upward into an elongate, vertical body-coiffe. His body-volume remaining constant, this increase in height would render him quite thin, literally pencil-thin in places, tall as the tallest of our pines.
When finished speaking, he would resume his former proportions, becoming again a man of average size, beautifully dressed, but with terrible teeth.
the reverend everly thomas
Young sir, if we may approach? The little lady and me?
eddie baron
Ah, no. No, no. I’m afraid that will not be possible at this—
the reverend everly thomas
F—– that!
betsy baron
Everyone gets a turn! You said!
eddie baron
We was low and fell lower. That’s the main thing we want to—
betsy baron
We didn’t even bother bringing our nice s—– into that s—–hole by the river. After the Swede kicked us out of the place on G.
eddie baron
We couldn’t even fit that f—–er, that beautiful couch, through the s—–y little door of that s—–hole by the river.
betsy baron
I do not even consider that s—–y little door of that s—–hole by the river a door, when I think of that f—–ing door we had on G. What a door! The door on that s—–hole by the river would have been ashamed to call itself a door if it ever saw that f—–ing magnificent door on G.
Still, we had our fun.
eddie baron
By the river.
betsy baron
Everybody soused and throwing each other into the f—–ing drink? With lit stogies and all? And Cziesniewski kept trying to pronounce “Potomac”?
eddie baron
Everybody heaving stones at them washerladies?
betsy baron
Remember when what’s-his-name Tentini almost drowned? Then, when Colonel B. revived him, first thing Tentini did was ask for his f—–ing mug of punch?
eddie baron
Perhaps that is enough, the Reverend said coldly.
roger bevins iii
Remember that time we left little Eddie at the Parade Ground?
betsy baron
After the Polk whatdoyoucal
lit.
eddie baron
We’d had a few.
betsy baron
Didn’t hurt him.
eddie baron
Might’ve helped him.
betsy baron
Made him tougher.
eddie baron
If a horse steps on you, you do not die.
betsy baron
You might limp a bit.
eddie baron
And after that be scared of horses.
betsy baron
And dogs.
eddie baron
But wandering around in a crowd for five hours? Does not kill you.
betsy baron
What I think? It helps you. Because then you know how to wander around in a crowd for five hours without crying or panicking.
eddie baron
Well, he cried and panicked a little. Once he got home.
betsy baron
Ah, sweet C—–, you protect the G——ed little f—–ers from everything, next thing they’re calling you to the privy to wipe their a—–holes.
One thing I’ll say for Eddie Jr. and Mary Mag? They always wiped their own a—–holes.
eddie baron
And we didn’t have no privy.
betsy baron
Just s—– wherever.
eddie baron
Why don’t they ever come see us? That’s what I want to know. How long we been here? A pretty f—–ing long time. And they never once—
betsy baron
F—– them! Those f—–ing ingrate snakes have no G——ed right to blame us for a f—–ing thing until they walk a f—–ing mile in our G——ed shoes and neither f—–ing one of the little s—–heads has walked even a s—–ing half-mile in our f—–ing shoes.
eddie baron
Enough, said the Reverend.
hans vollman
These were the Barons.
roger bevins iii
Drunk and insensate, lying in the road, run over by the same carriage, they had been left to recover from their injuries in an unmarked disreputable common sick-pit just beyond the dreaded iron fence, the only white people therein, thrown in with several members of the dark race, not one among them, pale or dark, with a sick-box in which to properly recover.
hans vollman
It was not quite comme il faut that the Barons should presume to speak to the boy.
the reverend everly thomas
Or be on this side of the fence.
hans vollman
It is not about wealth.
the reverend everly thomas
I was not wealthy.
hans vollman
It is about comportment. It is about, let us say, being “wealthy in spirit.”
the reverend everly thomas
The Barons, however, came and went as they pleased. The fence not being an impediment to them.
hans vollman
As in that previous place, they remained unconstrained.
the reverend everly thomas
Ha.
roger bevins iii
Ha ha.
hans vollman
The Barons were followed in rapid succession by Mr. Bunting (“I certainly have nothing of which to be ashamed”), Mr. Ellenby (“I came to this here town with seven dolers stitched in of my panse and do not intend to go any damn plase until someone tell me where in Hel is my dolers”), and Mrs. Proper Fessbitt (“I request one last Hour during which the terrible pain be not Upon me, so that I may bid Farewell to my Dear Ones in a more Genial spirit”), who inched up to the doorway frozen in the same crabbed, fetal posture in which she had spent her last bedridden year in that previous place.
roger bevins iii
Dozens more still excitedly waited to speak with the lad, buoyant with new hope.
hans vollman
But alas, it was not to be.
the reverend everly thomas
XXVIII.
Presently we became aware, by way of certain familiar signs, that trouble was brewing.
roger bevins iii
It happened as it always happens.
the reverend everly thomas
A hush fell across the premises.
roger bevins iii
The scraping of winter branches against winter branches could be heard.
hans vollman
A warm breeze arose, fragrant with all manner of things that give comfort: grass, sun, beer, bread, quilts, cream—this list being different for each of us, each being differently comforted.
roger bevins iii
Flowers of extraordinary color, size, shape, and fragrance sprang forth fully formed from the earth.
the reverend everly thomas
The gray February trees began to blossom.
hans vollman
Then yielded fruit.
the reverend everly thomas
Fruit responsive to one’s wishing: only let the mind drift in the direction of a certain color (silver, say) and shape (star) and, of the instant, a bounty of star-shaped silver fruits would sag the limbs of a tree that seconds before had stood fruitless and winter-dead.
roger bevins iii
The paths between our mounds, the spaces beneath trees, the seats of the benches, the crooks and limbs of the trees themselves (in short, every available inch of space) became spontaneously filled, then overfilled, with food of every variety: in pots and upon fine plates; on spits run between boughs; in golden troughs; in diamond tureens; in tiny emerald saucebowls.
the reverend everly thomas
A wall of water rushed in from the north, then divided itself with military precision into dozens of sub-streams, such that each stone home and sick-mound soon had its own dedicated tributary; the water in these tributaries then rather flamboyantly converting itself into coffee, wine, whiskey, and back into water again.
hans vollman
All of these things, we knew (the fruited trees, the sweet breeze, the endless food, the magical streams), comprised merely the advance guard, so to speak, of what was coming.
the reverend everly thomas
Of who was coming.
hans vollman
Sent by them to exert a softening effect.
the reverend everly thomas
We steeled ourselves accordingly.
hans vollman
It was best to roll into a ball, cover the ears, close the eyes, mash the face into the earth, thereby plugging the nose.
roger bevins iii
Strength now, all! shouted Mr. Vollman.
the reverend everly thomas
And they were upon us.
hans vollman
XXIX.
They entered in lengthy procession.
hans vollman
Each of us apprehending them in a different guise.
the reverend everly thomas
Young girls in summer dresses, brown-skinned and jolly, hair unbound, weaving strands of grass into bracelets, giggling as they passed: country girls, joyful and gay.
Like me.
Like I had been.
mrs. abigail blass
A swarm of beautiful young brides arrayed in thinnish things, silk collars fluttering.
hans vollman
Angels, attentive to strangely corporeal wings, one large wing per woman, that, upon retraction, became a pale flag, tightly furled, running down the spine.
the reverend everly thomas
Hundreds of exact copies of Gilbert, my first (my only!) lover. As he had looked on our best afternoon in the carriage house, gray horse-towel wrapped carelessly about his waist.
roger bevins iii
My girls. Cathryn, Maribeth, Alice. Multiple duplicates of each, going along hand in hand, hair up in Trenton braids, each wearing her last-Easter dress and holding a single sunflower.
jane ellis
A greeting Party of SHARD-lasses (Arrayed in the crude Smocks they Favor’d, falling off their Shoulders in deliberate Sluttiness) didst come forth to Grovel before me; but I had seen
and Defeated their Ilk many times Before, & did now leave a generous Brown Turd for their Gift, and Retreated me Home, to await their Departure.
lieutenant cecil stone
The brides moved stealthily, like hunters, seeking for any sign of weakness.
hans vollman
Where is my dear Reverend? the lead angel called, her voice redolent of the fragile glass bells we had always rung upon Easter Sunday.
the reverend everly thomas
One of the multiple Gilberts came over and, kneeling beside me, asked, would I kindly unstop my ears and just please look at him?
Something in his voice made it impossible to disobey.
He was beautiful beyond measure.
Come with us, he whispered. Here it is all savagery and delusion. You are of finer stuff. Come with us, all is forgiven.
We know what you did, said a second Gilbert. It is all right.
I did not do it, I said. It is not complete.
It is, the first Gilbert said.
I may yet reverse it, I said.
Dear boy, said the second.
Soften, soften, said a third.
You are a wave that has crashed upon the shore, said a fourth.
Lincoln in the Bardo Page 6