The Nearly Complete Works, Volume 1

by Donald Harington

  I speak these words over him, then scatter some pieces of his charcoal over him, then fill his grave with the dirt. I make his marker of wood, of pine, he who lived by wood and died by it. With my pocketknife I carve his name and his dates, and this: “The last Montross of Dudleytown, but one.”

  Now I go looking for Renz. But he is scarce. His old mother says he has gone to work for a man in the next town, Goshen. What man? She does not know his name. How long will he be gone? Who knows? she says. When he comes back, I say, tell him I am waiting for him.

  Should I see the constable of Cornwall? Would it do any good? Could he find any evidence, or force a confession? No witnesses. An impoverished middle-aged man, drunk on beer, falls into a charcoal pit and burns. Who would care?

  My mother takes five days to come. A boy from The Bridge brings me a message: your mother has arrived on the train but is not able to make it home. Come for her. I hitch the wagon again and drive to the railway station. She is lying on a bench, her eyes closed. She has not brought Charity back with her. I put my hand on her face and feel her fever. She opens her eyes. “I’m ill, Daniel,” she says. “Take me home to die.”

  The train men help me get her into the wagon.

  15

  One afternoon in August with already a hint of autumn in the air, Diana took Daniel up the hill in search of his father’s grave. She did not expect to find a headstone—the marker had been made of wood, which would have rotted long ago—but if she could only find a mound of earth that looked like a grave in the right place, it would be something to believe in.

  But even a mound of earth settles and sinks after so many years, and the woods gave no bearings to Daniel in his search for the site of the grave. They could not find anything. Diana heard laughter, and for a moment she was certain it was Ferrenzo Allyn laughing at them, and she quickly brought Day out of his trance. Day listened too, and heard laughter. “Just another intruder,” he said.

  The laughter was coming from the direction of their camp. They went back downhill, away from the unfound grave, to see who was laughing in their camp.

  They found their camp occupied, by a group of seven persons. These persons at first glance were indistinguishable as to sex, for the males among them had shoulder-length hair. All of them were young; no older than Diana, no younger than Day; a few years earlier they would have been called hippies. It was the older of the males, also bearded, who was doing most of the laughing, and when he caught sight of Diana and Day he laughed again and said, “For joy. Thou art children, and blessed. Glorious sight.”

  One of the others said, “Behold, thy dwelling place is fair.”

  One of the females said to another, “For I am persuaded of good chimes here, Rebekah. Dost thou hear good chimes?” and the one addressed as Rebekah said, “Glorious.”

  The laughing one, the original speaker, turned to Day. “What is thy pilgrimage, brother?” he asked Day. When Day did not immediately reply, he continued, “Art thou settled? Or abidest thou here only for the eventide?”

  Day exchanged looks with Diana, and she declared, “it isn’t exactly a pilgrimage.”

  “All men pilgrimage,” he said. “What is thine?”

  “Nature study,” Diana said.

  “Glorious!” said several of them at once.

  “But,” said the laughing one, “what dost thou study nature with?”

  Diana gave him a puzzled expression and shrugged her shoulders.

  “Acid?” he said.

  She knew that word. She shook her head.

  “Thou are not a head, then,” he said. “So how dost thou swing with nature? What is thy potion? Grass?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Bennies?” he said. “Crystal?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Art thou shooting smack?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  The boy who seemed closest to the laughing one, always keeping near him and occasionally grasping his elbow as if to hang on, said to him, “This brother and sister walk the straight path, Zeph. They are pharisees.”

  “Verily,” said the laughing one.

  One of the girls said, “Let’s crash here, anyway. I get good chimes in this place.”

  “Verily,” the laughing one said. He asked Diana, “Couldst thou nurture these thy brethren with any morsel from thy table?” There was no trace of beggary in his voice; he sounded as if he were offering to do her a favor.

  “Sure,” she said, and walked over to the ice chest and opened it. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

  Diana found a package of ground beef, but not enough to go around. Enough, at least, for spaghetti sauce. “How about spaghetti?” she suggested to the laughing one.

  “Glorious,” he said, and the others echoed him.

  Day filled their largest pot with water and built a fire to boil it. Then he went off into the woods to gather greens and mushrooms for the salad. He did not seem terribly pleased at the prospect of dinner guests, especially these.

  There were not enough plates to go around, nor enough forks, but this did not hinder the guests, who shared plates and who, forkless, ate with fingers. Diana passed around a large bottle of Chianti, and the guests drank from the bottle. They seemed to be extremely hungry and thirsty, and all of them had second helpings; some had thirds. The bottle was soon empty, and Diana, lacking another, opened a domestic Burgundy and passed it around.

  The guests were appreciative. They frequently said “Glorious” during the meal, and after the meal they lay on the ground holding their stomachs and chanting “Glorious” and “Rejoice” and “Exceedingly Glad.”

  The laughing one decided to introduce himself and his friends. He was Zephaniah, he said. Had they ever heard of Zephaniah, formerly called Mu, formerly of the rock group called The Grape Group? No? Well, here beside him was Esaias, also formerly of The Grape Group, formerly called The Flake. The other brother over there, he hadn’t belonged to The Grape Group, they picked him up in Massachusetts. His name was Barnabas. The four “sisters” were: the larger blonde, Bathsheba; the lesser and lighter blonde, Zeresh; the brunette, Vashti; and the auburn-haired, Rebekah.

  Rebekah and Vashti were dressed in shirts and jeans; the two blondes wore daishikis; all, like the men, except for the one called Barnabas, were barefoot, and all had scarred and scabbed soles.

  Diana asked Zephaniah how they had happened to stumble upon this camp. He explained that until recently they had been communards in The Fellowship of The Vital Flesh, up in Massachusetts, where they had discovered their saviour Jesus and his wonderful teachings, but the fellowship had become too crowded and they had been evicted for holding heterodox interpretations of the Divine Message. Since then they had been wandering, and just last week had discovered the Appalachian Trail and decided to follow it.

  “And behold, it brought us here,” he said. “So how long hast thou dwelt here?”

  “About nine weeks,” she answered.

  “Wondrous!” Zephaniah exclaimed. “Nine weeks! Glorious! But why?”

  “It’s a long story,” she said.

  “So?” he said. “Time is long.”

  Diana had already been asking herself if she should reveal to these people the true nature of their “pilgrimage.” It might impress them, especially the part about reincarnation. But she didn’t know how Day would feel about it; he would probably be reluctant to demonstrate for them. He wasn’t comfortable with these people, she could see that. As for herself, she respected flower children or Jesus freaks or whatever they were, even if she could never be one, and she welcomed company after such a long time alone with Day. At least she thought she did. She told herself she did. But their “pilgrimage,” hers and Day’s, was a private thing and she didn’t want to tell them all about it. So she merely answered, “There used to be a town here, and we’re exploring it.”

  Zephaniah looked around him. The others looked around. “Where?” several of them said. “Yes, where?” said Zephaniah. />
  “Out of sight,” Diana said.

  Zephaniah laughed, but then he gave her a look that questioned if she were mocking. “Verily,” he said. “Verily.”

  “You didn’t notice any of the cellar holes?” she asked.

  “What is a cellar hole?” Zephaniah asked.

  “Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you.”

  Slowly they all got up off the ground and followed her in single file down the trail toward the center of Dudleytown. Zephaniah caught up with her and walked beside her. Day brought up the distant rear. She gave these people a guided tour of Dudleytown, pointing out the cellar holes of the houses of Parmenter, Jones-Jenner, Dudley, Bardwell and Temple, the yards around still growing long-ago planted clumps of locust, lilac, rose and tansy.

  “Verily, a forsaken place,” Zephaniah said. “A forsaken place. Why did they leave?”

  “Various reasons,” Diana said, and gave the group a short history of Dudleytown and its decline.

  “Man, they just lucked out!” said the one called Barnabas, and got a frown from Zephaniah.

  The girl called Bathsheba held her arms out as far as they would reach from her sides and exclaimed, “Hey! Wouldn’t this be the right place for a commune!”

  The one called Rebekah agreed. “Yeah! Let’s start a commune. I really get good chimes in this place.”

  Several others said, “Glorious! A commune! Verily! Let’s start our commune here!”

  Day gave Diana a most pained look.

  Zephaniah cocked his ear and said, “Hark. Is it the sound of water mine ears heareth?”

  Diana pointed. “There’s a waterfall right down the road there.”

  “Glorious! Let us go there!” Zephaniah suggested and began to trot down the road toward Marcella Falls. The others trotted after him.

  Day and Diana followed together. Day said to her, “It looks like we’re stuck with permanent guests.”

  “No,” she said. “They’ll move on if we ask them to.”

  “And what if they won’t?” Day said.

  “They will. One thing about these people, they’re considerate for the feelings of others. It’s part of their code.”

  As soon as the group reached Marcella Falls and saw the pool below it, all of them began undressing. “Let us exalt the flesh,” Zephaniah declared. “Let ablutions in this glorious water cleanse our vital bodies and refresh our spirits.” Several others said “Amen.” Soon they were all naked and jumped into the pool with whoops of “Glorious” and a few screeches from the girls because of the cold water.

  “Come join us and be cleansed, brother and sister!” Zephaniah called to Day and Diana.

  Diana hesitated.

  Day asked her, “Do you want to?”

  “Yes and no,” she said. “I will if you will.”

  “I don’t see the point,” he said. “We just had our bath here a few hours ago.”

  “On the other hand,” she said, “they’ll think we’re awful squares if we don’t join them. Come on. It’s a very innocent thing. And when I’m an old lady I can tell my grandchildren about the one time in my life when I went for a communal skinny dip.”

  Day laughed, but with some discomfort. “Go on, then,” he said, “but I’ll tell our grandchildren that Grandpa was a chicken and just sat on the bank and watched while Grandma had her fun.”

  “Oh, Day,” she said, disappointment mingled with delight at his picture of them talking to their grandchildren. She quickly kissed him. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s don’t be prudes with these people.”

  The others seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves. They were having water fights and playing tag and in general romping and flouncing around in the water without any trace of self-consciousness or modesty. The girl called Vashti had very large breasts which bounced a lot. The blonde called Zeresh was definitely not a blonde in her pubic hair, as Diana was. Barnabas and Esaias were circumcised, she noticed, but Zephaniah was not. Esaias had an erection, but was not self-conscious about it, and none of the others seemed to notice. Well, Diana thought, at least I can tell my grandchildren that I watched a communal skinny dip.

  “Go on, if you want to,” Day said. “I don’t care.”

  “Are you sure?” she challenged him.

  “Sure,” he said. “I’ll probably get a kick out of watching you.”

  “Voyeur!” she said. But she discovered that her fingers were unbuttoning her shirt.

  “If it weren’t for us voyeurs,” he said, “you exhibitionists wouldn’t have any fun.”

  She continued undressing. “I’ll tell our grandchildren you said that!” she said, laughing, and then, fully naked, turned her back to him and climbed down the bank to join the others.

  “Welcome, sister!” Zephaniah exclaimed. “Thou hast a freedom unknown to thy fainthearted friend.” And he took her hands and waltzed her out into the water. The other boys were giving her admiring looks, while the girls were giving her green looks. She knew that her figure was as good as any of theirs.

  She joined their play, and splashed back at them when they splashed her, and participated in their game of water tag. But the sport, she noticed, was becoming not-so-innocent. The one called Esaias, who had an erection, had apparently decided to use it. He grabbed the one called Rebekah and dragged her down into the water and got himself between her legs. Rebekah squealed with pleasure and said “Glorious!” Diana felt suddenly embarrassed and realized she was blushing; she quickly sat down in the water, covering herself to her neck.

  Zephaniah came and sat down beside her. Indicating with a nod of his head what Esaias and Rebekah were doing, he asked her, “Art thou aghast? Dost thou not know that our saviour commands it?”

  She felt his hand, under water, on her thigh. She brushed it off. “Your saviour,” she said. “Not mine.” She glanced over her shoulder to see if Day was watching. He wasn’t. He was in conversation with a stranger, a middle-aged man in khakis.

  “Thou must not close thy mind to the message,” Zephaniah said, and put his hand on her thigh again.

  “We’ve got company,” she said, and pointed toward the stranger. Zephaniah squinted at the man talking to Day on the bank. “Pig?” he said.

  “Maybe a game warden or something,” Diana said.

  The girl called Bathsheba came over and seized Zephaniah’s erect penis and said, “Hey, this is mine, not thine,” and gave Diana a look both defiant and catty. Then she sat down into Zephaniah’s lap.

  “Cool it,” Zephaniah said to the girl. “The Man is watching. If he’s not a pig, he could be a narc.”

  But the man, after a few more words with Day, turned and walked off. Bathsheba began bouncing up and down in Zephaniah’s lap, and Zephaniah wrapped his arms around her and groaned, “Oh, glorious!”

  Diana got out of the water and climbed the bank. She asked Day, “What did he want?”

  “He’s just some local landowner,” Day said. “He asked me what we were doing here, and why I wasn’t in the water too and how come I didn’t have long hair like the others, and then he said, ‘Why, it looks to me like those two kids are fucking,’ and I said, ‘Yes, that’s what it looks like to me too,’ and then he said, ‘Well, I don’t own this land but if I did I would put a stop to this fucking,’ and he asked me again what I was doing, and I said I was just watching, and he said, ‘You like to watch that fucking?’ and then he asked, ‘Why aren’t you out there fucking too?’ and I said, ‘I like to do my fucking in private,’ and he said, ‘Me too,’ but then he just gave me an odd look and walked on off. Diana, what if we just went on back to the tent? Do you think they would follow us?”

  “Maybe not,” Diana said and quickly dressed. She took Day’s hand and they walked up the road toward home. “Maybe,” she said, “they will get the hint.”

  Back at the tent, Day asked her, “Do you find that Zephaniah character very attractive?”

  “Well,” Diana said, and pondered the question. “There’s something sort of i
nstinctual about him which probably draws girls to him. Sort of an animal magnetism. But no, he’s not my type.”

  “Am I your type?” Day asked.

  She gave him a playful kiss. “No, but I like you a lot better.”

  As dusk fell, it began to rain. They took their radio into the tent and turned it on to WQXR. Diana and Day searched the camp for anything else that should not be left out in the rain, and discovered two guitars and seven assorted packs, satchels, and blanket rolls belonging to Zephaniah and his friends. She asked Day to help her move this stuff into the tent and out of the rain. Day said, “They’re bound to come back for these things.”

  “Yes,” Diana said with a sigh, “and they’re bound to seek shelter from the rain, and we’re bound to give it to them.”

  These words were scarcely out of her mouth before she saw them coming, laughing and leaping in the rain. Zephaniah thanked her profusely for having the foresight to move his guitar and bag in out of the rain, and to show his thanks he tuned his guitar and played a rousing rock-spiritual number for her, first turning off the Sibelius that was coming from WQXR.

  The nine of them sat in a tight circle inside the tent, and Esaias opened his bag and took out a pipe and filled it with marijuana and lighted it and passed it around. Diana knew that she was more or less immune to the stuff, so when her turn came she took the pipe and inhaled. To her surprise, Day did not pass up his turn, but he had a bad coughing attack on the first round. The second round he was more careful.

  Esaias joined Zephaniah with his guitar, and the two of them played their repertoire of rock-spirituals. The marijuana pipe was refilled and recirculated. For a while the group attempted to continue speaking in their biblical language, but eventually most of them, especially the girls, lapsed back into obsolete hiplingua: “Right on.” “Do a number.” “Far out.” “Spaced.” “Turn his head around.”