Part 3

“Why did you come?”

“Because you asked me to.”

“I thought you wanted to better this. You said you wanted to mend it, to return, to restore us. That’s what you said you wanted to do.” Her eyes tightened as she waited for the answer.

“I can’t. I don’t know how to fix it. I’ll never have what you crave. Young women don’t stay with penniless men.”

“I’ll stay. I promised I would. You promised to try.”

“I don’t want to risk it anymore. If you leave me, what will I do? Yes, I’m a shamed man. I haven’t made any decisions in years. I waited turns, everybody’s turn – your turn, your sisters’ turn, your bird-witch aunt’s turn, and she dwells all the way across that cursed horizon in Europe. I’m the last on anyone’s mind.” Emile’s arms flew apart in anger. “I yielded and waited because I believed I had a turn. But people – my family, your family, everyone – already lined up for a second helping without ever feeding me. It’s everybody’s turn again. I refuse. I can’t sit in the center of this centrifuge again. I can’t be a lynchpin that carries all and gets nothing in return. I’ve lost track of myself. I want out. I’ve decided. Now. Right now. I’ve made the decision. Maybe it’s foolish…”

“…It is foolish,” wailed Hellen, and tears scraped her face.

“…it’s foolish, so I need to live with the foolishness. It must be foolish, because it’s the first in a long time. I forgot how to decide. Damn me for this; I’m not scared. I lived in hell until a month ago. I’ve sent you away, and now I’m alone, and I live on the scraps that were left to me, but they are my scraps.”

As he talked, he sensed God had spread iron shield over the skies above the world. The iron swell over Emile’s body. The cosmic disc approached his mortal chest, crushed his tender soul, and infused God’s plan for hate. Emile nursed Alpha-and-Omega’s plague in his Judas’s innards. He carried no silver. They deserved crucifixion and he built the crosses.

Silence spread between them. Grey buildings expelled smiling people fed with good coffee, chocolate cookies, and ham sandwiches. He heard chewing behind the glass windows. His stomach growled and his rage rose.

Hands in pockets, Hellen’s head sunk, slanted between the grey shoulders of the heavy guilt-coat. Behind Hellen, behind the iron sky, the red sun dived between the black obelisks and stared directly into Emile’s eyes. Hellen stood in the center of the city. She sobbed and gasped for air as people dressed in space-age materials passed. Her black silhouette stood like an ancient statue, the footless Venus buried in the black soil to fertilize the world. Emile stepped closer and hid her face from the shame of glances falling from strangers’ eyes. He closed his eyes and held the harsh sun out.