Copyright © 2017 by Matthew McIntosh
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Designed and coded by Mrs. Matthew McIntosh
Published simultaneously in Canada
First published by Grove Atlantic, 2017
FIRST EDITION
eISBN 978 0 8021 8917 2
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is available for this title.
Grove Press
an imprint of Grove Atlantic
154 West 14th Street
New York, NY 10011
Distributed by Publishers Group West
groveatlantic.com
First published in Great Britain in 2017 by Grove Press UK, an imprint of Grove/Atlantic Inc.
e-Book ISBN 978 1 61185 952 2
A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library.
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(fortellcometell.wav
Created Friday, March 23, 2007 10:49 pm)
All right, Pop. This, this is the very beginning of the book… The very beginning of the book. Part one. Page one. [clears throat]
For tell,
come tell,
then tell
me,
is there anything more delightful than to see this very moment before our eyes, as it were, a great lake of pitch, boiling hot, and swimming and writhing about in it a swirling mass of serpents, snakes, lizards, and many other kind of grisly and savage creatures,
and then to hear a dismal voice
a plaintive voice
an extremely sad voice
from the lake, crying:
‘You knight, whoever you are, you who stare at this awful lake
Knight, whosoever thou art who beholdest this dread lake
Thou, O knight, whosoever thou mayest be, who looketh upon this fearful lake,
if you wish to reach the guerdon
the prize
the treasure
hidden beneath these black waters, show the valor of your
stout
mighty
dauntless heart
and plunge into the midst of this dark, seething flood,
for if you do not do so, you will not be worthy to see the mighty marvels hidden within the seven castles of the seven fairies who dwell beneath these murky waters?’
No sooner has the knight heard this grim voice than without further thought for himself, without pausing to consider the peril to which he is exposed and without relieving himself of his weighty armor,
he commends himself to God and his lady,
to God and his lady,
to God and his lady,
and casts himself into the middle of the seething pool;
there, when he least expects it, and when he knows not when it will end,
and when he little looks for it, or knows what his fate is to be
and when he cannot see or imagine where he will land…
he finds himself among flowered meadows,
flowery meadows,
flowering meadows,
whose beauty far exceeds the Elysian fields.
There the sky seems to him more transparent, and the sun to shine with fresher radiance.
He sees before him a plead—a pleasant wooded glade of green and leafy trees whose verdure rejoices his eyes
charms his sight
brings joy to his eyes,
while his ears are lulled by the gentle and spontaneous song of tiny painted birds that are amid the interlacing branches
while the ear is soothed by the sweet untutored melody of the countless birds of gay plumage that flit to and fro among the interlacing branches
while his ears are charmed by the sweet, untutored song of the infinite number of small, brightly-colored birds that fly among the intricate branches…
Then he discovers a little stream whose clear waters like liquid crystal—
[door opens]
Claire: Anything different? No?
No.
Claire: …Yeah…[whispers] Let’s get some of that out of there…………… Oh, it’s kind of full.
It’s what?
Claire: It’s full.
His mouth?
Claire: Yeah. Down here, it just gets full of phlegm……………………… Gosh, it’s just impossible for him to still be doing this!… Colder.
Yeah?
Claire: Feel the hands.
Yeah, his hands are getting cold.
Claire: Oh! His feet are getting cold. Compared to how he’s been. But you know, he could go hours because of the way he’s been doing what he’s doing… You’re just doin it the hard way, sonny-baby… The tongue is what’s so interesting to me.
What about it?
Claire: His tongue—well, see how it’s turned over to the side?
Yeah.
Claire: I can’t tell if it’s swollen or just… kind of turned……… You go out of the room and come back, you see how gray he is.
Yeah. Yeah, when you’re here, you just—
Claire: You get used to it.
You get used to it, don’t you?
Claire: Yeah…You OK, babe? We’re just here with you, OK? Me and the kids: Annie, and Jon, and Matt. We love you! K? You’re doin a good job! You’re workin hard, and we’re proud of you! And we love you! K? Love you!…Because the nurses say he can hear us.
Uh-huh.
Claire: Yeah. Huh?
Yeah, didn’t they tell you that?
Claire: Yeah………… K? We’re so proud of you, babe! It’s all right! You did good, and you’re doing well now, K?… You do what you need to do and we’ll just be here for you, K?… You just do what you need to do. We’d like it to be over for you but… you do what you need to do, K? Feel like you could stop, if you wanted to just be done, and that would be OK. But if you… if you want to stay a little bit longer, we’re OK. OK?… [sighs] It’s impossible that he’s still doin this……
Yeah.
Claire: { }…
[door closes]
………………………………………………………………………………[clears throat]…
Then he discovers a little stream whose clear waters like liquid crystal glide over fine sand and white pebbles that resemble sifted gold and purest pearl. There he perceives a fountain wrought of mottled jasper and polished marble, here another, roughly fashioned, where small mussel shells with the twisted white and yellow houses of the snail set in disordered order, and alternating
with fragments of glittering crystal and counterfeit emeralds, combine to create so varied a composition that Art, imitating Nature, seems here to surpass her.
Then, all of a sudden, in the distance appears a strong castle, or sightly palace, whose walls are of beaten gold, its turrets of diamonds, its gates of jacinth. It is also—it is so admirably built in fact, that though the materials of which it is built are nothing less than diamonds, carbuncles, rubies, pearls, gold and emeralds, the workmanship is even more precious…
And after this, could one see a fairer sight than a goodly train of damsels sallying forth from the castle gate, in such a gay and gorgeous attire, that if I were to describe it as the histories do, I should never finish?
And then she,
who seems to be the first among them, takes the bold knight who plunged into the burning lake,
by the hand,
and silently
leads him into the rich palace or castle,
bathes him in warm water
and anoints him
all over
his entire body
with sweet-smelling ointments,
and clothes him in a shirt of the softest sendal
all fragranced and perfumed, while another damsel hastens to throw over his shoulders, a mantle that they say is worth the price of a city, and even more……….
What better sight, after all this
when they tell us, that after all this they lead him into another hall, where he finds the tables laid in such style that he is filled with
amazement
and wonder?
And to see him sprinkling on his hands water, distilled with ambergris, and sweet-smelling flowers?
How they sit him on an ivory chair?
And to see all the damsels wait upon him,
in silence
in wondrous silence
preserving their miraculous silence and bringing him such a varied profusion of delicacies so deliciously cooked that his appetite does not toward which of them—does not know toward which of them to stretch his hand?
What pleasure then to hear the music that plays while he is at table
by whom or whence produced he knows not!
And when the
repast
is ended
and the tables cleared
and the knight is reclining in his chair,
perhaps picking his teeth as the custom is,
when suddenly another damsel,
much more beautiful than any of the others,
enters
unexpectedly, by the chamber door………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………[sighs]……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
[door opens]
Grove Press
Resplendent and unfading is Wisdom,
and she is readily perceived by those who love her,
and found by those who seek her.
Wisdom 6:12
ACT I
HOME & GARDEN
—holy Mary mother of God—
—holy Mary mother of God—
8695, good morning, have a good day!
Hi, what’s your number again please?
8-695
Oh my god, I’m on the 83rd floor!
86—86 what?
I’m on the 83rd floor!
Ma’am, calm down one moment—86 what?
8695.
★
Live Conversation with
Michele
Michele:Hello, I am Michele, I am the website greeter. Welcome to WebsiteGreeters.com.
Michele:May I know your name please?
Visitor 1969:Hello, Michele.
Michele:hi :)
Michele:May I have your name please?
Visitor 1969:Is this an automated program or is there a live person on the other end?
Michele:I am a live person
Michele:This is not automated.. Live assistance is what we sell :)
Visitor 1969:Assistance in doing what?
Michele:We assist the customers with any queries they have
Visitor 1969:Any sort of queries?
Michele:We are trained according to different business models we are representing
Visitor 1969:which sort of business models do you represent?
Michele:Yes we actually understand what type of questions we will have to answer on any particular website.
Michele:by monitoring the initial chats we have
Visitor 1969:What sorts of things have you chatted about recently?
Michele:hmm, I have chatted the same way with some other customers on our website.
Michele:Just the way I am chatting with you
Michele:Do you have a website?
Visitor 1969:Doesn’t everyone?
Michele:Yes, actually I wanted to know your website address if that’s ok?
Visitor 1969:Why do you want to know that?
Michele:Just wanted to have a look at it. Are you interested in using our service on your website?
Visitor 1969:What kind of service do you--Wait a second, are you trying to sell me something?
Michele:The live chat service
Michele:We will have a team of greeters assisting the visitors on your website.
Visitor 1969:May I be honest with you for a moment, Michele?
Michele:sure
Visitor 1969:Thank you. First let me ask a question of you. What country are you in right now?
Michele:USA
Visitor 1969:Me too. What part?
Michele:Chicago
Visitor 1969:What’s the weather like in Chicago today?
[Time passing]
Michele:It’s partly cloudy.
Michele:what about your side?
Visitor 1969: You’re right! Partly cloudy is exactly what it says on weather.com for Chicago’s weather. It also says 60 degrees, and that it feels like 60 degrees. On my side it is…i have to check weather.com…partly cloudy. 44 degrees. Feels like 39 degrees.
[
session terminated by
Michele
]
CHAPTER ONE
It was one of those plots where you wake up and you don’t know who you are. You feel like you’ve been through the mill. Your head aches. Your ribs ache. Your arms ache. Your hands, your fingers. Everything aches. You know you did something—or somebody did something to you—but what that was now completely escapes you. You’re awake. And it’s like you’re still coming out of a dream. And you wait a little while for the facts of the matter to settle in your mind. Who, what, where, when, why… You know, like everyone knows, that coming out of a dream can be a confusing time. Sometimes it takes a while for the dream to split off and fade away. You’re in a familiar room but you don’t recognize anything. The bed seems like it’s your own but you think it’s someone else’s. Or you think you’re somewhere other than you are. That’s all perfectly normal. A transition from one state to another. Well, this dream splits, it breaks off, it fades, but nothing takes its place. Just the ache. And a girl at the closet stepping into a skirt, saying:
“I’m super late, so I’m gonna drive, OK?”
I couldn’t see her well. She was just a blur. I groped around the bedside table for a pair of glasses that weren’t there.
So I lay back, watching the blurry form
as it dressed. Tall girl, short stylish hair, platinum blonde, a good figure—that’s about all I could tell. A small room. Modest. Curtains closed. A sound like an airplane going over.
She zipped up her skirt in the back.
“How are you feeling?” she said.
“Sore.”
“I bet. Too much time on that ladder.”
She left the room. The old hardwood creaked beneath her feet. I heard her voice from the other room.
“I had to change my number, remember? New one’s on the counter.” She came back in. “OK?”
“OK.”
She sat down on the bed. Dark blurry face. Her light hair like a corona.
“Why don’t you take a break from scraping. You’ve still got a month of summer. Take the day off. Why don’t you go back to your book? Do some writing. You get so grumpy when you’re not working on it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Maybe tonight I can read some more.” She leaned forward and kissed me.
Pretty face. Almond-shaped eyes.
“Your glasses are in the bathroom. I borrowed them, sorry. There’s coffee in the kitchen. And a smoothie in the fridge.”
“OK.”
“You all right, babe? You look kind of dazed.”
“Yeah, fine.”
Instinctively a person knows that if he wakes up in a strange place with a strange woman calling him babe he should just go along with things and pretend he’s in control of the situation, that everything’s fine. Things go wrong quickly when you share information with strangers who say they’re your friends.
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