The Life and Times of Captain N. by Douglas Glover

Author:Douglas Glover
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Goose Lane Editions
Published: 2013-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Turning the Brain Upside Down

October 1780

A Falling Stone

The boy bears down on a goose quill, lopped off three inches from the nib for easy packing, splattering dribbles of ink on the printed roster sheets he uses for paper. His tongue protrudes and licks his upper lip in his effort of concentration. Are you ready to tell the truth? he thinks. Are you ready yet?

He writes: “I intend to tell the Truth but It is werrie difficult to grapple with. The Truth is a Mask & its Signe is Division. It is Nought but what lies between Things. It whirls. Yet I believe that to know It is a kind of Madness and a joyful Relief.

“This is what my Father Hendrick said.

“They call my Father Dutch Henry or the Scourge of Schoharie for his Deeds. He is Quick & Hot. You can see it on Men’s Faces when he rides along the Column of March or issues an Order. Some say he has the Pox or the French Disease from consorting with Savages. His Eyes are inflamed & run for wch Dr. McCausland prescribes an Ointment wch I believe he bought of the Indians (they say the Dr sewed a silver Plate up in a Girl’s Head but she died among the Messessagey).

“Father said he is a falling Stone. He said the Heart is Bipartite when cut open like a Mask. He said for a White Man to become an Indian is like entering a swarming Madness. Becoming an Indian is difficult as knowing the Truth or becoming a Child agin. But it might redeem you.

“Tom Wopat returned my Lettres to Washington and Beatrice. He said he kilt the Dentist. He a-carries a bag of Masks, a Bag of Faces. Tom Wopat’s Specialty is ye Storm or Whirlwind Mask wch Pattern he says is werrie olde & its Meaning forgotten. It is the Face of He Defends Us, ye Dweller at the World’s Rim, the ancient Father of Masks.

“I write this only for Myself, without Address, having lost my Pre-Texts & Pre-Tences. I am the empty Man, thin as a Line of Ink. I am nought, without Hopes or Memories. I am the Words as they slide off the Nib of my Pen.

“This is all confused but meant to be the black Heart’s Truth tho’ I meander in’t. I’ll destroy it when I finish.”

Oskar is a falling stone.

He suffers from a quartan fever and shingles. His hair is falling out. When a fever fit comes, he sits awhile beside the trail like a minor earthquake, throwing off a shower of hairs like cornsilk strands. He never sleeps. He has become a stumbling wraith of sleeplessness, addicted to the rush of terror he feels going into battle. Otherwise he peers about and observes his own flashing decline.

He finishes his sentence with a flourish and signs himself with an X and a figured mask (half-white, half-crosshatched). Then he balls up the blank roster sheet and tosses it on the fire. He drains the

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.