You Holy Screaming Symphony by J. C. Dorian

Author:J. C. Dorian
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction & Literature
Publisher: Jenna C. Dorian
Published: 2016-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

Pa led me down a hill

The hill behind the house and past the chopping block where I spent most of the winter and into the forest, deep into the forest. Pa said nothing. I feared any second the moment would turn ugly. Any second he would wake up and realize he was leading me or maybe realize he was being nearly kind. But the anxious seconds turned to minutes, gentle minutes. And time lingered in the air like the fog we were walking through.

He led me on and I’d never seen him so careful. He meandered through the wood recognizing every tree and rock as a landmark, like he was a caretaker. I found that he even held branches from slapping back into my face. Some moments I caught his eyes and swore I saw something gather there. That moment and every moment that followed was delicate and fragile like old lace—the sober father leading his one-legged boy through the woods.

My dead leg was digging painfully into my thigh. But I couldn’t slow down. Any sudden change could alter the space we were in. Then, he stopped. He turned and looked at me. The gathering in his eyes had made a trail down off his chin. And then he spoke like it was a perfectly natural thing to do.

“I hate this world,” he said like a confession, “I can’t stand the smell. It seeps into the cabin like a poison. It’s dark. It’s this… world, this place,” he stumbled for new words like a child learning to talk.

I hadn’t realized how starved I’d been for Pa’s attention until he started speaking. I didn’t care what he was saying. I just didn’t want it to stop. And every word was like a bite of a warm meal that I knew I’d never get another chance to eat. It was only a coincidence it was worth listening to. I guess I started to cry a little at his puffed face of exhausted emotion.

As quickly as the strange rant came on, it left. And I remember in that moment where I thought a predictable character in Pa would take over, it didn’t. Something else entered the woods with us. A man I didn’t recognize. His face collapsed like loosened rope, and he kind of sunk to the ground below my shoes. Pa spoke with a voice that made all my scars tingle.

“But this is pure,” he scooped up black earth and pressed it to his puttering wet mouth.

I couldn’t tell if he was talking about the dirt or me, but I think it was the same thing.

“This is untouched. This,” he let it fall through his fingers. “What does that mean, boy?” He rested his hands to his knees and hung his head low like he knew he’d been a fool. “What does it mean to live in a pure and dark place? In a pure and dark world.”

But he wasn’t exactly asking. He pulled a tattered piece of cloth from his pocket and pressed it to his dripping face.

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