"His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead."
- James Joyce, The Dead
Monday, May 17, 2010
The final...
In the aftermath of the smoke and fire, the character's name that is/was drawn from the sack o' destiny to meet his/her final destiny is...the irony is deep and unrelenting.... Edith E. Evans...
"yes," he said, meeting her eyes, "but theres one thing I have to do first." He strode over to the seat and picked up a book. "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare: The First Folio" read the cover. There was a small sticker that read "Property of Odum public library" ___ . . . ___
They approached what was once the public library. "Are you sure that they really care if you return it now?" Miranda said. "I don't care if they care," he said, "I need to return it." "Plus," he added as an afterthought, "the librarian definitely cares. I wouldn't even be surprised if she was here, I don't think she ever leaves." He opened the door and walked into the burnt lobby of the library. It was a miracle it was still standing. He saw a body on the floor, half covered by a burnt bookshelf. He didn't need to go any closer to know who it was, but he did so anyways. She was here, he was right, and now she would never leave. He set the book gingerly against her. "There," he said, "I've returned it, now how much is my late fee?"
*plop* That plop wasn't the plop of me taking a s@#$. It was the plop of me dropping my last Oreo Cakester on the ground. You're probably thinking "There's no way in hell that Jeb would drop his last Oreo Cakester..." and I probably wouldn't have. If not for the fact that I think I saw a scuffle go down in the library... and only one person came out. I think.... that someone just died....
Holy S@#$!!! I can't take this anymore... I thought I could deal with this insane city, thought I could make some friends, thought I could have a good life here. I was mistaken.. Why did I move here in the first place... I need to contact Jonna, maybe I can live with her for a bit until I find better arrangements. Gotta start packing, gotta start packing.
~The next day~ Well, it's been confirmed. Someone was killed in the library yesterday. Edith Evans. I never knew her. But then again, I never knew anyone here.
I was able to reach Jonna, and she was more than happy to help me out. She's such a great friend. She said she'll pick me up at around 10:35 AM. It's 10:20 AM. I'll just wait here and....There's the charred library...I suppose... AH! Jonna's here early!
Jonna: JEB OEDKIRK!!! It's so good to see you again!!!! Jeb: It's great to see you too Jonna! But can you hold on a second? There's something I gotta do...
~2 hours later~ A homeless man is walking out of the Drink and Drive. He's stumbling about, while singing Pure Imagination when he spots something. "Hmm? What in the hell happened to the library? There's soot everywhere..." He takes a few more steps, notices he steps on something and looks down. "A Sean Connery t-shirt? Why would anyone leave this lying around? There's a note too." "To the person I never knew, I wish I did."
EARLY MORNING WAKE UP CALL So...I am here to stay. In Shanty town, working at this laundromat where no one really comes to wash clothes. RIDICULOUS. I soon realize that I haven't slept yet and its only 7 in the morning. I am usually knocked out by now, but I guess after all that chaos of the burning books and prostitutes I couldn't sleep. My dad's gayness crosses my mind and I realize that I am not even mad... I mean what can I do now. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. He was attracted to his own kind and in love with a tranny. SMH. I need something to eat. Maybe a little snack and some tv would put me to bed. Let's see....... ooooo I want my infamous sandwich again. I turn on the tv and see my show Criminal Minds is on. I do believe one day someone from Shanty Town would be the story. Maybe Dave the Butcher...He's a creeper. Or maybe Jeb- He is bound to snap one day. Or maybe even Me. Maybe one day I may try to teach these people a lesson about washing clothes. Or maybe my father being gay would not sit too well with me one day and I would go around killing all of his partners...NAH that's not me, but then again you never know. Just as my ways to kill people start to run through my mind, the fire alarm sounds. I hate that damn bell. It's so loud and obnoxious. Someone probably pulled it to piss people off. Like a junky or something. So I wait a little to see if the sound would stop, but it doesn't. It may be something serious. Maybe that religious group set something else ablaze. Ill go check it out. I walk outside to see that everyone is out and headed towards the library. So I follow the crowd. It is that group. Burning the books wasn't satisfying enough, they had to set the whole library on fire. As we near the library, I notice the religious group is now arriving also. So what in the world could have happened. I try asking those around but no one knows. Just then I see the firefighters and police dragging a body out. I get closer to see who it is... OMG. Edith. Someone has attacked Edith and then set the whole building on fire. Who could have done this. Criminal Minds pop back in my mind. I knew someone would snap. Now just to find out who to make sure I could never be a part of their list. Then again I don't associate with much people. Oh well just to be safe, I think I might just leave. Don't want to die yet at least not before experiencing certain things and choosing my own death. I snap back into reality and look around. No one seems to care that Edith is dead. Instead they are just talking about ways in which they would have killed her or someone else. This town is too weird. I really need to GET OUT.
The charred aftermath of the burnings hung like dead air, still and impossible to ignore on each individual in the town. All was in disarray, which would have usually created a sensory overload for his small mind. This time, however, it was as though the chaos was more predictable than the fluff of life before this apocalyptic nightmare.
Realist or pessimist? Hard to tell sometimes.
The contained workings of this small town drew Louie in, and without doubt, he knew fate had turned these sour events just for him. It was punishment for his feeble attempts to live normally. Kicking a flyer off his shoe, he checked his watch for no reason at all. There was no reason for anything anymore, really.
He walked toward the library, sweating, absorbing the scents of the smoky remains and the liquor-sharp tang, that stunk like a thousand bars from hell. Braxton Chambers, perhaps the only one who could move on with life after such an event, sat weeping on the steps to the library.
Louie walked to the boy, sat next to him, and asked, "What did the alien say to the librarian?"
People don't seem to care too much that that librarian is dead. I didn't even know her name, but for some reason, I can feel her absence. There's that feeling that someone I might have seen on the street and nodded at is gone forever and I never even knew her. I saw her photo in the paper today. She was surrounded by cats. Fat cats that obviously loved her just as much as she loved them. And she looked happy.
I joined the crowd watching them bring her body out of the burnt library, the library that I never visited. I told Alex not to look and I thought to myself don't look don't look, but I looked. We both looked. I held Alex's hand because she let me and we watched the last bits of smoke rise from the library and into the sky.
Edna had stayed in the building since the fire for something like 36 hours; she was too busy. She strolled the halls, with the murmurs of worried voices, crying women and dogs, and the yelps of the same ol' crack addicts. She tried to piece it together, the super was counting on her.
No, not counting on her, forcing her - blackmailing her. He had told her that someone had died, and it hadn't been an accident.
"Now figure this shit out before tenets stop moving in."
Sure, people had died in this neighborhood. Plenty of blood had been spilt. But it had never been due to an outside conspirator, or at least that's what she had pieced together so far.
So now Edna made her way through the halls, weaving between the leaking pipes, peeling wallpaper, and other damages she was meant to fix. She had other things to fix. People were talking again, but no one was really saying anything.
What she has gathered so far: - The paper said it was the librarian. - No one really cared.
This town was a shit hole, and Edna was just a pawn. She had no goals, no values, no morality. She was a human recorder. Clearly, no one in this town actually cared for the people. She had heard the librarian had not died quietly, but Edna knew she would die in silence, and soon, her secrets overwhelming any original thought.
Macy ran to the library. She had been rudely awaken about 5 minuted ago by blaring sirens. When she had looked out the window of her apartment, she had seen that cars with the sirens were headed straight for the library. Not bothering to check the state of her burnt hair in a mirror or change out of her bright yellow pajamas, Macy barrelled down the stairs to the ground floor of her building and continued to barrel down the street. The library was as much a home to Macy as her own apartment was. She had spent so many days there reading her favorite books and reminiscing about her long-gone friends, who she now realized may never come back for her. Macy fretted over the possibility of there being more problems with the books. The fire the night before had destroyed many of them, but there had still been enough to keep the library open and running. But maybe the books weren't the problem; maybe there was something wrong with Edith, who always showed up to work much earlier than Macy. Gasping from exertion, Macy pushed through the front doors to find a room crowded with policemen and medics. There was an overturned bookshelf with its contents strewn over the floor. Worried that they could be damaged, Macy carefully inspected one, but realized the books were about the old American West and ceased to care about their condition. Where was Edith? All these people disturbing the library, especially after what happened the night before, should have been incurring her wrath, but she was nowhere to be seen. A policeman walked up to Macy. "Did you know the victim?" He asked. "Victim of what?" Macy said, confused. "The murder that happened here." Oh, that would explain Edith's disappearance. She was obviously the murder victim. "She was my boss," replied Macy as she walked away. She looked around for Edith's body, but she only saw a gurney with a body bag. Macy had never really dealt with death first hand before, and therefore didn't quite know how to react. Her boss was gone; that much was clear. But should she feel sad about it? Edith wasn't family; they weren't even really friends. So Macy decided that sadness was not an appropriate response, but also couldn't think of any other emotions to feel that would be any less inappropriate; she easily ruled out happiness, relief, and fear; those emotions were associated with other things. After some thought, Macy also ruled out anger because she did not know how the murder happened or who did the murdering. She walked over to a medic. "What should I feel?" She asked. "Just feel whatever you feel," the man said, obviously weirded out. Frustrated, Macy gave up on her quest for appropriate feelings and, without anything better to do, went to her favorite corner of the library, took out her favorite book, and read.
Alex read the newspaper today. Well, she read the obituaries. The librarian died. No. The librarian was killed. Set to flames in her own library. Alex didn't really know her, but she drank a cup of tea in her memory. The obituary said Edith E. Evans loved tea. So Alex had a cup of Earl Grey as Sam slept soundly on her couch.
Eventually he woke up and she showed him the paper. He was silent, but soon decided to walk down to the library. Alex joined him. They walked in silence through the streets that were so chaotic just the day before. The air smelt like burnt paper and Alex suddenly craved the smell of the ocean again. They arrived at the library.
There was a large crowd of people surrounding the pile of burnt knowledge. Every inhabitant of this demented town watched as the body of Edith E. Evans was pulled out of the rubble and put into the back of an ambulance. Sam didn't want Alex to watch. He didn't want to himself. The sight, however, was impossible to look away from.
Alex looked at Sam's saddened face and then at the crowd and what was left from the library. And then she made her decision. She would go back to her past life. She would tell Sam tomorrow and he could join her if he desired. But she had to go back. She had to be back on the sea. She had to go home.
"He directed Himself to the heaven… and He knows all things.” [Qur'an 2:29]
I saw something reborn today. Turning away from the smoldering remains of religion and knowledge, I regarded the monolith. Neglecting the faithful and the ignorant, the giant protector had allowed the unthinkable to occur. Thirteen floors high, the only defense from eternal damnation had abandoned its city, and its reasons were clear to no one but me:
The tower itself had been abandoned.
Not by the human filth who inhabited it, defiling the walls with grime and its beds with copulation. No, they remained, and would remain until eviction by their own demise. This crumbling fortress now lacked its Lord. Exiled or executed, He was gone and there would be no second coming.
I approached the edifice.
Throwing open the flimsy doors, I stepped into the empty lobby, pushing through the gathering crowd floating towards the exit. When the doors to my chariot slid open, I entered and pressed the button for the very top. With the ringing of a bell, I began my ascent.
In that moment I realized who I was not anymore.
I was not the dying man afraid of the sky. Not the guilty offender who gets out early for good behavior. I was not an insignificant looking for someone to come to my rescue. I did not need to be rescued. I was not confined to the sidewalks.
In that moment I realized who I am now.
I am the King in the Tower, the beekeeper. I grant unto the sun. I drive the bus. I am the fallible judge whose every word is law. I burned the seat of the one I followed, and now I am more than Him. I am the watcher, the instigator who remains far off. I am the almighty blinding light, the Almighty.
I am God.
From the penthouse apartment, I gaze down upon my kingdom: frozen, just as I had left it. To thaw it, I have begun a third fire. In the early morning, my followers on the ground are gathering around the smoldering building, waiting. I can see the paramedics pulling a lifeless woman from the rubble.
As the ambulance pulls away silently, cars resume their travel. The world spins again.
Altan whimpered. He'd woken up again - it was 4 am. He never found Ms. Evans... Edith... yesterday. His first idea had been to go to the library of course. That proved impossible - there were people, so many people, blocking the way, and the crowd grew thicker and thicker the closer to the library he got. He saw flames over their heads and sobbed. What was happening? Where was she? Where did the fire come from? So was the library on fire too? Ah, the mosque was on fire! Where should he go? What should he do now?
Altan tried to push through the mass of people, but he was too old and weak to do so. No one even noticed him and his pleading to pass through. Altan felt powerless and empty, especially without his cart. It was back in his apartment because it would have been foolish to bring it out with him, like he was going to try to sell coffee in the midst of this crisis. But with it he felt important and purposeful, and it would have made a decent battering ram. For hours Altan yelled, pushed, pinched, and tried to squeeze through the crowd with little success. He got just close enough to see that the library itself wasn't on fire, but was that a bonfire of books in the street? Where was Edith? How could this happen? Who'd done this?
Back in his bed, Altan slowly fell back asleep, determined that he would see Edith today. As soon as the sun rose, he'd call upon her in her apartment. He'd have to hurry though, she left early for work... if she even made it back to her apartment.
At 9 am, Altan woke with a start and then jumped out of bed. He was late! The sun had just peeked through the overhanging clouds for a minute, and the brightness had woken the old man. He was so tired from the day before, but he had felt sure his strong will and desire to see Edith face to face would have woken him with such energy and adrenaline that he could have done anything. But it was already 9 am and she'd frown upon his tardiness.
Altan rushed through his apartment getting ready then hobbled down the stairs. Dejá vu he thought. Out on the street, he hurried past Jedediah, still chanting the hymn that had filled the town the day before. Police cars and an ambulance rushed by Altan and he wished he could move that fast. He had to see Edith, talk to her, relieve his guilt.
Upon arriving to the library, Altan noticed the restless, noisy crowd - had they stayed the night? What did they want with Edith and her books? A library was a place of peace and knowledge, not of ignorance and harassment. Altan joined them, again attempting to push through.
"-dead!"
"What?"
"They said she's dead!"
"Who's dead?"
"Some old lady."
"The librarian."
"The librarian?"
"The librarian."
"Dead?"
"Yes!"
"Shame."
Dead? Dead? Altan seemed to sag, weighted down with bitterness and grief, more so than normal for a 70-year-old man. He fell away and drifted back into the cruel landscape of the city. The mosque was gone - was Allah gone? Edith was gone - was his dignity gone? Was his heart? His kahve cart was still around - he could continue to sell his coffee, make money, spend money, provide for himself...
Battered and maimed, as one is when one experiences a great loss, Altan shuffled back to the tower with this knowledge. The simple idea of materialism was the only thing that tied him to humanity now.
"yes," he said, meeting her eyes, "but theres one thing I have to do first."
ReplyDeleteHe strode over to the seat and picked up a book.
"The Complete Works of William Shakespeare: The First Folio" read the cover. There was a small sticker that read "Property of Odum public library"
___ . . . ___
They approached what was once the public library.
"Are you sure that they really care if you return it now?" Miranda said.
"I don't care if they care," he said, "I need to return it."
"Plus," he added as an afterthought, "the librarian definitely cares. I wouldn't even be surprised if she was here, I don't think she ever leaves."
He opened the door and walked into the burnt lobby of the library. It was a miracle it was still standing.
He saw a body on the floor, half covered by a burnt bookshelf.
He didn't need to go any closer to know who it was, but he did so anyways.
She was here, he was right, and now she would never leave.
He set the book gingerly against her.
"There," he said, "I've returned it, now how much is my late fee?"
*plop*
ReplyDeleteThat plop wasn't the plop of me taking a s@#$. It was the plop of me dropping my last Oreo Cakester on the ground. You're probably thinking "There's no way in hell that Jeb would drop his last Oreo Cakester..." and I probably wouldn't have. If not for the fact that I think I saw a scuffle go down in the library... and only one person came out. I think.... that someone just died....
Holy S@#$!!! I can't take this anymore... I thought I could deal with this insane city, thought I could make some friends, thought I could have a good life here. I was mistaken.. Why did I move here in the first place... I need to contact Jonna, maybe I can live with her for a bit until I find better arrangements. Gotta start packing, gotta start packing.
~The next day~
Well, it's been confirmed. Someone was killed in the library yesterday. Edith Evans. I never knew her. But then again, I never knew anyone here.
I was able to reach Jonna, and she was more than happy to help me out. She's such a great friend. She said she'll pick me up at around 10:35 AM. It's 10:20 AM. I'll just wait here and....There's the charred library...I suppose... AH! Jonna's here early!
Jonna: JEB OEDKIRK!!! It's so good to see you again!!!!
Jeb: It's great to see you too Jonna! But can you hold on a second? There's something I gotta do...
~2 hours later~
A homeless man is walking out of the Drink and Drive. He's stumbling about, while singing Pure Imagination when he spots something. "Hmm? What in the hell happened to the library? There's soot everywhere..." He takes a few more steps, notices he steps on something and looks down. "A Sean Connery t-shirt? Why would anyone leave this lying around? There's a note too."
"To the person I never knew, I wish I did."
EARLY MORNING WAKE UP CALL
ReplyDeleteSo...I am here to stay. In Shanty town, working at this laundromat where no one really comes to wash clothes. RIDICULOUS. I soon realize that I haven't slept yet and its only 7 in the morning. I am usually knocked out by now, but I guess after all that chaos of the burning books and prostitutes I couldn't sleep.
My dad's gayness crosses my mind and I realize that I am not even mad... I mean what can I do now. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. He was attracted to his own kind and in love with a tranny. SMH.
I need something to eat. Maybe a little snack and some tv would put me to bed. Let's see....... ooooo I want my infamous sandwich again. I turn on the tv and see my show Criminal Minds is on. I do believe one day someone from Shanty Town would be the story. Maybe Dave the Butcher...He's a creeper. Or maybe Jeb- He is bound to snap one day. Or maybe even Me. Maybe one day I may try to teach these people a lesson about washing clothes. Or maybe my father being gay would not sit too well with me one day and I would go around killing all of his partners...NAH that's not me, but then again you never know.
Just as my ways to kill people start to run through my mind, the fire alarm sounds. I hate that damn bell. It's so loud and obnoxious. Someone probably pulled it to piss people off. Like a junky or something. So I wait a little to see if the sound would stop, but it doesn't. It may be something serious. Maybe that religious group set something else ablaze. Ill go check it out.
I walk outside to see that everyone is out and headed towards the library. So I follow the crowd. It is that group. Burning the books wasn't satisfying enough, they had to set the whole library on fire. As we near the library, I notice the religious group is now arriving also. So what in the world could have happened. I try asking those around but no one knows. Just then I see the firefighters and police dragging a body out. I get closer to see who it is...
OMG. Edith. Someone has attacked Edith and then set the whole building on fire. Who could have done this. Criminal Minds pop back in my mind. I knew someone would snap. Now just to find out who to make sure I could never be a part of their list. Then again I don't associate with much people. Oh well just to be safe, I think I might just leave. Don't want to die yet at least not before experiencing certain things and choosing my own death.
I snap back into reality and look around. No one seems to care that Edith is dead. Instead they are just talking about ways in which they would have killed her or someone else. This town is too weird. I really need to GET OUT.
The charred aftermath of the burnings hung like dead air, still and impossible to ignore on each individual in the town. All was in disarray, which would have usually created a sensory overload for his small mind. This time, however, it was as though the chaos was more predictable than the fluff of life before this apocalyptic nightmare.
ReplyDeleteRealist or pessimist? Hard to tell sometimes.
The contained workings of this small town drew Louie in, and without doubt, he knew fate had turned these sour events just for him. It was punishment for his feeble attempts to live normally. Kicking a flyer off his shoe, he checked his watch for no reason at all. There was no reason for anything anymore, really.
He walked toward the library, sweating, absorbing the scents of the smoky remains and the liquor-sharp tang, that stunk like a thousand bars from hell. Braxton Chambers, perhaps the only one who could move on with life after such an event, sat weeping on the steps to the library.
Louie walked to the boy, sat next to him, and asked, "What did the alien say to the librarian?"
"Take me to your reader."
He didn't laugh.
People don't seem to care too much that that librarian is dead. I didn't even know her name, but for some reason, I can feel her absence. There's that feeling that someone I might have seen on the street and nodded at is gone forever and I never even knew her. I saw her photo in the paper today. She was surrounded by cats. Fat cats that obviously loved her just as much as she loved them. And she looked happy.
ReplyDeleteI joined the crowd watching them bring her body out of the burnt library, the library that I never visited. I told Alex not to look and I thought to myself don't look don't look, but I looked. We both looked. I held Alex's hand because she let me and we watched the last bits of smoke rise from the library and into the sky.
The drought of gossip ended today.
ReplyDeleteEdna had stayed in the building since the fire for something like 36 hours; she was too busy. She strolled the halls, with the murmurs of worried voices, crying women and dogs, and the yelps of the same ol' crack addicts. She tried to piece it together, the super was counting on her.
No, not counting on her, forcing her - blackmailing her. He had told her that someone had died, and it hadn't been an accident.
"Now figure this shit out before tenets stop moving in."
Sure, people had died in this neighborhood. Plenty of blood had been spilt. But it had never been due to an outside conspirator, or at least that's what she had pieced together so far.
So now Edna made her way through the halls, weaving between the leaking pipes, peeling wallpaper, and other damages she was meant to fix. She had other things to fix. People were talking again, but no one was really saying anything.
What she has gathered so far:
- The paper said it was the librarian.
- No one really cared.
This town was a shit hole, and Edna was just a pawn. She had no goals, no values, no morality. She was a human recorder. Clearly, no one in this town actually cared for the people. She had heard the librarian had not died quietly, but Edna knew she would die in silence, and soon, her secrets overwhelming any original thought.
Macy ran to the library. She had been rudely awaken about 5 minuted ago by blaring sirens. When she had looked out the window of her apartment, she had seen that cars with the sirens were headed straight for the library. Not bothering to check the state of her burnt hair in a mirror or change out of her bright yellow pajamas, Macy barrelled down the stairs to the ground floor of her building and continued to barrel down the street. The library was as much a home to Macy as her own apartment was. She had spent so many days there reading her favorite books and reminiscing about her long-gone friends, who she now realized may never come back for her. Macy fretted over the possibility of there being more problems with the books. The fire the night before had destroyed many of them, but there had still been enough to keep the library open and running. But maybe the books weren't the problem; maybe there was something wrong with Edith, who always showed up to work much earlier than Macy.
ReplyDeleteGasping from exertion, Macy pushed through the front doors to find a room crowded with policemen and medics. There was an overturned bookshelf with its contents strewn over the floor. Worried that they could be damaged, Macy carefully inspected one, but realized the books were about the old American West and ceased to care about their condition. Where was Edith? All these people disturbing the library, especially after what happened the night before, should have been incurring her wrath, but she was nowhere to be seen.
A policeman walked up to Macy. "Did you know the victim?" He asked.
"Victim of what?" Macy said, confused.
"The murder that happened here."
Oh, that would explain Edith's disappearance. She was obviously the murder victim.
"She was my boss," replied Macy as she walked away.
She looked around for Edith's body, but she only saw a gurney with a body bag. Macy had never really dealt with death first hand before, and therefore didn't quite know how to react. Her boss was gone; that much was clear. But should she feel sad about it? Edith wasn't family; they weren't even really friends. So Macy decided that sadness was not an appropriate response, but also couldn't think of any other emotions to feel that would be any less inappropriate; she easily ruled out happiness, relief, and fear; those emotions were associated with other things. After some thought, Macy also ruled out anger because she did not know how the murder happened or who did the murdering. She walked over to a medic. "What should I feel?" She asked.
"Just feel whatever you feel," the man said, obviously weirded out. Frustrated, Macy gave up on her quest for appropriate feelings and, without anything better to do, went to her favorite corner of the library, took out her favorite book, and read.
Alex read the newspaper today. Well, she read the obituaries. The librarian died. No. The librarian was killed. Set to flames in her own library. Alex didn't really know her, but she drank a cup of tea in her memory. The obituary said Edith E. Evans loved tea. So Alex had a cup of Earl Grey as Sam slept soundly on her couch.
ReplyDeleteEventually he woke up and she showed him the paper. He was silent, but soon decided to walk down to the library. Alex joined him. They walked in silence through the streets that were so chaotic just the day before. The air smelt like burnt paper and Alex suddenly craved the smell of the ocean again. They arrived at the library.
There was a large crowd of people surrounding the pile of burnt knowledge. Every inhabitant of this demented town watched as the body of Edith E. Evans was pulled out of the rubble and put into the back of an ambulance. Sam didn't want Alex to watch. He didn't want to himself. The sight, however, was impossible to look away from.
Alex looked at Sam's saddened face and then at the crowd and what was left from the library. And then she made her decision. She would go back to her past life. She would tell Sam tomorrow and he could join her if he desired. But she had to go back. She had to be back on the sea. She had to go home.
"He directed Himself to the heaven… and He knows all things.” [Qur'an 2:29]
ReplyDeleteI saw something reborn today. Turning away from the smoldering remains of religion and knowledge, I regarded the monolith. Neglecting the faithful and the ignorant, the giant protector had allowed the unthinkable to occur. Thirteen floors high, the only defense from eternal damnation had abandoned its city, and its reasons were clear to no one but me:
The tower itself had been abandoned.
Not by the human filth who inhabited it, defiling the walls with grime and its beds with copulation. No, they remained, and would remain until eviction by their own demise. This crumbling fortress now lacked its Lord. Exiled or executed, He was gone and there would be no second coming.
I approached the edifice.
Throwing open the flimsy doors, I stepped into the empty lobby, pushing through the gathering crowd floating towards the exit. When the doors to my chariot slid open, I entered and pressed the button for the very top. With the ringing of a bell, I began my ascent.
In that moment I realized who I was not anymore.
I was not the dying man afraid of the sky. Not the guilty offender who gets out early for good behavior. I was not an insignificant looking for someone to come to my rescue. I did not need to be rescued. I was not confined to the sidewalks.
In that moment I realized who I am now.
I am the King in the Tower, the beekeeper. I grant unto the sun. I drive the bus. I am the fallible judge whose every word is law. I burned the seat of the one I followed, and now I am more than Him. I am the watcher, the instigator who remains far off. I am the almighty blinding light, the Almighty.
I am God.
From the penthouse apartment, I gaze down upon my kingdom: frozen, just as I had left it. To thaw it, I have begun a third fire. In the early morning, my followers on the ground are gathering around the smoldering building, waiting. I can see the paramedics pulling a lifeless woman from the rubble.
As the ambulance pulls away silently, cars resume their travel. The world spins again.
Altan whimpered. He'd woken up again - it was 4 am. He never found Ms. Evans... Edith... yesterday. His first idea had been to go to the library of course. That proved impossible - there were people, so many people, blocking the way, and the crowd grew thicker and thicker the closer to the library he got. He saw flames over their heads and sobbed. What was happening? Where was she? Where did the fire come from? So was the library on fire too? Ah, the mosque was on fire! Where should he go? What should he do now?
ReplyDeleteAltan tried to push through the mass of people, but he was too old and weak to do so. No one even noticed him and his pleading to pass through. Altan felt powerless and empty, especially without his cart. It was back in his apartment because it would have been foolish to bring it out with him, like he was going to try to sell coffee in the midst of this crisis. But with it he felt important and purposeful, and it would have made a decent battering ram. For hours Altan yelled, pushed, pinched, and tried to squeeze through the crowd with little success. He got just close enough to see that the library itself wasn't on fire, but was that a bonfire of books in the street? Where was Edith? How could this happen? Who'd done this?
Back in his bed, Altan slowly fell back asleep, determined that he would see Edith today. As soon as the sun rose, he'd call upon her in her apartment. He'd have to hurry though, she left early for work... if she even made it back to her apartment.
At 9 am, Altan woke with a start and then jumped out of bed. He was late! The sun had just peeked through the overhanging clouds for a minute, and the brightness had woken the old man. He was so tired from the day before, but he had felt sure his strong will and desire to see Edith face to face would have woken him with such energy and adrenaline that he could have done anything. But it was already 9 am and she'd frown upon his tardiness.
Altan rushed through his apartment getting ready then hobbled down the stairs. Dejá vu he thought. Out on the street, he hurried past Jedediah, still chanting the hymn that had filled the town the day before. Police cars and an ambulance rushed by Altan and he wished he could move that fast. He had to see Edith, talk to her, relieve his guilt.
Upon arriving to the library, Altan noticed the restless, noisy crowd - had they stayed the night? What did they want with Edith and her books? A library was a place of peace and knowledge, not of ignorance and harassment. Altan joined them, again attempting to push through.
"-dead!"
"What?"
"They said she's dead!"
"Who's dead?"
"Some old lady."
"The librarian."
"The librarian?"
"The librarian."
"Dead?"
"Yes!"
"Shame."
Dead? Dead? Altan seemed to sag, weighted down with bitterness and grief, more so than normal for a 70-year-old man. He fell away and drifted back into the cruel landscape of the city. The mosque was gone - was Allah gone? Edith was gone - was his dignity gone? Was his heart? His kahve cart was still around - he could continue to sell his coffee, make money, spend money, provide for himself...
Battered and maimed, as one is when one experiences a great loss, Altan shuffled back to the tower with this knowledge. The simple idea of materialism was the only thing that tied him to humanity now.