Lincoln in the Bardo(53)
hans vollman
As he fell, to protect the boy, he instinctively rolled on to his back, so as to absorb the brunt of the impact.
roger bevins iii
And they had him.
hans vollman
Had them.
They sought the boy but, seeking the boy, pinioned the Reverend as well.
roger bevins iii
In their frenzy it appeared they were no longer capable of, or interested in, distinguishing between reverend and lad.
hans vollman
By the time we reached the Reverend and the boy, the two were bundled tightly together within a rapidly solidifying new carapace.
roger bevins iii
The Reverend’s terrible cries sounding from within.
hans vollman
They have me! he shouted. They have even me! I must—I must go! Good God! Mustn’t I? Or be trapped like this, forever— Go, yes, by all means, save yourself, dear friend! I shouted. Go!
But I don’t want to! he shouted. I am afraid!
The choked, garbled quality of his voice told us that the carapace had reached his mouth, and then it seemed it had penetrated even into his brain, and was making him delirious.
That palace, he shouted at the very end. That dreadful diamond palace!
roger bevins iii
Then, from inside the carapace, came the familiar, yet always bone-chilling, firesound associated with the matterlightblooming phenomenon.
hans vollman
And the Reverend was gone.
roger bevins iii
The Reverend’s departure creating a temporary vacuity within the carapace— hans vollman
Mr. Vollman gave the thing a tremendous kick, and caved it in.
roger bevins iii
As we fell enraged upon it, digging and clawing, I could feel the demonic beings within looking askance at us, repulsed by our ferocity, our revived human proclivity for hatred-inspired action. Mr. Bevins drove one arm in up to the elbow. From the other side, I was able to puncture the carapace with a long bough, and situating myself beneath that bough drove up with my knees, and the carapace split open, and Mr. Bevins was able to get his two arms fully inside. Letting out a shout of exertion, he began to pull, and soon, like a foal newly born (as wet, as untidy), the lad tumbled out, and for a second we were able to clearly observe, inside the ruptured carapace, the imprint of the Reverend’s face, which had not, I am happy to say, in those final instants, reverted back to the face we had so long associated with him (badly frightened, eyebrows high, the mouth a perfect O of terror), but, rather, his countenance now conveyed a sense of tentative hopefulness—as if he were going into that unknown place content that he had, at any rate, while in this place, done all that he could.
hans vollman
Mr. Vollman snatched up the boy and dashed away.
The demonic beings, flowing out of the remains of the carapace into the earth, gave chase.
Soon, from below, Mr. Vollman’s ankles were cuffed, and he tumbled to his knees, and the demonic beings, forming again into tendrils, shot rapidly up his legs and torso and began pioneering out on to his arms.
I raced over, plucked the boy away, dashed off.
And within seconds was myself overrun.
roger bevins iii
I leapt to my feet, raced over, plucked the lad away from Mr. Bevins, dashed off toward the chapel, and, just before I was again overrun, managed to fall forward, through the northernmost side-wall.
I know this place, the lad mumbled.
I expect you do, I said. We all know it.
For many of us, the chapel had served as our portal; our place of disembarkation; the last place we had ever been taken seriously.
hans vollman
The earth around the chapel began to roil.
Even here? I said. Outside this most holy place?
Holy, unholy, all the same to us, said the Brit.
Have a job to do, said the Vermonter.
Are compelled, said the woman.
Go in, send him out, said the Brit.
You merely delay, said the Vermonter.
We are gathering our strength, said the Brit.
Shall be in shortly, said the woman.
With a vengeance, said the Vermonter.
Send him out, snapped the lisper.
roger bevins iii
Mr. Bevins had just stepped in through the wall when, from the darkness at the front of the chapel, a pronounced manly throat-clearing told us we were not alone.
Mr. Lincoln sat in the front row of chairs, where he must have sat during the previous day’s service.
hans vollman
LXXXIII.
Tom as we neared front gate Pres catching sight of chapel said he thought he might go over and sit in that quiet place a bit if I did not mind and confided in me that he felt his boy was still here with him and could not shake that feeling but perhaps a few minutes sitting silent in that place of prayer might do the trick.
Declined my offer of lantern saying he would not need it for he saw pretty good in the dark and always had and went off through that very space only yesterday filled with the many hundreds standing on the lawn in the drizzle in their black coats and upraised umbrellas and the sounds of the sad organ from within and I returned to guardhouse which is where I am now writing this while outside his poor little horse’s eager hoofs sound against the cobblestone as if his master’s proximity causing him to do a stationary horse dance preparatory to long ride home.
Pres in chapel yet.
Manders, op. cit.