The God in Flight by Laura Argiri

Author:Laura Argiri [Argiri, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 1590216113
Publisher: Lethe Press
Published: 2016-11-15T05:00:00+00:00

Still, even when the hole had been opened in the earth and the rough men hired to dig it began to lower the box down on ropes, Simion had his nerves in control. His own conscience felt fine about doing what Lincoln wanted. At the hothouse, he had selected for the grave an armload of lush flowers—white lilacs, white roses, white lilies, orchids barely lavender, and a pale mist of ferns. He chose white because of Lincoln’s love of snow and winter and allegiance to the gods of boreal cold despite the wear and tear they inflicted upon him, and because of the secrets he knew. “Virgin and martyr,” he’d thought. He’d spent unstintingly on these flowers. He held them lightly in his arms as the box was lowered into the hole; standing between Doriskos and Andrew, he displayed the composure that Lincoln would have wanted of him. “I’ll be fine,” he thought, “if no one insists on talking to me much, or making me say more than thank you.”

However, it would not be that easy. Apparently Dr. Porter did not regard the subject of Lincoln’s funeral arrangements as a closed one, for now he moved to Simion’s side and put his bony hand on his shoulder.

“My boy,” he said, with tears in his eyes, “will you not reconsider your earlier decision?”

“Please, not this again,” said Simion.

“Before it is too late,” Porter persevered.

“It was too late for him when he was seven years old and the tuberculosis bacillus made itself at home in his lungs. Too late is long past! If I were to let you change my plans, does it occur to you, I’d be doing it for you—who didn’t lead his life, or suffer what he suffered, or do what he did for me! And he faced what he had to face with a clear head, alone, with none of these religious…consolations!”

“That was his choice,” said Porter urgently, probably ready to postulate some pathological state of mind to invalidate that choice.

“Yes—exactly! That was his choice, and this is his choice!”

Doriskos did Simion the vast favor of interposing.

“Please, Dr. Porter,” said Doriskos, “we need to do it as we’ve got it planned out. The boy is very distressed and has been very unwell of late, and it’s best that he get home as soon as possible.”

Porter opened his helpless hands and backed off, but it was an ugly moment. If Moses Karseth had been there, he would have favored Doriskos with a blistering glare for treating Simion like his wife in public. The dignitaries who were there didn’t interpret that shielding gesture in its true context, but they knew it as something extraordinary, something alien. They disapproved of the gesture and at the same time responded to it; thus responding, they and Porter resigned their resistance.

So Lincoln had his way, and Simion the disapproval of the pious elderly men. He felt himself trembling as he watched the shovelfuls of damp earth fall. The gentlemen looked as grieved, he thought,

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