George Saunders - Lincoln in the Bardo

To deceive you.

captain william prince

He was pacing a wide stumbling circle now, head in hands.

roger bevins iii

The Moon was high and I said to myself sometimes a man must preserve the peace & spare the One he loves. Which I have done. Until now. I planned to tell you this not in a leter but in person. When perhaps the warmth of the telling might soften the blow. But my situation appearing hopeless in the extreme, my homecoming now never to occur, I tell all to you, cry out to you, in truest voice (I fuked the smaller of the 2, I did, I did it), in hopes that you, and He who hears & forgives all, will hear & forgive all and allow me now to leave this wretched—

captain william prince

Then a blinding flash of light came from near the obelisk, and the familiar, yet always bone-chilling, firesound associated with the matterlightblooming phenomenon.

roger bevins iii

And he was gone.

hans vollman

His shabby uniform pants raining down, and his shirt, and his boots, and his cheap iron wedding ring.

roger bevins iii

Some of the lesser members of the gathered crowd now began running amok, mocking at the soldier, inflicting various perverse and disrespectful postures upon his sick-mound — not out of meanness, for there is no meanness in them; but rather from excess of feeling.

In this they can be like wild dogs let into a slaughterhouse — racing about upon the spilled blood, driven mad by the certainty that some sort of satisfaction must be near at hand.

hans vollman

My goodness, I thought, poor fellow! You did not give this place a proper chance, but fled it recklessly, leaving behind forever the beautiful things of this world.

And for what?

You do not know.

A most unintelligent wager.

Forgoing eternally, sir, such things as, for example: two fresh-shorn lambs bleat in a new-mown field; four parallel blind-cast linear shadows creep across a sleeping tabby’s midday flank; down a bleached-slate roof and into a patch of wilting heather bounce nine gust-loosened acorns; up past a shaving fellow wafts the smell of a warming griddle (and early morning pot-clangs and kitchen-girl chatter); in a nearby harbor a mansion-sized schooner tilts to port, sent so by a flag-rippling, chime-inciting breeze that causes, in a port-side schoolyard, a chorus of childish squeals and the mad barking of what sounds like a dozen—

roger bevins iii

Friend.

Now is hardly the time.

hans vollman

Many apologies.

But (as I believe you must know) the thing is not entirely under my control.

roger bevins iii

The crowd, having suspended its perversities, stood gaping at Mr. Bevins, who had acquired, in the telling, such a bounty of extra eyes, ears, noses, hands, etc., that he now resembled some overstuffed fleshly bouquet.

Bevins applied his usual remedy (closing the eyes and stopping as many of the noses and ears as he could with the various extra hands, dulling, thereby, all sensory intake, thus quieting the mind) and multiple sets of the eyes, ears, noses, and hands retracted or vanished (I could never tell which).

The crowd returned to its abuse of the soldier’s sick-mound, “Badger” Muller pretending to piss upon it, Mrs. Sparks squatting over it, screwing her face into an ugly grimace.

Look here, she grunted. I leave the coward a gift.

hans vollman

And we proceeded on.

roger bevins iii

Walk-skimming between (or over, when unavoidable) the former home-places of so many fools no longer among us.

hans vollman

Goodson, Raynald, Slocum, Mackey, VanDycke, Piescer, Sliter, Peck, Safko, Swift, Roseboom.

roger bevins iii

For example.

hans vollman

Simkins, Warner, Persons, Lanier, Dunbar, Schuman, Hollingshead, Nelson, Black, VanDuesen.

roger bevins iii

These were, it must be conceded, in the majority, outnumbering our ilk by perhaps an order of magnitude.

hans vollman

Topenbdale, Haggerdown, Messerschmidt, Brown.

roger bevins iii

Underscoring the exceptional qualities of those of us who soldiered on.

hans vollman

Coe, Mumford, Risely, Rowe.

Their places were so quiet, and from these, at dusk, as we whirled out of our respective home-places, nothing whirled out whatsoever, and the contents of their—

roger bevins iii

Sick-boxes.

hans vollman

Lay down there inert, discarded, neglected.

roger bevins iii

Regrettable.

hans vollman

Like discarded horses waiting in vain for beloved riders to return.

roger bevins iii

Edgmont, Tody, Blasingame, Free.

hans vollman

Haberknott, Bewler, Darby, Kerr.

roger bevins iii

These were a chirpy, tepid, desireless sort, generally, and had lingered, if at all, for only the briefest of moments, so completely satisfactory had they found their tenure in that previous place.

hans vollman

Smiling, grateful, gazing about themselves in wonder, favoring us with a last fond look as they—

roger bevins iii

Surrendered.

hans vollman

Succumbed.

roger bevins iii

Capitulated.

hans vollman

We found the gentleman as had been described to us, near Bellingwether, Husband, Father, Shipwright.

hans vollman

Sitting cross-legged and defeated in a patch of tall grass.

roger bevins iii

As we approached, he lifted head from hands and heaved a great sigh. He might have been, in that moment, a sculpture on the theme of Loss.

hans vollman

Shall we? Mr. Vollman said.

I hesitated.

The Reverend would not approve, I said.

The Reverend is not here, he said.

roger bevins iii

In order to occupy the greatest percentage of the gentleman’s volume, I lowered myself into his lap and sat cross-legged, just as he was sitting.

hans vollman

The two now comprised one sitting man, Mr. Vollman’s greater girth somewhat overflowing the gentleman, his massive member existing wholly outside the gentleman, pointing up at the moon.

roger bevins iii

It was quite something.

Quite something in there.

Bevins, come in! I called out. This is not to be missed.

hans vollman

I went in, assuming the same cross-legged posture.

roger bevins iii

And the three of us were one.

hans vollman

So to speak.

roger bevins iii

There was a touch of prairie about the fellow.

hans vollman

Yes.

roger bevins iii

Like stepping into a summer barn late at night.

hans vollman

Or a musty plains office, where some bright candle still burns.

roger bevins iii

Vast. Windswept. New. Sad.

hans vollman

Spacious. Curious. Doom-minded. Ambitious.

roger bevins iii

Back slightly out.

hans vollman

Right boot chafing.

roger bevins iii

The recent entry of the (youthful) Mr. Bevins now caused the gentleman a mild thought-swerve back to a scene from his own (wild) youth: a soft-spoken but retrograde (dirty cheeks, kind eyes) lass leading him shyly down a muddy path, nettles accruing on her swaying green skirt as, in his mind, at the time, a touch of shame rose up, having to do with his sense that this girl was not really fair game, i.e., was more beast than lady, i.e., did not even know how to read.

hans vollman

Becoming aware of that which he was remembering, the man’s face reddened (we could feel it reddening) at the thought that he was (in the midst of this tragic circumstance) remembering such a sordid incident.

roger bevins iii

And he hurriedly directed his ( our ) mind elsewhere, so as to leave this inappropriate thought behind.