Absurdly, he thought of Deeny’s father. He had not started all this. If Paul’s vision was any indication, Mayhem has been arguing with humankind for quite some time, but he was the start of it for Deeny, and in turn for Sean, and finally Paul. The man had contracted a fever, then found this necklace in the woods where Paul had later built his little mansion. Deeny’s father had then killed his wife and son, promising Deeny that the necklace would provide.
What did it mean?
Deeny had become convinced it meant nothing, that everything that had happened was simply his father’s insanity, which now belonged to Paul.
But how could that be true?
What about the clocks?
What about the clocks?
And then Paul remembered Paul, and his own desires took precedence over everything and everyone else. He remembered how he could do things for himself. He owed nothing to the world or anyone or anything.
If the necklace wouldn’t guide him, then he would guide himself.
He then became an agent fully unto himself.
He just remembered that he was God.
3
The camp was disintegrating into non-existence.
The tents and bodies and tables and televisions and PlayStations and targets and toys did not so much dissolve as they did cease to occupy space. The trees around them followed suit. Everything was being deleted here. Even the soldiers who still lived were disappearing. Soon, only Davis and Jeffs remained. Matthews, Chase, and Clare watched as Jeffs leaned over the bare spot of earth on which Davis lay, dying.
Their conversation was less than reassuring.
Davis said, “You knowed you was always my favorite captain.”
Jeffs said, “Davis, I always respected you. I loved you.”
They held hands. Davis coughed up blood, which kept evaporating. His eyes were glassy and milky as a cow’s.
“I knowed that. You didn’t think I was just a kid.”
“No. Never.”
“Looks like I’m on my way out, Cap’n…”
“No. Not you.” Jeffs cradled Davis’ head in the crook of his arm. Around them, the world continued to disappear, replaced by a charcoal gray nothingness. Clare grabbed Chase’s hand, and both of them stepped closer to Matthews. Thankfully there was still ground beneath them.
Jeffs said, “I swore to your mother nothing would happen to you.”
Davis said, “Sorry.” He coughed. “I don’t like it anymore than Garfield likes Mondays.”
“I know you think he hates Jon, but he doesn’t.”
Matthews, Clare, and Chase shared glances. A true grimness settled upon them. This bizarre turn of conversation had done more to convince them their time at Kidney Lake together was coming to an end than even the disappearance of the forest.
“…he does,” Davis was saying, presumably meaning Jon Arbuckle.
Jeffs said, “Socialism is a philosophy of failure, the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy. Its inherent virtue is the equal sharing of misery.”
To this, Davis responded, in the same tone of melodramatic theater death, “In my opinion, nothing has contributed so much to the corruption of the original idea of socialism as the belief that Russia is a socialist country and that every act of its rulers must be excused, if not imitated.”
Lovingly, Jeffs said, “The scientific fact of clairvoyance, telepathy, soul-flight, psychometry, and prophecy are well established by incontrovertible evidence, yet to mention them in certain circles is to ostracize yourself.”
Davis seemed to ponder this for a time, and then said, “A man will not believe in an eternal God so long as daily wants are his primary concern. To truly see the face of God is to see yourself as part of the grand system of love. Then it is easy to see the person, the being, the man that is the almighty creator.”
“I’ve got an almighty hankering for some ribs,” Jeffs said.
Davis giggled, and said, “Do you have TP for my bunghole? I would hate for my holio to get polio.”
Jeffs nodded gravely and said, “Shut up, fart-knocker.” Then laid his head on Davis. Before the three watching could do or say anything Jeffs turned to them, looking resigned and depressed as a Holocaust survivor. There was no mirth or humor on his face as he said, “Discretion is cool,” and melted into Davis, his eyes running out of his sockets and mixing with his liquid nose and lips.
They sank into the earth, leaving only dirt.
And with that, the camp and everyone in it was gone. There were no more trees, only a disc of blank ground on which the three stood. The horizon was only the change from gray to the red of the sky.
Chase held Clare tightly, and asked Matthews, “What was that? What is happening here?”
Matthews said, “I don’t know.”
Clare smiled and kissed Chase flat on the mouth. “Sorry I’m just a kid.”
Before Chase could respond, the sky started falling in big red chunks. Behind it there was nothing, not even the vacuum of space.
CHAPTER FOUR
oooooooooooooo
I’M STILL
ME.
I know. And I’m—
Oh, Chase…
excuse me
And what is this
beg your pardon
is this the this is the dance.
You mean the Viper’s/Fire/Last Great Dance.
yes
I think I get what they were saying about socialism.
which one?
shut up shut up.
Chase?
I’m trying to make sense of this.
I’m trying to make sense of this.
I’m trying to make sense of this.
† † †
Do you think they are still alive?
The rest of the world.
You mean The World.
yes
how should i know anything
† † †
indistinct laughter echoing as from a great distance
Not everything is dead; there is still life inside of me. That man harmon’s baby.
ham man’s babe
indistinct laughter echoing as from a great distance
The baby.
yes… the baby. but also just me. I’m still me.
the laughter grows and grows in intensity sickness volume and size
the echoes increase
† † †
I never thought of you in that way. I never thought of you as a sex object. At least, I never wanted to. I always secretly wanted you to respect me. You were the one who liked drugs. Not me. You were the one who loved that life; I simply loved you and so I gave in to it. You didn’t ever see this about us, but it’s true. I followed you. And I know that because you would have been that way without me, but I never would have without you. I don’t want you to think you’re responsible for my death. I was an adult, capable of making my own decisions and protecting myself. There’s no reason to dwell on it now, but I can’t help but wish that it had happened differently; I wish we were still together and that we had never touched that life.
Clare said, “Oh. I never realized that.
Goodbye Mitchel.”
the old red of the sky no longer glowing. nothing is glowing.
they can feel him approaching, or is he already there
Wow. You’re in some kind of vortex or something. Do you think I am still alive? How about your children? You just had to be a pilot, even though you know I’m afraid of heights. Do you honestly think that I could have stayed married to you after that? You’re crazy if you think that. You are insane. Do you believe that your children are alive?
“Not yet.” Chase felt bad for his ex-wife, but he was glad she wasn’t around to nag him anymore. He missed his children. He wondered what they would think of Clare, but then he remembered that it was the Last Great Dance. He probably wouldn’t be seeing them again.
† † †
ohfineithought about the dyingthings didn’tknow enough about Africa and
all that
to starttalking about other countries and culturesbut they’re
all outthere living the Last Great Dance; living up inmayhem
waiting for paulpaul
didn’tknow enoughabout northkoreaand all that, butliving
throughtheLast Great Dance inthose citiesthoseplaces too much too
a hand is on clare clark, a maddening carressing hand
He is touching her.
† † †
holy men and women of many faiths throughout the world—small in number
//perhaps//
vast in power—who felt the tiny inkling of what was happening. made them aware of this change also warned them to continue their lives as if nothing were wrong.
these people trusted in such feelings and
//nothing// was done
† † †
Still alone, huh? Never did find yourself that woman you always imagined: plump, friendly, and what a good cook. Still out there playing the hero, trying to fix the whole world, but still alone. Your church says you will have the chance to marry even after death, you can’t seriously believe that, can you? It’s BS and you know it. You need to go home Shad, you need a little rest, take some pills or something. Oh yes, please don’t remind me, you still think you need to stop Paul. Are you so delusional? Are you so stupid?
Matthews wasn’t feeling very good, like a sick kid in Africa with a big ol distended belly dying from hunger looking like an overstuffed rich person
∆ ∆ ∆
she fears He will abort the baby, she doesn’t know what His intentions are
He is touching her somewhere between her breasts,
like He is trying to get inside her chest,
He is trying to burrow into the thin skin stretched over her rib-cage,
He is trying to get to her heart, which is still beating.
“AAHHRRHH!!!”
∆ ∆ ∆
im sick up and out.
murder
more like
new murders
whn it starts below the waiste – b low the belt
that sickening sound
the squishing of it
do you remember the first time you lied to your father
pinalyg tkrcis lkie smoe kind of migiaacn
becoming an agent, fully unto yourself
wrote a little secret poem once not like a good little boy
this:
…………………………………………
on the quaint decrepit wooden porch
have i thought this before?
July becomes fall as i cut kiss for kiss
leaning into the smell between bones
we could spend all night trying
fine tune the metaphor:
how sin is murder
you take my meaning
i lay your skin in sheets
then press down for the air
its easy
simple
a kiss turns deadly
you and i are deadly
despite our love
i’ll twist my hands again
your eyes awake come August
on the decrepit wooden porch
have you thought this before?
thinking of my lips
my cheeks my nose
my brows
avoid the searching red eyes
the rubies
the lovers of July
…………………………
∆ ∆ ∆
she is screaming the others can hear her but they cannot
place the sound
they don’t realize that she is in trouble
and even if they did, it isn’t something they can stop
He is in charge of Himself right now
and clare is screaming like a wildfire
∆ ∆ ∆
“You killed me. You crushed my windpipe.”
“We were going to have a baby.”
Jen’s voice is lingering. It is an idea inside the Dance.
∆ ∆ ∆
hands explode within clare, he got into her through her chest
agonizing pain sounds like an alarm for his hands, of which there are many, are inside her.
they wriggle, the hands, they force their way through her arms, displacing blood vessels and muscles and nerves
she is very much awake and alive, the hands are traveling through her legs but she does not know why or what they are trying to do or what they are looking for.
∆ ∆ ∆
one of his hands is inside her throat she can taste his greasy fingers on the back of her tongue, interfering with her nose like pool water. it’s bad.
He’s in her brain now, but that isn’t as bad
everything there has been numbed
the worst thing the hands will do is still to come, and somehow, somehow
she knows this.
“Clare, when you were a kid did you ever see that show Rocko’s Modern Life?
I only ask because my niece used to love that show.” Matthews isn’t sure what made him think of this.
“Yeah,” Chase is saying, “my little brothers used to watch it too.
You wouldn’t believe the crappy cartoons my kids are watching these days.”
“I mean, that Rocko show was actually pretty funny sometimes.”
Yeah, it was.
It was.
So how about it Clare? You ever watch it?
∞ ∞ ∞
one hand, one which she senses is the dominant hand,
is in her womb. the pain is beyond description or imagination
if she could murder herself at this moment she would
anyone would
∞ ∞ ∞
she doesn’t know how much longer she can remain sane,
she thinks that she will loose any sense of herself if the intrusion continues
the child within her is squirming, reacting to the dominant hand.
He is touching the baby with his burrowing hand.
the baby is reaching out with its little alien fingers
How far along is the baby?
daaaaaang
if the baby calls him father she will lose her mind
∞ ∞ ∞
if the baby loves him she will kill herself
she does not know how to kill herself
∞ ∞ ∞
I am thinking about killing you. I should not be debating. I can’t blame this on Deeny now, can I? I feel as if I will be lonely, and yet loneliness is among what will be destroyed. When everything is gone—everything—there will be no sadness.
This is where the others backed down.
ƒ ƒ ƒ
I have thought about asking you out for a long time, but I was always too afraid. Not so much that you would say no or yes, but if I really wanted to face another relationship. It seems silly now.
ƒ ƒ ƒ
I see now I was not chosen in the typical sense. Mayhem did not look to me and say, “Yes. That is the man who will do it. That is the man who will not flinch.” I am Mayhem. And I didn’t look at myself.
ƒ ƒ ƒ
It bothered me that he never asked me about my day. I know it’s stupid, because I could always tell him, and he was always happy to listen, but I don’t think he ever asked me. He’s been dead for a few years now. I guess I still think about it. I wonder how things would have been different if he had asked me. You know, just sometimes. Probably nothing would have been different.
ƒ ƒ ƒ
But that does not mean it was not destiny. I will also destroy destiny. I keep thinking of all the things that I will be destroying and I do not think I will flinch. I feel sad, but I feel peace, and I sense horror. A calmness has washed over me and over everything. It is as if everything is exhaling for the last time.
ƒ ƒ ƒ
When I got the acceptance letter, I was excited. I kept looking at it. I must have told everyone in town. I was going to MIT. I knew I
should be acting more grown-up, but I felt like I did as a little girl on Christmas morning. It was better than Christmas. Better than fairy wings or a new Barbie. It was more than just a gift, it was a reflection of what I had accomplished, of who I had become. It said I was smart and that I was putting my intelligence to use. I would miss my home and the small-town community college, but also my mind kept wandering to the thought that I might meet my future husband at MIT. Imagine, me marrying someone who went to MIT; ha ha, I guess he’d be married to someone who went to MIT, too. Ha ha.
ƒ ƒ ƒ
I am touching this little baby. I don’t really know why. Denny loved it, I guess. He gave his life to protect it. But what does that matter? Soon I will destroy sacrifice. I sense that it hurts Clare when I touch her body from the inside. Hurt, too, shall be destroyed.
ƒ ƒ ƒ
I wanted to get my sister something special for her birthday that year. She’d just lost her husband, who was in Iraq, and her and her kid just weren’t feeling a lot of hope just then. I know there was a bigger plan. I was already at peace with it, but I knew that wasn’t going to help her just then. She needed something to be excited about. Both of them. One word: France. I couldn’t really afford it, but I still don’t regret that trip. Ha ha, even if I am still paying it off. Everything seemed better after that. You know? I think I might have needed that vacation, too.
Tomorrow I Will Kill Again Page 33