The Dead Father plodding along, at the end of his cable. His long golden robes. His long gray hair to the shoulder. His broad and noble brow.
Awfully calm, said Julie.
Placid as a mailman, Thomas agreed, he is trying to be good.
Harder for him than for thee or me, hes not used to it.
I was never good, until I attained my majority, Thomas said. And even then --
I never bothered my pretty head about it, Julie said. Sometimes I did the right thing and sometimes I did the wrong thing. In difficult cases, I shut my eyes and leaped. A great deal of leaping.
A in those instahat have feelings attached --
I go against them, she said. My feelings. Method of the utmost trustworthiness, learned from the Carmelites.
I follow my feelings, Thomas said, when I find them.
Hes been very quiet.
Not a peep out of him these many miles.
Has he perhaps twigged?
Look on the bright side, Thomas said, and decide that he has not. Its essential.
A grimace from Julie.
The worlds slow stain. Who said that? Preserved from the tagion of, I think, the worlds slow stain.
I blo it if I ever khomas said.
Julie bit off a chew of bhang.
And the men, said Thomas. Some possibility of trouble there.
Nonsehe men will be adequately repensed by the reds and blues and silver streaks we have introduced into the gray tusche of their lives. Dont worry about the men. They are only men after all -- a tractor could have dohe job as well.
The position would have suffered, Thomas said. Think of it: Up there, the een, the Old Incibles, hauling upon the cable. The line of the cable itself, taut, angled, running from there to here. Finally, the object hauled: the Father, in his majesty. His grandeur. A tractor would have been très insipide.
Chewing of bhang (nonittal).
Before attaining your majority, Thomas asked, what did you do?
Schemed, mostly. Scheming away night and day, toward the achievement of ends. I woke up angry one m and stayed angry for years -- that was my adolesce. Anger and scheming. How to get out. How to get Lucius. How to get Mark. How to get away from Fred. How to seize power. That sort of thing. And a great deal of care-of-the-body. It was young. It was beautiful. It deserved care.
Is beautiful, Thomas said. Is beautiful, beloved.
Thank you, she said. There were many men, I dont deny it, it was moths to the flame. I tried to love them. Damned difficult. Kept a harpoon gun in my tall window. Tracked them as they moved dowreet, in their ridiculous dignity. I never fired although I could have, it erable. Having them in my sights was enough. My finger origger, always about to go off but never quite. Tension of the most exquisite sort.
I thought it was an objet dart, Thomas said.
Julie smiled.
Often, when I was young, last year, I walked out to the water. It spoke to me of myself. Images came to me, from the water. Pictures. Large green lawns. A great house with pillars, but the lawns so vast that the house be seen only dimly, from where we are standing. I am wearing a long skirt to the ground, in the pany of others. I am witty. They laugh. I am also wise. They pestures of infinite grace. They appreciate. For the finale, I save a life. Leap into the water all clothed and grasping the drowner by the hair, or using the cross-chest carry, get the silly bastard to shore. Have to bash him on the mush to end his wild