Noir

SEVEN

THE ENTIRE ECONOMY OF THE DEAD

Tell me a story,” said the professional child.

The man sitting by himself-in fact, the only other person on the train-looked up. It seemed to take a little while for him to focus on her, as though there was something wrong with his eyes.

“All right,” said the man after a moment. “How about a Bible story?”

“That’d be fine.” The professional child flounced the ruffly skirt of her party dress over her bare, red-chapped knees. She dangled her shiny black Mary Janes above the train’s littered floor as she sat in the seat next to him. “Whatever you like.” The man looked lonely and a little sad. He needs, the professional child thought, what I have. “Go ahead.”

This is the story he told her.

“‘¹AND IT CAME TO PASS,’” he said, “‘AS THEY JOURNEYED FROM THE EAST, THAT THEY FOUND A PLAIN IN THE LAND OF CALIFORNIA, AND THEY DWELT THERE.

“‘²AND THEY CALLED IT THE LAND OF ORANGES, BECAUSE THAT FRUIT WAS OF PLENTITUDE THERE, AND FREE FOR THE PLUCKING AND EATING.’”

“You’re making this up,” said the professional child.

The man shook his head. “It’s all true. ‘³AND SO PLENTEOUS WAS THE GOLDEN FRUIT, AND SO DIZZYING THE GOLDEN SUNSHINE, THAT THE PEOPLE SAID, “WHY SHOULDST NOT ALL THINGS BE AS FREE AS THESE? ESPECIALLY TO US, WHO ARE SO DESERVING. WHY SHOULDST WE PAY FOR THAT WHICH WE WANT?”’”

“You’re right.” The child scowled darkly; she’d been stiffed a couple of times in her career. “People always say that.”

“‘⁴SO THE PEOPLE OF THE LAND OF ORANGES SENT OUT TO THE PEOPLES OF ALL THE OTHER LANDS, AND SAID UNTO THEM, “GIVE US THAT WHICH WE WANT, AND PUT IT ON OUR TAB.”

“‘⁵THEY SAID, “GIVE US, AND YOU SHALL HAVE OUR SACRED PROMISE THAT WE WILL PAY FOR ALL THESE THINGS. YOU CAN TRUST US.”’”

“Yeah, sure,” said the professional child.

“‘⁶AND SOON,’” continued the man on the train, “‘THE PEOPLE OF THE LAND OF ORANGES HAD PARKS AND LARGE HOUSES, WITH GARAGES OF MANY DOORS; AND THEY HAD BOAT HARBORS AND MULTILANE FREEWAYS AND FIBER-OPTIC CABLES ROOTED THROUGH THE EARTH, SO THAT THEY MIGHT CONVERSE WITH EACH OTHER AND ORDER MORE THINGS FROM ON-LINE CATALOGS.

“‘⁷AND THEY BUILT WALLS AROUND THEIR HOUSES, AND GATES WITH TWENTY-FOUR-HOUR MANNED SECURITY, SO THAT THEY MIGHT NOT HAVE TO SEE ANYONE OTHER THAN THEMSELVES. AND THEY DID LOOK AT EACH OTHER, AND SMIRKED AND SAID, “ARE WE NOT EXCEEDINGLY FINE IN OUR EYES AND GOD’S EYES?”’”

“Then what happened?”

“‘⁸AND THEN THE PEOPLES OF THE OTHER LANDS CAME TO THE PEOPLE OF THE LAND OF ORANGES, AND THEY DIDST HAVE THE BILL IN THEIR HANDS, FOR ALL THE PARKS AND THE FINE BIG HOUSES AND THE BOAT HARBORS AND THE BOATS THEREIN.

“‘⁹AND THE PEOPLE OF THE OTHER LANDS DIDST SAY, “THIS IS HOW MUCH YOU OWE, AND THIS IS WHEN YOU SAID YOU’D PAY UP.”

“‘¹⁰AND THE PEOPLE OF THE LAND OF ORANGES DIDST QUAKE BEHIND THEIR GATED WALLS, AND GREW ANGRY, NOT BECAUSE THEY COULD NOT PAY BUT BECAUSE THEY DID NOT WANT TO PAY.’” The man slowly shook his head, playacting a storyteller’s weary disgust.

“‘¹¹AND THE PEOPLE OF THE LAND OF ORANGES SAID TO THE PEOPLE OF THE OTHER LANDS, “WE WILL NOT PAY. WHY SHOULDST WE? WE ARE TOO FINE AND NOBLE AND TOO CONNECTING WONDERFUL TO HAVE TO PAY A BILL LIKE THAT. YOU CANST TAKE YOUR BILL AND SHOVE IT.”’”

The professional child’s brow creased. “Bastards.”

“‘¹²AND THE PEOPLE OF THE OTHER LANDS, WHO’D PAID FOR ALL THE PARKS AND HOUSES AND BOAT HARBORS, VERY CALMLY SAID, “ALL RIGHT. HAVE IT YOUR WAY. BUT THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES.”

“‘¹³AND THE PEOPLE OF THE LAND OF ORANGES LOOKED AT EACH OTHER AND SMIRKED SOME MORE, AND SAID, “WHAT CONSEQUENCES CAN WE POSSIBLY SUFFER? FOR IS NOT OUR GOD A GOD OF GREED, AND ARE WE NOT HIS CHILDREN? HE’LL LOOK OUT FOR US.” AND THEY DIDST WIPE THEIR ASSES WITH THEIR BONDS OF THEIR SACRED PROMISES.’”

“Yeah,” said the professional child, “I think I know the people you’re talking about.”

The man waited a moment before continuing, in a lower, spookier voice. “‘¹⁴BUT THE SKIES DIDST DARKEN OVER THE LAND OF ORANGES, AND THE EARTH GREW SOUR AND DIED, SENDING FORTH ONLY DEAD THINGS.

“‘¹⁵AND THE TIDES CEASED TO ROLL IN THE HARBORS, AND THE SHIT AND WASTE FROM THE SEWERS MIRED THE BOATS AMIDST THE DEAD AND ROTTING FISH.

“‘¹⁶AND THE GATES RUSTED AND FROZE IN THE WALLS AROUND THE FINE HOUSES, SEALING IN THE PEOPLE OF THE LAND OF ORANGES. WHICH WAS NO GREAT LOSS, FOR BY THEN THEY HAD BECOME DEAD THINGS, LIVING-SORT OF-IN A DEAD PLACE.

“‘¹⁷AND THE PEOPLE OF THE OTHER LANDS DIDST SAY TO ONE ANOTHER, “THAT’S HOW IT GOES. THEY BROUGHT IT ON THEMSELVES. WHEN YOU DON’T PAY, YOU CAN’T PLAY.”

“‘¹⁸AND THE PEOPLE OF THE OTHER LANDS HAD DEAD OF THEIR OWN AMONGST THEM, AND THEY DIDST SAY, “NOW WE HAVE SOMEPLACE TO SEND THEM.”

“‘¹⁹AND SO THEY DID.’”

The man fell silent, eyes closed, head tilted back.

“Is that it?”

Raising one eyelid, the man glanced over at the professional child, then nodded.

“Well,” she said, “it’s not a great story. And I don’t think it’s really from the Bible. Is it?”

The man shrugged. “Depends upon whose Bible you’re talking about.”

“But it must mean something important to you, huh? Or otherwise you wouldn’t have told it to me.”

“That’s true, at least.”

“So?” The professional child smoothed her frilly skirt above her knees, and waited.

He didn’t need any more prompting than that. The man shifted in the seat, reaching into the back pocket of his trousers for his wallet.

This sucks, thought McNihil as he gazed out the train’s window. I would rather in heaven be. That just didn’t seem to be an option these days.

Having that conversation with the Bishop of North America (and Central America by Proxy) must have put him in a religious frame of mind. So that making up Bible stories came easily. The little bit of time spent storytelling just now with the professional child had been marginally satisfying, in a melancholy way. McNihil and his wife, when she’d been alive, had never put in for a childbearing license, and now it was too late. Her ova had been harvested long ago and sold to pay off some tiny fraction of her debt load. So for him, a bit of child exposure, even from one whose eyes had been as ancient and cold as a DynaZauber exec’s, had been worth it.

“‘²⁰AND INTO THAT LAND-’” McNihil murmured another piece of the story to himself; there was no one to overhear him in the train. “‘TO CONVERSE WITH THE DEAD, THAT HE MIGHT LEARN OF THEM THAT WHICH WOULD BE TO HIS PROFIT, NAY, SURVIVAL; TO THAT REGION OF THE DEAD CAME A STILL-LIVING MAN, WHO HAD COME THERE BEFORE MANY TIMES ON SIMILAR ERRANDS. BUT IN THIS TIME, THE LIVING MAN’S THOUGHTS WERE OF RELUCTANT NATURE. SO THAT HE DID SAY TO HIMSELF, “CHRIST AL- CONNECTING-MIGHTY, I DON’T WANT TO BE DOING THIS…”’”