Thy Eternal Summer (5/15)

“But he is not always alone,” said Jack, his voice a little scratchy from talking at length. “When the long winter nights come on and the wolves follow their meat into the lower valleys, he may be seen running at the head of the pack through the pale moonlight or the glimmering borealis, leaping gigantic above his fellows, his great throat a-bellow as he sings a song of a younger world, which is the song of the pack.”1

Jack closed the book, and set it heavily on the table. He and Ava stared at it for a moment, processing. She knew dogs, of course. They were the little creatures some old people without children or with too many children kept around and had to walk and clean up its . Also, there were bigger versions of them, that worked on farms and herded wilder animals. Those versions would bite your neck out if you weren't careful, but people on farms were tough and knew how to fight so it was all right.2

But she had never envisioned dogs like this: huge, wild things, with instincts and feelings and minds of their own. They were kidnapped, tortured, enslaved... It made her wonder who was more of an animal—the dogs or the men? And what was more, she knew she was supposed to wonder this, yet she didn't feel controlled, manipulated. Programs—movies and WV shows and such—always had some hidden agenda, about obedience or the need for loyalty or the importance of sacrifice for the good of the community. But this book... it was simply there, a lump of reality in a haze of mist, and it told the truth as one man saw it.3

Jack sighed. “We've got so much catching up to do. How are we supposed to...” He stopped, at a loss for words, and gestured helplessly around them. “All this...”4

Ava nodded. “It's a lot.” She paused. “You know, Miss Prism said she didn't mind if we took stuff home...”5

Jack shook his head. “I love the idea, but if the government caught us reading old unedited versions of books... We'd be dead.”6

Ava nodded. Much as she hated it, and hated to admit it, he was right. There were no laws strictly against reading what you wanted, but there were all kinds of them about where. Government property, for example. Reading on government property was a federal offense; if you got caught, an adult would go to jail, and a kid would get some kind of serious detention.7

“Yeah,” she said. “Bet it would taste like licorice.”8

They laughed. Jack gestured at the book of Hemingway's stories, open to “Hills Like White Elephants.” “What was that man talking about? What was he on?”9

Ava laughed. “We could ask Miss Prism.”10

Jack shook his head. “We already made her explain “The Sisters” to us today, that was quite enough.”11

“I still don't get it,” Ava said.12

“I think that's the point,” said Jack.13

“Yeah,” Ava said, grinning. She looked back down at the Hemingway book. “You know, absinthe is a kind of drug... it's like alcohol and pot combined, or something. Do you think they're talking about quitting drugs?”14

“Well... said Jack, thinking. “They are drinking the whole time.”15

“Yeah... but maybe that's the point? They're talking about it like it's so easy, and yet it's really impossible?”16

“Or something...” said Jack. “Yeah, maybe.”17

“I don't know,” Ava said. She looked up, and jumped. “Miss Prism, you scared me.”18

The old woman smiled, which always seemed like an unnatural expression on her. “Sorry, dear. I know you don't want to bother me with your questions, but I just have one word for you: abortion.”19

She turned and walked away, back to the desk, a mysterious smile on her face.20

“I hate it when she does that,” Ava said.21

But Jack was already off, pulling out an old encyclopedia and blowing the dust off its cover. He scanned through it quickly, stopped, read a while. Then his face wrinkled in disgust. He handed the encyclopedia to Ava. “Middle of the page,” he said, trying and failing to keep the nausea out of his voice.22

She took it from him, and read. “Oh,” she said. “Wow.”23

Jack shook his head. “I think I remember this, actually. They described it very briefly—and much less graphically—in one of my health classes, a couple years ago. It used to be this huge debate, about whether it was right, and whether someone should get one, and stuff.” He looked at the story again, then pushed it across to her. “Read that last conversation again, and see if it makes more sense now.”24

She looked at it, read it carefully. “Yeah, I think it does.”25

Jack shook his head, grinning. “Thanks, Miss Prism,” he muttered. “Actually,” he said. “Miss Prism thinks we should do some philosophy.”26

Now Ava put her head in her hands. “I'm tired with reading about this life, to hell with figuring out how it works and why and where we come from and all that. That's practically religion.”27

“And what's wrong with religion?” Jack said, the sly grin on his face once again.28

Ava was shocked, enough that she ignored the fact that she should have thought about her answer before walking straight into Jack's verbal trap.29

“It's old and dead. It is the bane of humanity, one of the things that causes all our problems. It promotes hatred and destroys empires and kills people.”30

Jack said, in the exact same tone, as if he were her and simply continuing the sentence, “According to the same people who told you Sonnet Eighteen was four verses long and outlawed White Fang.”31

Ava opened her mouth, closed it again. “Damn,” she said.32

“Yeah,” said Jack. “That's about as far as I've gotten on that train of thought.”33

The next day it rained. The other students ran between the bus door and the school doors, but Ava and Jack walked, steadily, hand in hand. Ava savored the sensation of water beating against her shirt and her shirt against her skin. It was like a washing, a... what was that word? A benediction, given to her by Mother Nature. When she thought of it like that, she loved it.34

They separated after a quick kiss, and Ava went to the girls' lockers. She shook out her hair as best she could, and her shirt and brushed off her pants. She would be damp, probably all day, but she didn't mind that. It would be like... a present from an old friend—a necklace or bracelet, the kind of thing you weren't allowed to wear in school.35

“Ava!” said a voice behind her, as she got her math book out and closed her locker. Ava recognized the voice, but she couldn't place it. She turned around.36

It was Lydia, who had been her friend last year because they had all the same classes. They'd lost track over break, and had different classes now, and had never really gotten back together. Lydia was a pretty girl, with dark hair and blue eyes and a wide smile.37

“Lydia!” said Ava. She threw her arms around her and gave her a quick hug. It was slightly against regulations, but between two girls, no one was going to report it. “How are you?”38

Lydia's smile decreased by half, but it was still a smile. “I'm as good as I ever was.” Lydia's home life wasn't exactly perfect; the only difference between her and most of the other students was that she let it get to her. Her smile widened again. “I've got a boyfriend now!”39

Ava grinned. “That's awesome!” she said. Lydia had been wanting a boyfriend for... a long time now. “How did that happen?”40

Lydia shrugged. “As soon as I stopped wanting one, actually. It was kind of... weird.”41

Ava smiled. “That's great.”42

Lydia returned the smile. “Yeah, it is. But you! You're what I wanted to talk about.” She glanced at the clock. The other students were starting to clear the hallway. She paused, uncertain whether to start or move on.43

Ava looked at the clock too. “We've got five minutes. It only takes one minute to get anywhere around here. What were you saying?”44

“It's just... I mean, I always knew Jack made you happy. Everybody knows that. Everybody who sees you even, not just everybody who knows you. But I mean... lately you've just been... really happy. I don't know if everybody has noticed it, I notice subtle things, but... yeah.”45

“Well...” said Ava. She didn't know where to begin. “I...” she stopped. “What are you doing after school today?”46

“My... boyfriend and I hang out at his house and do homework, unless there's something special to do. Why?”47

“What street do you live on?”48

“Twelve hundred block. Why all the questions?” said Lydia. 49

That was on the other side of Main Street. “Hmm...” said Ava. She thought a minute. “Do you know where the traffic protector is, at the end of Main Street?”50

“Yeah,” said Lydia. “I think so.”51

“Meet us there,” said Ava. “After school.”52

“Can I bring my boyfriend?” Lydia asked.53

“Of course,” said Ava.54

“Okay,” said. Lydia. “You're not going to say any more, are you?”55

“No,” said Ava. “I'm not. I... can't.”56

“Okay,” said Lydia. “I trust you. I... always did.”57

“Yeah,” said Ava, smiling. “See you, sweetie.”58

“See you,” said Lydia.59

Ava told Jack the plan. He was uncertain, but he trusted her judgment. They met Lydia and her boyfriend, Chris, at the foot of the slope, and led them surreptitiously to the library. 60

They started them off with some sonnets, the easier ones. Lydia fell in love. Jack had to read “An Irish Airman” three times, but Chris finally admitted to intense admiration for it. Soon, Lydia was fascinated by the expeditions, and Chris, at least, went along for the ride.61

It grew late. Miss Prism wobbled her way over. “I'm afraid I'd better close up for the night, my dears,” she said.62

“Okay,” said Jack. “Do you mind if I read one more?”63

“No,” she said. “Do you mind if I listen?” She smiled. “I'll stand behind that book case, so I don't make you self conscious.”64

Jack grinned. “Okay.” He opened a poetry book, The Collected John Donne.65

“Death be not proud,” Jack read, slowly and clearly. “Though some have called thee Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so, For those whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow, Die not, poore death nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee, Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee doe goe, Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie. Thou are slave to Fate, Chance, kings and desperate men, And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesses dwell. And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well, And better then thy stroake. Why swell'st thou then; 66

“One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally, And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.”67

Jack looked up, and took a breath to steady himself. Silently, he put the book on the table (Miss Prism always said to leave them out, it was her pleasure to clean them up), and got up and headed for the door. The others followed, single file, behind him. Nobody said anything.68

And so another couple was added to their party. Chris was mainly along for Lydia's sake, but he appreciated some of it. Lydia, however, joined their delicious toiling with ecstasy and excitement. She was marvelous at seeing hidden meanings, looking up references, or just appreciating good stories.69

One afternoon, Jack was in the middle of a very dramatic reading of Rime of the Ancient Mariner (they had no idea what it meant, and were enjoying it vastly), when Miss Prism hurried over to them.70

“Shut up,” she said to Jack, more harshly than anybody there had ever heard her say anything. “Come with me, all four of you.”71

She hurried them behind the desk, opened a door which Jack had never noticed before because it blended into the wall save for a door knob. She hurried them into a small room (Jack caught a glimpse of crude wooden shelves lined with old, broken down books), and shut the door, leaving them in the dark.72

The librarian turned back to the desk, and began sorting books again when the door opened. Two large men stood blocking the door way for a moment, their shadows letting in minuscule portions of sunlight. They closed the door behind them, and moved underneath the dim dirty light bulbs so the librarian could see them clearly.73

They were tall, imposing men, dressed in suits and ties. The suits were black, and the ties white. They wore wide brimmed black hats. There was no reason for them to be dressed this way, thought the librarian. They could execute their tasks better in sports attire, they could conceal their weapons better...in trench coats, even. They were only dressed that way to intimidate. There was intimidation in the set of their faces, in their bearing, their long strides, their preternatural calm. They didn't smile, or frown, but simply wore blank faces. Their eyes moved a lot.74

They scanned the room, then moved to the counter. The librarian ignored them until the taller one, with dark hair, coughed. She looked up then. “Yes, gentlemen?” she said. “Can I help you?”75

The blond one, shorter, but only slightly, spoke. “We heard there were some students in here... possible truants. We wanted to know if you had seen them? If you knew where they were?”76

The librarian shook her head. “I'm sorry, I don't.” The blond government enforcement officer narrowed his eyes. “Some kids wandered in here earlier today,” said the librarian. “But they were just lost, and asked for directions, and left.”77

The blond officer narrowed his eyes more, gazing hard at the librarian. The two of them remained locked for several moments. The other officer leaned over and murmured, “Ah, dude, I think she's telling the truth.”78

The blond officer shook his head a bit, as if trying to clear it. “All right then. But if you do see them... you report it.”79

The librarian nodded, smiling at them. “Of course. I always do.”80

The taller of the officers snorted as he went out the door.81

Miss Prism opened the door to the back room again. She looked at the four students huddled in there, kids really. They were a little scared, a little confused. She opened her mouth to say something, closed it. Shook her head.82

“You kids...” she said. “You just... You be careful.”83

They went home then without speaking.84

The days wore on, and turned into weeks. The daylight grew less frequent, and the weather got colder. Sleeves grew longer, and body conditioning patches were put into use. The heat turned on at school, and testing became more intense. Then was winter break. 85

Jack and Ava—and Lydia, when she could get her boyfriend to agree—spent break in the library, exploring landscapes more fantastic and more intense than any they had ever known. Jack began to grow impressed with the small assortment of books they had read through—until he looked around, at the volumes upon volumes they had not gotten to yet. He sighed, and continued up the mountain. 86

On the first day back to school, Jack was feeling peculiarly light headed, which was a good feeling. He had finished reading, the night before, of how Elfland came to Erl, and the tears were wiped from the people's eyes, and mother reunited with son, husband with wife. Jack knew it would never happen, but the thought that it had, that somewhere such things were possible, was enough for him. 87

He sent Ava off with a kiss, and went to his locker. He keyed in the code, and it swung open. A slew of pamphlets dropped at his feet. Curious, he bent and picked one up. It bore a... a cross. He recognized it, from the artifacts he had given Cullman. Below it was the slogan, THE FISHES HAVE THE ANSWERS YOU'RE LOOKING FOR. Jack quickly gathered up the pamphlets and stuffed them in his locker and closed it. He keyed in the lock, realized he had one of them still clutched in his hand. He crumpled it, staring at its cover. Who could have...? Spock!88

Crumpling the paper harder, he marched quickly down the hallways and around several corners until he was standing in front of Spock's office. The guards looked at him in surprise. Jack met the eye of the fat bald one. “I have an appointment,” he said. The guard nodded, and swung the door open. Jack marched in, and the guard closed it behind him. 89

Dr. Spock looked up from behind his desk. His eyes widened and he sat up when he saw Jack. Jack didn't give him a chance to speak. He threw the crumpled pamphlet at him, shouting, “What is this?”90

Spock's eyes got even wider. He picked up the pamphlet and unfolded it. He opened his mouth to speak, but they heard pounding footsteps in the hallway outside. The door burst open, and a pair of men dressed in suits and jackets rushed into the room. They stopped, looking ready to pounce on any threat.91

The taller one, with dark hair, nodded to Dr. Spock. “Sir,” he said. “We're not sure why this young man came to you. But he has been caught with religious contraband.” He held up several pamphlets, indicating they had searched his locker. 92

The blond one glared at Jack. “This kind of thing is absolutely not tolerated. You may have to be corrected.”93

Jack's face remained impassive, but a great churning started in his gut. Everybody had heard of the correctional camps; there was never anything very definite, or at least very believably definite, but the rumors and whispers were bad enough. It was Hell, or Purgatory, the place to send society's sinners so that they might reform. And reform was never a painless process.94

Dr. Spock rose from his seat.95

“Those are my pamphlets,” he said.96

Jack stopped breathing. Everyone in the room turned to stare at Dr. Spock.97

The man bowed his head. “I hid them there last night, after hours. I was going to get them early this morning, but was delayed. I...” he turned to encompass both Jack and the government officials. “I'm sorry.”98

The two in suits were stunned into immobility for a moment. Dr. Spock met Jack's eye, and winked.99

The blond officer jerked into motion first. “Well,” he said. “We have a full confession. I suppose we'd better arrest him.” He took one arm, and the black haired officer took the other. “Walk of shame?”100

“There's little other choice,” said the black haired one. “Besides, it will be a good example to the students. How the mighty have fallen, or whatever that saying is.”101

“So I thought,” said the blond guard. They dragged Dr. Spock from the room.102

Jack went to his math class, and was docked ten points for being late.103

The school was awash with speculation for several days. The story got out, of course, far more quickly than any school assembly or mass mailing could have worked. The very school walls had ears. 104

But why? How? When? The questions nearly didn't come, things were so shocking. How could the trusted school psychiatrist, the voice of the party line—how could he of all people be a superstitionist? It nearly defied belief.105

And the pamphlets! Where had they come from? Were they really Dr. Spock's? Why were they in the locker? Was he going to a rally, were there more of these people nearby? And what would happen to Dr. Spock now? Would he go away to the correctional camps, would he be corrected? Could the government “big shots” still work their magic on a man his age?106

Meanwhile, the school officials heard of threats and received warnings. Dire ones. They worried and conferred and paced, rubbing their brows and spending many sleepless nights with that drug, caffeine. They wrote mails with more and more alarming headlines, and a few students and maybe half the students' parents read them and grew alarmed and alert and couldn't do anything about it. But the mass of the populace remained blissfully unaware, and blissfully unaware did they go about their daily dance routine.107

And somewhere towards the coasts the lights started to go off, and a continent began the slow nose dive into darkness.108

Jack arrived with Ava at the library that afternoon, and she had to go to the bathroom. As she left to walk to the government building and its public bathroom, Jack realized he was profoundly sad. He approached the counter, where Miss Prism looked up with her sad, old smile.109

“We are slaves, aren't we, Miss Prism?” Jack said.110

She was stacking several books, aligning their edges carefully. “Yes, my dear, we are,” she said.111

“So why don't we just end it?” he said.112

“Do you really want to know what lies beyond death?” she said, her eyes still on the books.113

Jack was about to say “no”, but instead he said, “I'm a little curious, actually.”114

One corner of her mouth folded upward. “Curious enough to pull the trigger, to jump from the building, to leap in front of the speeding truck?”115

Jack sighed. “No,” he said.116

She looked up, met his eyes. Hers were like the moon—they were so old, and had seen so much. “I thought so,” she said. She reached under the desk. “Here, darling. Read this. Start there.”117

It was an old, thick book, with thin pages. Jack didn't want to close it, to discover what book it actually was. He went to the table in the back corner, sat down, and began to read. He read aloud, because there was nothing else he could do.118

“The words of the preacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem. Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity. What profit hath a man of all his labor which he taketh under the sun? One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth forever. The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose...” 119

Ava came in at some point. He was first aware of her as he ended the chapter: “...And I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to know madness and folly: I percieved that this also is vexation of spirit. For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.”120

Jack stopped then, and the shaking in his voice broke and he bowed his face onto the old Book and cried. Ava curled her fingers into his hair and gripped, hard.