Be Ready for the Lightning by Grace O'Connell

Author:Grace O'Connell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House of Canada
Published: 2017-06-06T04:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

Once the shooter has stopped screaming, there is silence. There has never been so much silence on 5th Avenue. The negotiator does not speak again.

The shooter is talking, though. He is talking again about how unhappy people are. I’m listening, and a part of me agrees. Standing behind me on the bus are Annie, her broken heart visible in her chest, and Ted, clutching his guitar and a bottle of whisky. And Conrad, his face split open, his blood mingling with the blood of the moustache man and the bald man who tried to save everyone and the driver who tried to talk the shooter into going home. And if there really was a paradise, an island beyond morning, full of adventure and happiness and peace and love, wouldn’t they want to go? Wouldn’t I want them to?

“He doesn’t understand. That man outside. But you people,” the shooter says. “You can make it there. It’s not even so much owing to my guidance. The island is looking for you. It is only that way that anyone can sight those magic shores. You know that. You know that.”

He points to the teenage girl with the urine-stained pants. “A million golden arrows pointing,” he says. “You can’t miss it. You won’t. Come stand with me. It’s time to start.”

The only movement is from the hands of the people on either side of the girl, who grip her. Her boyfriend has been separated from her, is back a few rows and off to the side. It doesn’t matter. The girl looks from side to side at the people holding her, a young man with a skinny striped tie and an older man with beautiful white hair combed straight back. The three of them stand there, linked.

“Come down here,” says the shooter, again. His melodic voice has gone flat. For the first time, he sounds angry.

The girl moves forward, and the young man beside her does too. He takes her hand and holds it against his chest, crumpling his sharp-looking tie. His dark skin shines with sweat. She looks at him, astonished. They move between the others together, down the steps. When they are about eight feet away, the shooter holds up his hand. He cocks his head and opens his mouth to speak. But before he says anything, there is another voice.

“Wait. Peter. I understand. I can hear.”

It’s not until he looks at me and says “Come here” that I realize I’m the one who spoke.

Without looking at her, he waves the teenage girl away from him. She and the young man who had walked with her are back in the crowd immediately, as if without moving.

“I can hear,” I say again, my body moving forward, not in a smooth way but jerky and unstable, like when you’re walking to the washroom after excellent, exhausting sex. Why? goes the wail in my head, long and high, my body divided against itself. Why why why? I have no answer, I have no mind at all, just a wagging tongue anchored to a body that is all sweat and tremble, stink and pain.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.