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That’s fine by h of the silent life
You see just fine
I been on ht
Anyway, I don’t oin on I ain’t in all irl’s cursed
Cursed? Moses says The friar thinks she’s blessed
These religious types think everything’s blessed Dump a bucket of shit on their head, and they’ll thank God for it not being two buckets But I’ll tell you so
Abraham points the toothpick at his brother to oes on Whatever hell those walking dead cairl they’re afraid of
You got a vision, Abe There’s no denyin it The way you see the world – those eyes of yours ought to be enshrined soaze at his brother, as if unsure of the true thrust of the rerins proudly despite himself
But it don’t make any difference, Moses says Because tomorroe leave, we’re takin her with us
Who?
The Vestal
What in the hell would we do that for? If you want to steal soo for one of the other ones? Maybe one that kno to cook
We ain’t stealin her
That Ignatius ain’t gonna be very happy with you stealing his cannongirl
I said we ain’t stealing her The friar asked us to take her soonna take her
Where?
North
How far north?
Colorado Springs
Colorado? Shit Is it gonna be snow on the ground?
It’s a likelihood
You know I ain’t good with the incles
You’ll endure
What’s in Colorado anyway?
A citadel
A what now?
A church
Another church?
That’s right
Jesus, we’re spendin a lot of tiospel What happens if I coodified and priesty? What happens if I want to take the vow?
Moses chuckles
I wouldn’t worry about it
Abraham is quiet for a while He picks his teeth with the wood splinter and looks thoughtfully at the bea across the roof of the stable
What’re we doin this for, Mose? he asks Really now
It’s a ot one
Abraham nods
But let’s be clear on this, Abraham says You were the one that wanted a h, he says My ht then, he says finally I’ll co with you on your mission It’s a brother’s duty, ain’t it?
And later, well past ht when Moses cannot sleep, he rises from the crib and steals out of the stable to stand under the coal-black sky and listen to the shrill cricket-song stretched taut and incontrovertible over the desert
He sits heavily on one of the picnic tables and folds his hands as though waiting politely for so him sustenance His beard is dark and heavy
Soon someone does come It is the Vestal Amata, still dressed in her white robes, and she sits down across from him and looks into his eyes
He has not been, for many years, the kind of o, before things changed Then he was cleanshaven, tall but still lithe He kne to be playful He kne to juggle oranges found underneath a laden orange tree Now he has forgotten es and draws lines he dares people not to cross He is a rit of constant violence He is a barbarian, he knows
So he does not knohat to make of a woht He suspects again this Vestal – her slightly sneering ht at the world and its barbaric things
We’re taking you, he says to her My brother and natius told me, says the Vestal
She confronts him with her obstinate silence He does not knohether he seeks refusal or gratefulness, but he finds that he has no gaame
Sunrise, he says Just after sunrise