Read Online Stone Gods by Jeanette Winterson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jeanette Winterson
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though it should. Those who have seen it are terrified and will swear that what they see are the twisted, destroyed shapes of planes and cars, more than could be counted, molten but not melted.'
'What else could it be?'
'A mirage. The heat is searing. White-hot clouds cover everything. For a moment, the clouds part. A man sees something he thinks he recognizes from another life. Does he recognize it or does he invent it?'
'What do you think?'
'I do not know.'
'But what do you think?'
'I'll tell you what I think,' said Captain Handsome, coming into the room and throwing himself on the bench, his head in Spike's lap, 'and I'll tell it the way any sailor would — through a story, an old old story this one, handed down from the ships to the space-ships.'
Handsome said:
There was a young man with a hot temper. He was not all bad, but he was reckless, and he drank more than he should, and spent more than he could, and gave a ring to more women than one, and gambled himself into a corner so tight an ant couldn't turn round in it. One night, in despair, and desperate with worry, he got into a fight outside a bar, and killed a man.
Mad with fear and remorse, for he was more hot-tempered than wicked, and stupid when he could have been wise, he locked himself into his filthy bare attic room and took the revolver that had killed his enemy, loaded it, cocked it and prepared to blast himself to pieces.
In the few moments before he pulled the trigger, he said, 'if I had known that all that I have done would bring me to this, I would have led a very different life. If I could live my life again, I would not be here, with the trigger in my hand and the barrel at my head.'
His good angel was sitting by him and, feeling pity for the young man, the angel flew to Heaven and interceded on his behalf.
Then in all his six-winged glory, the angel appeared before the terrified boy, and granted him his wish. 'In full knowledge of what you have become, go back and begin again.'
And suddenly, the young man had another chance.
For a time, all went well. He was sober, upright, true, thrifty. Then one night he passed a bar, and it seemed familiar to him, and he went in and gambled all he had, and he met a woman and told her he had no wife, and he stole from his employer, and spent all he could.
And his debts mounted with his despair, and he decided to gamble everything on one last throw of the dice. This time, as the wheel spun and slowed, his chance would be on the black, not the red. This time, he would win.
The ball fell in the fateful place, as it must. The young man had lost.
He ran outside, but the men followed him, and in a brawl with the bar owner, he shot him dead, and found himself alone and hunted in a filthy attic room.
He took out his revolver. He primed it. He said, 'If I'd known that I could do such a thing again, I would never have risked it. I would have lived a different life. If I had known where my actions would lead me ... ' And his angel came, and sat by him, and took pity on him once again, and interceded for him, and ...
And years passed, and the young man was doing well until he came to a bar that seemed familiar to him . . .
Bullets, revolver, attic, angel, begin again. Bar, bullets, revolver, attic, angel, begin again ... angel, bar, ball, bullets ...
Handsome sat up, leaning on one arm. 'The only intelligent life in the Universe. The only life in the Universe. Solitary, privileged, spinning alone on our red planet, the strangest serendipity of chance and good luck? Look out of the window. These burned-out rocks aren't all accidents of space. Humans or humanoids, or bionoids or mutants or ETS, who can say? but some life-form, capable like ours of developing, and, like all things that are capable of development, capable of destruction too.'
'Are you saying that the white planet ... '
'Was where we used to live.'
'There is no evidence for that,' said Spike.
'What do you want to find? A talking
'What else could it be?'
'A mirage. The heat is searing. White-hot clouds cover everything. For a moment, the clouds part. A man sees something he thinks he recognizes from another life. Does he recognize it or does he invent it?'
'What do you think?'
'I do not know.'
'But what do you think?'
'I'll tell you what I think,' said Captain Handsome, coming into the room and throwing himself on the bench, his head in Spike's lap, 'and I'll tell it the way any sailor would — through a story, an old old story this one, handed down from the ships to the space-ships.'
Handsome said:
There was a young man with a hot temper. He was not all bad, but he was reckless, and he drank more than he should, and spent more than he could, and gave a ring to more women than one, and gambled himself into a corner so tight an ant couldn't turn round in it. One night, in despair, and desperate with worry, he got into a fight outside a bar, and killed a man.
Mad with fear and remorse, for he was more hot-tempered than wicked, and stupid when he could have been wise, he locked himself into his filthy bare attic room and took the revolver that had killed his enemy, loaded it, cocked it and prepared to blast himself to pieces.
In the few moments before he pulled the trigger, he said, 'if I had known that all that I have done would bring me to this, I would have led a very different life. If I could live my life again, I would not be here, with the trigger in my hand and the barrel at my head.'
His good angel was sitting by him and, feeling pity for the young man, the angel flew to Heaven and interceded on his behalf.
Then in all his six-winged glory, the angel appeared before the terrified boy, and granted him his wish. 'In full knowledge of what you have become, go back and begin again.'
And suddenly, the young man had another chance.
For a time, all went well. He was sober, upright, true, thrifty. Then one night he passed a bar, and it seemed familiar to him, and he went in and gambled all he had, and he met a woman and told her he had no wife, and he stole from his employer, and spent all he could.
And his debts mounted with his despair, and he decided to gamble everything on one last throw of the dice. This time, as the wheel spun and slowed, his chance would be on the black, not the red. This time, he would win.
The ball fell in the fateful place, as it must. The young man had lost.
He ran outside, but the men followed him, and in a brawl with the bar owner, he shot him dead, and found himself alone and hunted in a filthy attic room.
He took out his revolver. He primed it. He said, 'If I'd known that I could do such a thing again, I would never have risked it. I would have lived a different life. If I had known where my actions would lead me ... ' And his angel came, and sat by him, and took pity on him once again, and interceded for him, and ...
And years passed, and the young man was doing well until he came to a bar that seemed familiar to him . . .
Bullets, revolver, attic, angel, begin again. Bar, bullets, revolver, attic, angel, begin again ... angel, bar, ball, bullets ...
Handsome sat up, leaning on one arm. 'The only intelligent life in the Universe. The only life in the Universe. Solitary, privileged, spinning alone on our red planet, the strangest serendipity of chance and good luck? Look out of the window. These burned-out rocks aren't all accidents of space. Humans or humanoids, or bionoids or mutants or ETS, who can say? but some life-form, capable like ours of developing, and, like all things that are capable of development, capable of destruction too.'
'Are you saying that the white planet ... '
'Was where we used to live.'
'There is no evidence for that,' said Spike.
'What do you want to find? A talking
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