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Authors: Jeffrey Ford
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were all standing in a pool of blood. The young woman was not lying horizontally on the curb but was propped up against the base of the streetlight.
The bodice of her white dress was soaked bright red; crimson red streaked down her even whiter face. It gathered on her lips and dripped off her chin. I thought at first that she must be dead, but then I saw her move her head slightly from side to side.
She was trying to whisper something, and the thick liquid at her mouth bubbled. As the officer who had initially moved aside and given me my view turned and noticed I was there, I realized that the stream of gore was issuing from her eyes as if she were weeping her own blood.
"Mind your business," said the man, and he raised his club with all intention of striking me.
By that time John had turned and, seeing it was me, caught the other fellow's arm in midswing.
"I'll take care of this, Hark," he said. He came forward quickly, put his arm around my shoulders, and turned me away from the scene. Pushing me along, he herded me back across the street.
"Get out of here, Piambo, or we will have to arrest you," he said. "Go and don't tell anyone what you saw." He shoved me on my way. Before turning back to the incredible scene beneath the street lamp, he warned me again, his voice loud, "Not a word."
I said nothing, thought nothing, but broke into a run. When I reached my home, I was winded and nauseated. I drank whiskey until I regained my normal pulse. Then I stumbled into my studio, sat down, and lit a cigarette with shaking hands. All I could picture was that poor woman's bloody eyes, and through some twisted association with the day's events, I thought of them as the Twins.
God is Fallible
“My father put them in an old silver locket that had been his sister's and latched its chain around my neck. He told me I must never open it but always to remember that they were there, hiding.
Then he swore me to secrecy, telling me the Twins were a secret that must never be revealed.
When I asked him why, he shook his head and got down on one knee to face me. 'Because it proves that God is fallible,' he said, 'and the world neither needs nor wants to know that.'
"I was not sure what the word fallible meant, but what I was certain of was a growing sense of pride at being chosen to bear this important talisman. Because he had told me never to mention them, they became an increas-ing obsession for me. I felt as if they were alive inside that tiny silver chamber, like the germ of life inside a seed. There seemed to be a thrum of energy pulsating through my breast at the point where the pendant touched my flesh. The chain tingled against the skin of my neck. Not too long afterward I began to have strange dreams at night, colors and vibrations in my skull, wild images so abundant it was as if I were dreaming for three.
The nights were not long enough to give vent to them, and they began to seep into my waking hours. I did not tell my father, fearing that he would take back the locket.
"Then one day, when the snows had abated for an entire week, and I was out in the forest of tall Page 25
pines play-ing at being an adventurer to the North Pole, I heard them whisper to me. It was an odd communication because, although I knew they were speaking words, I registered their message as an image in my mind. What I saw was a shooting star moving through the heavens, throwing off sparks like a
July Fourth rocket. This vision lasted only seconds, but in the time I beheld it, it was crystal clear.
"The experience was both frightening and exciting, and when it was over I stood still among the trees for a long while. Of course, as a child I had no way of defining the feeling this experience gave me, but now, thinking back on it, I believe it can best be described as a sense that Nature and, beyond that, the very cosmos was alive. God was watching me, so I ran back to the house to hide.
"By that afternoon, after playing with my dolls and helping my
The bodice of her white dress was soaked bright red; crimson red streaked down her even whiter face. It gathered on her lips and dripped off her chin. I thought at first that she must be dead, but then I saw her move her head slightly from side to side.
She was trying to whisper something, and the thick liquid at her mouth bubbled. As the officer who had initially moved aside and given me my view turned and noticed I was there, I realized that the stream of gore was issuing from her eyes as if she were weeping her own blood.
"Mind your business," said the man, and he raised his club with all intention of striking me.
By that time John had turned and, seeing it was me, caught the other fellow's arm in midswing.
"I'll take care of this, Hark," he said. He came forward quickly, put his arm around my shoulders, and turned me away from the scene. Pushing me along, he herded me back across the street.
"Get out of here, Piambo, or we will have to arrest you," he said. "Go and don't tell anyone what you saw." He shoved me on my way. Before turning back to the incredible scene beneath the street lamp, he warned me again, his voice loud, "Not a word."
I said nothing, thought nothing, but broke into a run. When I reached my home, I was winded and nauseated. I drank whiskey until I regained my normal pulse. Then I stumbled into my studio, sat down, and lit a cigarette with shaking hands. All I could picture was that poor woman's bloody eyes, and through some twisted association with the day's events, I thought of them as the Twins.
God is Fallible
“My father put them in an old silver locket that had been his sister's and latched its chain around my neck. He told me I must never open it but always to remember that they were there, hiding.
Then he swore me to secrecy, telling me the Twins were a secret that must never be revealed.
When I asked him why, he shook his head and got down on one knee to face me. 'Because it proves that God is fallible,' he said, 'and the world neither needs nor wants to know that.'
"I was not sure what the word fallible meant, but what I was certain of was a growing sense of pride at being chosen to bear this important talisman. Because he had told me never to mention them, they became an increas-ing obsession for me. I felt as if they were alive inside that tiny silver chamber, like the germ of life inside a seed. There seemed to be a thrum of energy pulsating through my breast at the point where the pendant touched my flesh. The chain tingled against the skin of my neck. Not too long afterward I began to have strange dreams at night, colors and vibrations in my skull, wild images so abundant it was as if I were dreaming for three.
The nights were not long enough to give vent to them, and they began to seep into my waking hours. I did not tell my father, fearing that he would take back the locket.
"Then one day, when the snows had abated for an entire week, and I was out in the forest of tall Page 25
pines play-ing at being an adventurer to the North Pole, I heard them whisper to me. It was an odd communication because, although I knew they were speaking words, I registered their message as an image in my mind. What I saw was a shooting star moving through the heavens, throwing off sparks like a
July Fourth rocket. This vision lasted only seconds, but in the time I beheld it, it was crystal clear.
"The experience was both frightening and exciting, and when it was over I stood still among the trees for a long while. Of course, as a child I had no way of defining the feeling this experience gave me, but now, thinking back on it, I believe it can best be described as a sense that Nature and, beyond that, the very cosmos was alive. God was watching me, so I ran back to the house to hide.
"By that afternoon, after playing with my dolls and helping my
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