Virgil blinks twice. I know, he says. I’ve seen it.
Dodds dug it. Parson helped him.
Stone-faced now. Not running up the hill. Listening to me. And?
Two holes, connected, make a line. I work my mouth into a grin. Three holes, now. Three holes make a figure.
That’s right, Asa. For the birds to look at.
An angel would see it, I say. Looking down from on high. I take in a breath. Or even from the attic.
His eyes get rounder. He fashions the word ‘attic’ with his lips.
I killed my mother when I was born, Virgil! And my father was born blue-blooded out of me.
He’s off and running now, stumbling and cursing. Off toward the house.
Good-bye, Virgil. Good-bye, house!
Take a pencil with you, Virgil! I shout after him. Make a sketch!
From Parson’s Day-Book
In using hair or other parts of the body, it is essential to make sure they come from the correct person, as is suggested by the cautionary tale of John Fian, school-master of Saltpans in Midlothian, which is told in a pamphlet of 1591, “News from Scotland.”
Fian conceived a passion for the older sister of one his pupils and persuaded the little boy to bring him one of her pubic hairs. When the boy tried to take these hairs from the sleeping girl, she awoke and cried out. Their mother came and, discovering what had happened, took three hairs from the udders of a young heifer and gave them to the boy, who passed them on to Fian. Fian “wrought his art upon them” and in a little while the heifer came to him, “leaping and dancing upon him,” and pursued him everywhere, “to the great admiration of all the townspeople of Saltpans.”
Last Conference
COLONEL—You asked to see me, Virgil?
VIRGIL—I’ve been to the top of the house, Colonel. To the attic.
COLONEL (PAUSE) — You’ve been to the attic.
VIRGIL—That’s right, Colonel. I made a sketch.
COLONEL—Hold on a bit, Virgil. You’re carrying on like poor Asa, bless him. Sit down a moment and catch your air.
VIRGIL (SHAKES HEAD) — You’ve been keeping clear of the real business all this time. I know that now—; and I don’t blame you for it. But take a look at this map of the grounds I’ve drawn. It just might give you pause.
COLONEL—I can’t think what you’re getting at. The Redeemer himself appointed me in charge of — in head of — you know as well as I—
VIRGIL—What the Hell have you been interviewing us for?
COLONEL (INAUDIBLE)
VIRGIL—What was that, you old tippler? What was that?
COLONEL—I–I. Yes. (PAUSE) — He told me to.
VIRGIL—Parson?
COLONEL (QUIETLY) — Please to leave now, Virgil. Please to let me be.
VIRGIL—You’ll damn well look at this sketch I’ve drawn. (PAUSE) — And I’ve got something else to show you. (PULLS BOTTLE OUT OF COAT POCKET)
COLONEL—What’s that now, Virgil? (SMILES) — A bottle of perfume?
VIRGIL—Your name is on it, Colonel. There. Just below the stopper.
COLONEL (PAUSE) — What is it, then? Something pickled—?
VIRGIL—Have you been letting them take the knife to you, you old imbecile?
COLONEL (INAUDIBLE) — Ah—aah—
VIRGIL—Here! Take a closer look. (SHAKES BOTTLE)
COLONEL—What is it? Can you tell me? For mercy’s sake—
VIRGIL—I wouldn’t venture more than a guess. It looks to me like the bottom of an ear.
COLONEL—Parson never touched me, Virgil! Never!
VIRGIL—Lean forward, grand-dad. Lift your hair a bit.
COLONEL—Virgil — I’m telling you—
VIRGIL—Jesus!
COLONEL—Yes. All right. (PAUSE) — Yes.
(SILENCE)
COLONEL—What has he got up there, Virgil? Have you seen it?
VIRGIL—Enough bottles to open an apothecary. Three or more from each of us. Mine were empty. Yours, on the other hand, were full.
COLONEL—It was Asa I let cut me. The bottles were his. (PAUSE) — He’s my god-son, after all. I told old Sam Trist that I’d mind him. That I’d see — that I’d see to his education—
VIRGIL—I’d say he’s taken his degree.
COLONEL—You have no idea what that child has su fered, Virgil! None! Even I don’t know the half of it. I mean, little Asa — his father, Virgil— you have no idea—
VIRGIL—Not yet, Colonel. But I’m learning quick.
COLONEL—What do you mean?
VIRGIL—There’s but one window in that attic. About eye-level to a boy of six.
COLONEL (PAUSE) — Yes. The window. Asa told me once. (PAUSE) — He used to go up there to hide.
VIRGIL—Have you ever looked out of it?
COLONEL—Why the devil should I? I’d barely make the steps in my condition.I shouldn’t wonder if I had a pleurism—
VIRGIL—Morelle’s put us on a grid, Colonel. He’s made a trellis out of us for his clambering spirit. Look at this drawing!
COLONEL—Give it here. (PAUSE) — Well, Virgil. I see you’ve sketched the grounds.
VIRGIL—It’s the Ladder, Colonel. Look at it carefully.
COLONEL (PAUSE) — The which?
VIRGIL—I’ve made marks where Morelle is buried, and where Harvey is. And here, where another hole’s been dug—: you see? Look at the play of paths between the buildings. Morelle is Malkuth, the top of the ladder. Harvey is Yesod, just below. The hole behind the tobacco-house is Hod. Do you see it yet? Each circle, each building is placed exactly at a sephira, a stop on the path to earth from heaven. Think of it! (PAUSE) — The next hole will be behind the smoke-house.
COLONEL (PAUSE) — Perhaps you’d best sit down a moment, Virgil. Take a spot of rest—
VIRGIL—What! You mean you actually don’t see it?
COLONEL—You — you’re not making any sense, Virgil. What you’ve drawn is a map of the grounds.
VIRGIL (MUMBLING) — The signs were all around me, of course, but I lacked the eyes to see them. It took poor cracked Asa to enlighten me. The grounds are a playing field, a grid, a game of Chinese marbles—; and our cadavers are the pieces. (PAUSE) — The Redeemer’s not dead, Colonel. Not in any sense that matters. He’ll be back with us directly.
COLONEL (LOUDLY) — KENNEDY!
VIRGIL—Don’t call Kennedy in here, damn you! Just have a look again— here, at the bottom corner—
COLONEL—I’ve looked at it already, Virgil. I see nothing but the grounds. (CLEARS THROAT) — I’ll have Parson look it over, if you like.