Read Online Phoenix Without Ashes by Harlan Ellison, Edward Bryant - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Harlan Ellison, Edward Bryant
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Granny Esther, “I think that tonight I’ll fix me a vegetable stew.” She smiled a fragile smile and turned away from the counter. Martin slapped the steak back into the case as though it were a dead fish.
At the door, Granny Esther looked at Devon with a wise, sidelong expression. “Don’t worry, child,” she whispered. “I’ve long known Micah. He’s a hard man, but he’ll show mercy.”
Devon tried to smile at her. But what must I do to earn that mercy? he thought.
“You must pray,” said the old woman. She smiled up at him as he held the door open. Old Esther shuffled out into the street.
Old Martin continued standing with iron control behind the counter as Devon took a cracker from the barrel by the door before leaving.
A sharp pain sprouted suddenly between his shoulder blades. Devon sprawled forward in the dust. “Aye, brother Esau,” said a grating voice. “I could have sworn I just ran into something.”
“It could not be,” said a second voice. “There is nothing at all.”
Devon raised himself with his forearms and looked around. Two young men stood above him, grinning as they ostentatiously looked past.
“Aye,” said the first man. “Agreed. There is nothing whatever.” He rubbed the knuckles of his right hand.
“Young Esau,” said Devon. “Young Goodman.” They were both about his age; both stoutly built and wearing the same type of shirt, overalls, and boots that he did. He remembered them for being two of the attackers from whom Garth had rescued him so many cycles before.
“Do you hear something?” said Young Esau.
“I hear the wind.” Both young men laughed uproariously. Devon started getting to his feet.
“I heard something else,” said Goodman.
“And what might that be?”
Goodman looked at Devon venomously. “I heard something about a friend of ours who is not here.”
Esau cooperated. “Oh? A brother I might know?”
“No doubt. Do you remember Devon? Devon the foundling? Devon the questioning fool?”
Esau nodded. “The troublemaker...”
Devon stepped between them. “What was it you heard?”
“Only a short time ago I was sweeping up the hall in the Place of Worship,” said Goodman, taking a pace to the left so as to look at Esau directly. Goodman periodically performed volunteer deacon labor for the Elders. He was occasionally referred to behind his back by the more outspoken citizens of Cypress Corners as “Young Micah.” The Elder Micah had no natural son.
“Yes?” said Esau. He thrust his face close to Devon’s. “Yes?”
“I heard the words of Elder Micah as he spoke among his fellows.” Goodman paused for effect. “I doubt that brother Devon will dwell much longer among us here.”
“I already guessed at that,” said Devon.
“More, I don’t think Devon will long live to haunt our hills.”
“What do you mean?” Said Devon.
Young Goodman chuckled darkly.
“You boys!”
Esau and Goodman turned guiltily. Considering his bulk, Elder Jubal moved surprisingly quickly across the street toward them. “Why dost thou idle here in the thoroughfare? Have not ye tasks to accomplish?” Jubal’s accusatory stare traversed from one to the other, skipping over Devon as though the latter were hidden by a sty upon the eye of the Elder.
“Aye, Elder,” Essau muttered. Young Goodman nodded assent. Eyes averted, the two young men hurried away.
Elder Jubal tarried briefly. He rhetorically addressed the warm air of the street: “He that is casteth out of the sight of all must not aggravate the good intentions of others.” Jubal cleared his throat self-consciously, turned on his heel, and strode away.
“What?” said Devon toward the retreating figure.
There was no answer.
NINE
The cellar door set against the rear of the Place of Worship was an inclined plane of dark metal, a meter and a half across. Hinged along the top edge, it was secured at the bottom by a combination lock. Only three sides of the sun were
At the door, Granny Esther looked at Devon with a wise, sidelong expression. “Don’t worry, child,” she whispered. “I’ve long known Micah. He’s a hard man, but he’ll show mercy.”
Devon tried to smile at her. But what must I do to earn that mercy? he thought.
“You must pray,” said the old woman. She smiled up at him as he held the door open. Old Esther shuffled out into the street.
Old Martin continued standing with iron control behind the counter as Devon took a cracker from the barrel by the door before leaving.
A sharp pain sprouted suddenly between his shoulder blades. Devon sprawled forward in the dust. “Aye, brother Esau,” said a grating voice. “I could have sworn I just ran into something.”
“It could not be,” said a second voice. “There is nothing at all.”
Devon raised himself with his forearms and looked around. Two young men stood above him, grinning as they ostentatiously looked past.
“Aye,” said the first man. “Agreed. There is nothing whatever.” He rubbed the knuckles of his right hand.
“Young Esau,” said Devon. “Young Goodman.” They were both about his age; both stoutly built and wearing the same type of shirt, overalls, and boots that he did. He remembered them for being two of the attackers from whom Garth had rescued him so many cycles before.
“Do you hear something?” said Young Esau.
“I hear the wind.” Both young men laughed uproariously. Devon started getting to his feet.
“I heard something else,” said Goodman.
“And what might that be?”
Goodman looked at Devon venomously. “I heard something about a friend of ours who is not here.”
Esau cooperated. “Oh? A brother I might know?”
“No doubt. Do you remember Devon? Devon the foundling? Devon the questioning fool?”
Esau nodded. “The troublemaker...”
Devon stepped between them. “What was it you heard?”
“Only a short time ago I was sweeping up the hall in the Place of Worship,” said Goodman, taking a pace to the left so as to look at Esau directly. Goodman periodically performed volunteer deacon labor for the Elders. He was occasionally referred to behind his back by the more outspoken citizens of Cypress Corners as “Young Micah.” The Elder Micah had no natural son.
“Yes?” said Esau. He thrust his face close to Devon’s. “Yes?”
“I heard the words of Elder Micah as he spoke among his fellows.” Goodman paused for effect. “I doubt that brother Devon will dwell much longer among us here.”
“I already guessed at that,” said Devon.
“More, I don’t think Devon will long live to haunt our hills.”
“What do you mean?” Said Devon.
Young Goodman chuckled darkly.
“You boys!”
Esau and Goodman turned guiltily. Considering his bulk, Elder Jubal moved surprisingly quickly across the street toward them. “Why dost thou idle here in the thoroughfare? Have not ye tasks to accomplish?” Jubal’s accusatory stare traversed from one to the other, skipping over Devon as though the latter were hidden by a sty upon the eye of the Elder.
“Aye, Elder,” Essau muttered. Young Goodman nodded assent. Eyes averted, the two young men hurried away.
Elder Jubal tarried briefly. He rhetorically addressed the warm air of the street: “He that is casteth out of the sight of all must not aggravate the good intentions of others.” Jubal cleared his throat self-consciously, turned on his heel, and strode away.
“What?” said Devon toward the retreating figure.
There was no answer.
NINE
The cellar door set against the rear of the Place of Worship was an inclined plane of dark metal, a meter and a half across. Hinged along the top edge, it was secured at the bottom by a combination lock. Only three sides of the sun were
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