Lincoln in the Bardo(18)

You are in a tough spot, sweet Abigail, aren’t you? she said. Often, upon waking, you find yourself short several items, don’t you? Come on, come with us, we’re here to set you free. Look at our arms, our legs, our smiles. Are we liars? Who look so healthy? And who’ve known you so long? Do you remember hiding of a summer day in the hayrick? Your mother calling for you? Digging in then, delighted to be hiding?

It is that times one million where we will take you, said another, who I now recognized as none other than my dear bridesmaid Cynthia Hoynton!

mrs. abigail blass

Eddie, ain’t that f—–ing Queenie? my Betsy says to me.

And sure enough it was! Queenie being one of the sluts from Perdy’s. Who’d give you a good frontal benddown.

Maybe it’s time to give it up, skipper, Queenie said.

In a pig’s a—–, I said.

Eddie, said Betsy.

F—– off, I said. I know what I’m about.

What are you about? Queenie said.

To H—– with you, I said.

I believe your wife may feel differently, she said.

She don’t, I said. F—– off. We travel together.

I wonder, she said.



Betsy’s eyes were cast down.

Good girl, I said. Keep ’em down. Then she can’t f—–ing f—– with you.

We aren’t here to f—– with anyone, Queenie said.

Do the benddown, I said.

Anytime you want us, she said to Betsy. Call out.

Off you go, I said. C—–teaser.

eddie baron

At one moment, the angels stepping en masse back into a ray of moonlight to impress me with their collective radiance, I glanced up and saw, spread out around the white stone home, a remarkable tableau of suffering: dozens of us, frozen in misery: cowed, prone, crawling, wincing before the travails of the particularized onslaught each was undergoing.

the reverend everly thomas Abbie, dear, said Miranda Debb, allow me to show you something.

And put her hands on either side of my face.

And I saw! Where they wanted to take me, the tide would run in, and never out. I would live atop a hill and the stones would roll up. When they got to me, they would split open. Inside each was a pill. When I took the pill, I had—oh, Glory! All I needed.

For once.

For once in my life.

Miranda dropped her hands from my face and I was just back here again.

Did you like that? Miranda said.

Very much, I said.

Come with us then, said her friend, who I saw was good old Susanna Briggs (!), binding her hair up in a cloth, long grass-blade in her mouth.

Two others were playing tag in a gully. Was it Adela and Eva McBain? It was! Some cows were gazing at the tag-game with love. It felt funny that cows could love but that was just the kind of world it was with these sweet girls around!



I can’t believe you are a old widow, said Miranda Debb.

And so little, said Susanna Briggs.

You who was always so pretty, said Miranda Debb.

You had it rough, said Cynthia Hoynton.

The tide ran out but never ran in, said Susanna Briggs.

The stones rolled downhill but never rolled back up, said Cynthia Hoynton.

You never in your life was given enough, said Miranda Debb.

My eyes teared up.

That is so true, I said.

You are a wave that has crashed upon the shore, said Miranda.

We say these things to speed you along, said Susanna.

I said I didn’t know about any of that but sure would fancy another of those pills.

Come with us then, Miranda said.

The McBains in the gully paused to listen. As did the cows. As did, somehow, the barn.

I was so tired and had been tired for ever so long.

I believe I will come with, I said.

mrs. abigail blass

From off to my left came a shout—of terror or victory, I could not be sure—followed by the familiar, yet always bone-chilling, firesound associated with the matterlightblooming phenomenon.

Who had gone?

I could not tell.

And was still too under siege myself to care.

hans vollman

As if stimulated by this victory, our tormentors now redoubled their efforts.

the reverend everly thomas

Rose petals rained down, a joyful provocation: red, pink, yellow, white, purple. Then translucent petals; striped petals; dotted petals; petals inscribed (when you took one from the ground and looked closely at it) with detailed images (down to the broken flower-stems and dropped toys) of one’s childhood yard. Finally golden petals rained down (of real gold!), ticking with each impact against tree or markerstone.

roger bevins iii

Then: singing. Beautiful singing, filled with longing, promise, reassurance, patience, deep fellow-feeling.

hans vollman

It affected one deeply.

the reverend everly thomas You wanted to f—–ing dance.

betsy baron

But you also wanted to f—–ing cry.

eddie baron

While dancing.

betsy baron

Mother came About ten of her But none smelled the least like Mother Say, what is that trick To send a lonesome fellow ten false mothers Come with us, Willie, one Mother said But then All of a sudden They did smell right Very right And cuddled in around me smelling right Mother My goodness Good old You are a wave that has crashed upon the shore, said a second Mother