Dave Eggers - Your Fathers, Where Are They? And the Prophets, Do They Live Forever?

—

— See, you hadn’t thought of that, I’m guessing. You probably had your own escape planned but not the rescue of your mom. Thomas, she probably needs care. How old is she?

— I don’t know. Sixty-something.

— Okay. She is not suited for this kind of experience, do you understand me? So you need to remove her from this. You drive your mom to safety and then you give yourself enough time to make your way to and over the border. After that it’s up to you.

— That’s the most generous thing anyone’s said to me. But what about Sara?

— Who’s Sara?

— The woman on the beach.

— On what beach?

— I met a woman down there on the coast. And I think I already love her and there’s some kind of destiny at play here. There’s a glow around me, around everything I think about and everything I do, and I think it’s brought her to me.

— Okay. Okay. Now listen. I don’t know if you’re going to fall in love here at Fort Ord with five people kidnapped and chained to posts. Okay?

— Six. And I disagree, Congressman. I really do. You should see her.

— I’m sure she’s marvelous, son, but anything that keeps you here any longer guarantees your death, you understand me? She can’t save you from a SWAT team.

— They won’t get me. I have a plan.

— But my plan is better. My plan ensures that absolutely no one gets hurt. You go around and tell everyone you have chained up that they’ll be found tomorrow, then you and your mom get out of here. This whole thing will be over and you’ll be in Mexico living a new life. It’s the only way. Anything else jeopardizes your life or hers.

— Congressman, you are such an honorable man. And I plan to model my life after you when I leave here. I plan to tell Sara about you, too. She wouldn’t quite understand how we’ve been talking, but I’ll figure out a way later on to explain our acquaintance.

— Son.

— Shit. I better get going. This is when she walks her dog. For now I have to make it look like a coincidence that I’m seeing her again but after today there won’t be any need for any fakery or lies or anything like that. I’ll bring my light down around her and I’ll take her with me.

— Son.

— I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, sir.

— I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sara. I wish I didn’t have to bring you here this way. But you forced my hand.

— What is this?

— You look pretty out of it. I should have used less on you.

— Are you the guy from the beach? Where am I?

— Not far.

— Where’s my dog?

— He’s fine. I have him next door. I fed him.

— My head. I’m so dizzy.

— I’m really sorry. I should have used less on you for sure, given your size. That seems so obvious to me now. I’m so sorry. But again, I didn’t want to do this at all.

— What is this?

— It’s a shackle. It’s loose. Don’t pull on it.

— Why am I here?

— Just to talk.

— I don’t understand.

— It’s easier this way. I won’t harm you. That’s why I’m sitting all the way over here. It’s not because I’m standoffish or anything.

— And what do you want from me?

— Do you remember when I held your hand?

— On the beach?

— Yes. Do you remember what you did?

— I didn’t want to hold your hand.

— Right. And it got strange. So now I want to start over. I realize now that I was too forward down there. You had a right to pull away. It was too much too soon, and now I think we can slow down and talk this through.

— Talk what through?

— I have a proposal for you.

— Is this what you were talking about on the beach? The thing with the boat?

— It is, but I want to explain it better.

— I’m not going off in some boat with you.

— Let me explain.

— Please. Just let me go.

— Sara. Calm down. I’m calm. You should be calm. This is a normal enough situation. We’re talking. I’ve stopped time so we can just talk. I won’t harm you. I even gave you my pillow and sleeping bag. You can lie down if you want.

— I don’t want to. I want to get out. I want to go home.

— Then just tell me why you wouldn’t hold my hand.

— Hold your hand?

— When I tried you flinched and your eyes went cold.

— I didn’t know you. You’re some stranger on the beach and suddenly you take my hand and stare into my eyes like that? What did you want me to do?

— Well, this is where the proposal comes in. If you’ll let me explain. Can I?

— I don’t know.

— Okay. Thank you. First, I want to say that I like you a great deal. I think you’re beautiful, and you’re in many ways the manifestation of the ideals I’ve held for what a woman can be. Is it acceptable that I say that?

— Fine.

— You seem like an independent person. You’re self-possessed. You can be alone. When I saw you from a distance even, I thought that you were someone like me. That you could walk alone on the shore and you sought out that kind of solitude. Is that accurate?

— Sure.

— And when we first met a few days ago, when I saw your face and heard your voice, your candor and your humor, the way you would smile while looking down, drawing arcs in the sand with your toe, I found you to be so charming and humble and warm. And do you remember when you asked me about the scar near my eye?

— Yes.

— No one’s asked me about that in years. I can’t remember the last time anyone cared. And that’s when I took your hand. And I realize it was too sudden. It was too sudden to tell you about my plan, and the boat. I realize that. But I hope you can forgive me for being impetuous. It comes just from a sense of knowing what’s right, and what should happen, and wanting to get started.

— And where are we going again?

— I can’t tell you yet. Not until you agree. But I can guarantee you’ll be safe, and I really know we’ll be happy. I believe in the fulfillment of promises. And all this week there has been a confluence of forces that have brought me many truths and a semblance of progress and completion. Everything was making sense, and many things were coming together, and I thought the manifestation of all that was meeting you. I thought, and still think, that we were placed on that beach at the same time by a divine hand that intended us together.

— So we get on this boat and never come back?

— I don’t know if we’ll come back.

— And if I don’t come?

— Then you don’t come.

— You won’t harm me.

— I would never harm you. I haven’t harmed any of the others.

— There are others here like this? Chained up?

— Just six.

— Oh no.

— No one’s hurt.

— Everyone’s alive?

— Of course everyone’s alive. I’m a moral man. Sara, you have to understand that this has been a certain week when I stopped time and asked questions. I’m just a normal man but I was able to do this and you have to admit that means some other force was at work, right? The first person I brought here was an astronaut. That means something’s happening, right? Doesn’t it mean that I’m touched in some way? That there’s something like destiny at work?

— I have no idea.

— I would never believe in this kind of thing, either. Believe me. There’s no way. But too many things have happened this week, and now I have to submit to all this.

— Submit to what?

— This design. This order of events. I think all of these opportunities were presented to me, in this order, so I could answer the questions I needed to answer, settle all that needed settling, and then start anew.