Page 127
"Goblin's strange words meant nothing to me, absolutely nothing. In fact, I even suspected him of the most base jealousy, and all of his recent behavior seemed cause to doubt his love. Yes, I was drawing away from him. Yes, Goblin Quinn was going to die. It had to happen because Manhood was going to make it happen.
"And on the battlefield of Manhood, Mona was my Princess and the Mysterious Stranger a dark knight riding near me or even against me in a joust of which I was only just learning the rules.
"We would come to know each other, the dark knight and myself. W
e would talk together in the Hermitage. I would penetrate the illusion of the bodies being given over to the dark waters. I would discover that it had been a sort of dream. Anything so very bad had to be a dream. Take Rebecca for instance. Rebecca came in dreams.
"What more could I do for poor Rebecca? Of course I could not give her 'a life for a life, a death for a death. ¡¯
"I went back upstairs. The windows were closed. The air-conditioning hummed. No sign of Goblin. I went to the window and looked down on the west lawn. I could see in the distance the dim white shapes of the cemetery in the moonlight. I said a prayer for Rebecca, that her soul was in Heaven with God.
"Very reluctantly I lay down to sleep beside Big Ramona, and when I woke it was to the murky dawn, and I had the heavy tasks of Manhood upon me. "
Chapter29
29
"MY FIRST MANLY TASK WAS to get to the Hermitage, and I wasn't fool enough to think I could collect those rusted chains alone. I took Allen with me. The Shed Men always arrived around six o'clock, so they could go home at three, and when I told him where we were headed he was convivial and all but hopped into the pirogue with me.
"It was and still is Allen's nature to find everything in life pleasurable. He's a big roundly built man with neat white hair combed to one side, and silver-rimmed glasses and a perpetual smile; he plays Santa Claus at Christmas parties with huge success.
"Anyway, when we reached the Hermitage it wasn't seven o'clock yet, and we went to our task with the best tools we had and soon gathered up all the rusted chains, dragging them down the steps after us.
"I had to force myself to set out for home, so strong was my fascination with the Hermitage, but I knew I had much to do this day and so after a little walk around, during which time I imagined my renovations with great approval and success, we were in the pirogue again.
"When we got back to the landing and I told Allen we were going to bury the chain with Rebecca's remains he went into a state of sustained hilarity.
"Nevertheless, I dug deep in the soil. I found the casket. I made the hole very very wide. I wreathed the chains around the casket. And then Allen helped me fill in the dirt and the headstone was replaced, and as I said my prayers Allen prayed with me.
"I felt no shimmer of Rebecca. I felt no dizziness. But as I stood there in the still morning I felt sorrow for all the ghosts I had seen in the cemetery over the years and wondered if I was fated to be a roaming spirit after my death.
"Nothing like that had ever occurred to me before. But I thought of it now. I said another long silent prayer for Rebecca and then I whispered, 'Go into the Light. ¡¯
"And so my first manly task had been completed.
"On to the second: of course Allen knew where Terry Sue lived, and to that spot we drove in the Mercedes. I told Allen I would go in alone, but even before entering the trailer I had a fair idea that Grady Breen, our attorney, had not exaggerated the state of ongoing disaster.
"There were the rusted ruined automobiles that he had described, one an old limousine and the other a pickup truck, neither with any tires, and two toddlers were roaming the yard, both with filthy faces and diapers.
"I knocked, then went in. Tucked at the very end of the trailer there was a voluptuous woman in the bed, a woman with the face of a big china doll, nursing a baby, and a little girl, perhaps ten years old and barefoot, was stirring a pot on the stove of what looked and smelled like grits. The little girl's arms were covered in bruises and she had a shy fearful manner to her. She had a pretty face and long black hair.
"The closeness of the place, the crowded damp feel of it was overwhelming. And so was the smell. I can best describe it as a mixture of urine, vomit and mildew. There might have been some rotten fruit in the recipe. And certainly there was excrement as well.
" 'I'm sorry to break in on you like this,' I said to the woman. I felt like a giant under the low ceiling. 'Congratulations on your new baby. ¡¯
" 'Did you bring any money?' she asked. Her face stayed lovely -- she looked like a Renaissance Madonna -- but her voice was full of meanness, or maybe it was just practicality. 'I'm broke and Charlie's walked out on me again,' she said. 'My stitches are torn and I'm running a fever. ¡¯
" 'Yeah, I have plenty money,' I said. I reached into my pockets and took out the thousand dollars I'd taken out of the kitchen petty cash box. She was appropriately flabbergasted. She took it with her left hand and shoved it in a pocket under the covers. Or just under the covers.
"The baby was miraculous. I had never seen one so tiny, so nearly newborn. Its little wrinkly new hands were marvelous. It already had a head of dark wispy hair. My heart went out to it.
" 'Brittany, hurry up with that grits,' said the woman, 'and go get those kids, I'm going to need you to walk into town and get some groceries. ' She looked up at me. 'You want some breakfast? This child cooks the best breakfast. Brittany, put on the bacon. Go get those kids. ¡¯
" 'I'll take her into town,' I said. 'Where's Tommy?¡¯
" 'Out in the woods,' she said in a sardonic tone. 'Like he always is. Reading a picture book. I told him if he didn't take that book back to the store he was going to go to jail. They're going to come get him. He stole that book. And they knew he did. That woman at the store is as crazy as he is. They're going to come get him. And they ought to take her to jail too. ¡¯
" 'Does he have any other books?' I asked.
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