Friday, 10 January 2014

Prize at the bottom.

My blanket is the color of an Atlantic storm, my head sleepy like a wave. He comes into the room quietly and I can smell salt and earth and iron as he comes closer. I finally open my eyes and he stands there soaking wet, covered with mud, hair tangled and dripping, clothes ruined, watch and nails and the end of his nose streaked with dirt. He holds his hands clasped together tightly as if he has caught a small bird, except that it's not a bird. It's my heart and it's zombie-lurch-beating all over the place as he holds it.

I have it. I got it back for you. I got it back for me, I mean. Finders keepers, Peanut.

I will hide myself below
I'll be what you wanted
Kept inside I won't let go
Until I burn beyond control
Caleb tells me quietly as I finish signing things. That's all that I need right now. There will be more to do next week. 

Is it enough then?

Enough for what?

To buy what I need.

Bridget, just tell me what you need and I'll get it.

You know what it is. How much does it cost? 

You can't pay for that, Bridget. 

Why not?

The price is one soul for another and yours is not available, remember?

Then let me buy it back. I think I have enough now. 

No, not even close. 

Then keep your money. 

It's amazing. Faced with all of this, faced with me fixing his life too (he points in the direction of the main house), you still choose the dead over the living. I suppose I should be heartened by that since my brother is included in that but I don't. 

He isn't and I wouldn't bring him back even if I could.

Caleb walks right up to me as if he's about to haul off and show me his perfect echo of death but then he remembers that others are present. They might know of our arrangements but they don't need to witness intensely personal exchanges.

You can go. We'll do this early next week in the office. Tell your joker that he gets his no matter what and that he is to let you assist him in directing the funds. Don't forget. The last thing I want to see is him wasting my efforts. 

He doesn't waste money. 

Money changes people, Bridget. I was so hoping it would change you. 

Why? It's only made you meaner. 

It makes me impatient. I'm sorry if you interpret that as anger. 

It is anger. 

Time to go, Princess. And please don't ever speak ill of my brother again. He loved you and he existed knowing you loved someone else. We all have felt that and now we can't do a thing about it. Don't think that doesn't bring out the rage of all the angels. Don't think that doesn't make us ALL into monsters by default. Have Lochlan come and sign his papers this weekend. He doesn't deserve this but the least I can do is make us equals and then I'm going to make him suffer.

I liked you better when you at least pretended to get along with people. 

I could say the same about you, Princess.