The Last of the Just by Andre Schwarz Bart

Author:Andre Schwarz Bart [SCHWARZ BART, ANDRE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781590209127
Publisher: The Overlook Press
Published: 2011-10-01T00:00:00+00:00

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JUST BEYOND the bridge over the Schlosse, Ernie tripped against a rock, stretched out his arms and closed his eyes, realized that his body was lying in the grass of a ditch beside the road. It seemed to him that the darkness outside and the night within himself were one. Turning over onto his stomach he opened his mouth wide and let his last tears flow, for it was obvious to him that he would never catch his breath again nor would this vast rolling motion of earth and sky ever cease, though his arms, spread wide like oars, were trying to slow it down. He had run too fast, and perhaps he was going to die.

“So, are you all right like that, Ernie? all right like that?”

“Well, Ernie?” he went on aloud.

There was a moist rustling against his palate. Round and light, transparent as bubbles, the words came out of his mouth and flew off toward the moon, arousing in him nothing more than a feeling of dazzled surprise.

Concentrating hard, he tried a different phrase. “Hey, Ernie!” he murmured in some delight.

And immediately the person hailed turned and addressed to him an obsequious salute. “What? What do you want?”

Rising carefully to his elbows, he knelt, sat down and raised his knees, circling them with his arms. It all happened as if two little men were chatting inside his head, like two gossips over a cup of tea. He thought again, “Hey, Ernie …” But a third Ernie appeared, hopping up on a finger, and all was confusion.

He heard a gust in the distance, and the squalling wind whipped the treetops like a wave. On the ground, dead leaves fluttered. Beyond the meadows the waters of the Schlosse lapped against the little stone bridge.

The wind fell as quickly as it had risen, and the countryside became silent again. Motionless, the moon waited. Far off at the end of the road, dim lights flickered alive, not at all menacing. On the contrary, they winked timidly, set out like a row of candles against the deep line of the horizon; they gave off a whispering sound. It was Stillenstadt.

“That dirty child!”

Mother Judith’s face was truly like an old cat’s face. She had arched her fingers like claws, and her imposing body, leaning forward slightly, seemed prepared to pounce. Choking back a sob, Ernie turned away from the town and took up his travels again. Later on, after many years he would return to Stillenstadt. He would know a great number of words, and the whole world would weep to hear the Just Man. Mother Judith’s heart would open. There would be the yellow tablecloth with the great seven-branched candelabrum. And there would be …

Ernie had been walking for so long that he could not be far from a great city. The green wheat he had nibbled at in his hunger was stuck in his throat. When sweat began to run down his feverish body, he tucked his bad arm into the opening of his shirt as into a sling.

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