Читать книгу The Last Days of the Lacuna Cabal - Sean Dixon - Страница 14
Оглавление19 March, 5.51 p.m.
‘So I guess you’re not in the track and field club any more, Runner.’
Missy had lost no time. Late in the afternoon of the next day, while all was still quiet in Baghdad20, on the fifth floor of the Jacob Lighter Building, where it was minus five degrees Celsius and the only heat came from the blast of the blue flame-thrower, Missy was taking full advantage of Runner’s patched-up, less dramatic state to reassert her authority over the group. Like everyone else, she had been relieved (greatly relieved) that Runner was okay, but, given that she was okay, there was no need to dwell on it any longer. Fresh tragedy had been averted. We could move on. For her part, Runner was attempting to augment the dramatic effects of the leg cast by eschewing crutches and limping around like a marionette.21 She felt some anxiety about not having come up with a special way to tell the story, but remained confident, with her usual flung faith in serendipity, that an idea would present itself.
20 Even quieter, since everyone had purchased earplugs. According to the Baghdad Blogger (faithfully, if secretly, followed by our own Aline Irwin).
Runner said, ‘What makes everyone think they can be mean to a cripple just because that cripple is me?’ and, ‘Track and field doesn’t interest me any more.’
For the call of the role, taken by Romy, present were Romy, Priya, Runner (and Neil), Missy, Jennifer (ahem), Danielle (ahem), Aline and Emmy. All of us suitably bundled and sitting close to the heater, crisp on one side, cold on the other. Anna was, conspicuously if inevitably, absent. This was not surprising to anyone, though Missy sure pretended. ‘Why isn’t the bishop joining us?’
Runner (who, correction, was indeed surprised, and wounded) said, ‘She said she would come.’
‘She’s late. Romy, could you mark that down, please.’
Romy was anxious to finally discover the colour of the tyrant’s eyes. She started to ask but was interrupted by Missy.
‘Did you mark it down?’
Romy marked it down. ‘Are we starting?’
21 Did we mention she already had a cast on her right wrist? She broke it trying to break a fall and has consequently opted to just give into the fall when it happens, even if it turns out to be a drop of several feet as, for example, between the second and first floors of the Jacob Lighter Building. Apparently, she conducted mental exercises to ensure that, if she felt herself starting to go, she would close her eyes and fold her arms lightly across her chest. At least according to what she wrote in her diary.
Missy said, ‘Yes!’ and then more gently, ‘Yes.’ It was occurring to her that she’d been horrible to Romy the day before, regarding the elephants and the rabbits. She cast an involuntary glance towards Neil, feeling like a bad example.
Aline put up his hand. ‘I move that if we embrace the past then we must also embrace the future. I move that if we accept books of stone then we should be able to propose blogs. I’d like to propose a blog for our next book.’
Priya said, ‘What’s a blog?’
Missy said, ‘Not now, Aline.’
Aline looked down at her shoes. She said, ‘But it’s a relevant blog.’
Priya said, ‘What’s a blog?!’
Missy said, ‘Not now, Priya!’
And there was a swift flurry of whispering between Priya and Emmy, who, we presume, knew what a blog was.
Romy said, ‘What colour were his eyes, Runner?’
Runner, who didn’t know what a blog was either, looked genuinely confused for a moment and then she understood. And then she seemed to grow two inches.
Cedar.
She gestured subtly to Neil, who brought her the first stone. And the room felt warmer. All discussion of blogs and the future was hushed. Those tablets emanated heat: they were clay, and had been written while still wet and then fired in a kiln to fix the words, and they released the heat again only when the words were lifted from them by the act of reading. This was a good book for winter. Even if our winter was almost through.
