How the Stars did Fall (27 page)

“What’s the matter?” Daniel asked.

The Good Man only gestured for Daniel to go forth and see for himself, and Daniel moved past the open gate and into the fort and found it abandoned. Not a living soul in sight barring a few maimed soldiers limping here and there.

“They’ve abandoned the battlefield?” Daniel asked.

“It appears so. Or someone forced them to retreat.”

“Seems unlikely. This does not bode well.”

“No, it doesn’t. Could mean they’ve been reinforced and are circling our position in order to flank us.”

“Unless we made them retreat. Perhaps we overestimated Fillmore.”

“Unlikely. It is certainly not a move I would make.”

“Nor I. No reason to when you can hide behind these walls.”

“In any case, we’ll occupy the fort tonight and let the scouts figure out where Fillmore’s army is.”

They entered the fort together along with a portion of the Good Man’s most able men, leaving the bulk of the force to camp out in the fields. Inside, they found all manner of supply and equipment left behind untouched as if they were no longer needed, and they found sick and maimed soldiers inside the buildings, some still alive and hiding and others long since passed, having bled out or died of thirst or hunger. The Good Man had those still alive brought out, lined up against the wall of the fort and executed one by one.

Once the executions had ceased, a different troop of soldiers came and carried the bodies away. These soldiers placed the bodies in a single mound just outside the fort, and taking shovels, they spent the rest of the day and much of the night digging one giant grave of a depth and width that would fit all of the dead. Then they threw the bodies in, several at a time, swinging them into the pit by the legs and arms like sacks of wheat or barley, their flesh already rotting, the smell unbearable.

During that time, the Good Man found colonel Fillmore’s stock of whiskey and had by now drained several bottles with Daniel and the other officers while the moon hung high above them like a reluctant witness to the acts of men as she traversed the curvature of the cosmos. It was to the moon that the Good Man made his first toast, extolling her many virtues to those who followed The Way—for, as he explained it, her position in the sky had a profound influence on the glands. There was an unbreakable and invisible string connecting us to that body above and no vision could be imparted even to the Good Man himself without authorization from up there.

As the drinking continued, the men fell deeper into their stupors and the Good Man stood among them as the chief of all drunks, his frock coat soiled by his slobbering, for the drink had affected his coordination and often he would begin to speak before he had fully swallowed and out the liquid would come like weeping tears. And as he spoke all fell silent.

“Of all the cities in the world it was in San Francisco that I was sent to bring The Way. Not a coincidence, that. Providence has a way of finding its way to the right people. So we sit here in mirth and tranquility not because we have won today, but because we won yesterday and we will win tomorrow and the day after that like conquering gods.”

Hearing this, everyone cheered, the men stamping their glasses upon the tables and their feet upon the floor. Daniel joined in somewhat reluctantly, his lukewarm enthusiasm disguised by the drunken throng. The Good Man laughed along with these outbursts, great pleasure evident in his manner, and Daniel thought he detected something sexual about the Good Man’s control over the men, not at all overt but there.

That night after all of the whiskey had been consumed and the Good Man retired to the colonel’s cabin, young boys were brought in under cover of darkness, roped together and hooded. Daniel stood watch when they came in. He allowed the gate of the fort to be opened so that they could enter. Some part of him felt guilty, condemned even, for not stopping them right there. But he soon rationalized that guilt away by telling himself that if he did not do it someone else would.

But another thought countered that one as Daniel watched the boys ushered into the cabin and then ushered out, sans one of their number, back to the camp set up only for them outside the walls. What if that one boy that had been him? Or his brother? What would he do then?

Now Daniel strode atop the walls of the fort, stopping here and there to inspect and salute the watchmen, until at the northern side of the wall he saw something like a moving shadow in the periphery of his vision. It had wide wings, wider than those of any bird Daniel had ever known to exist, green skin like a serpent and two heads—one like a man’s, the other beastly, like the progeny of a bear and a lion. It fell upon the wall of the fort with terrible speed and Daniel stumbled backwards, discovering that whatever it was, it did not actually have two heads, but that a man rode upon it.

Even in that darkness, Daniel could recognize his brother’s face.

“Brother,” Faraday said as he reached down to help Daniel up.

But Daniel could not stop looking at the winged monster and Adler, noticing this, changed his shape, taking again the form of a man.

“We haven’t much time, Daniel. On the way here, we flew over an army of some five thousand men headed this way. You must surrender.”

“Surrender? I’m not surrendering to anyone. Besides, I’m not in command here.”

“This is what he wants. For you to fight each other, one faction weakening the other, so that he may bring order out of the chaos.”

“Who is he?”

“Just take my hand, Daniel.”

Daniel finally took his brother’s hand but before he could prop himself up, a wave of nausea afflicted him and he found himself transported into another plane, another body. Looking down, Daniel saw that he now had small hands, like a child’s, and stood no more than four feet off the ground. And he felt his consciousness slowly diminish, as if the body of a child demanded the mind of a child. This change more than anything caused Daniel to panic as he, in silence, desperately tried to hold on to his memories, his strength of mind and spirit, his fearlessness and every other inward virtue which separated men from boys. But despite his struggle he could not keep these things inside of himself; he could only spectate as they flowed out of his grasp. Then Faraday appeared in front of him, floating and translucent like some guiding spirit, and by focusing on this otherworldly figure Daniel found he could stall the evacuation of his identity. His brother’s ghost did not speak but it did move, and Daniel followed.

It brought Daniel to an outhouse in the middle of a field that looked from the outside abandoned, for all the windows were shuttered and the door was latched. But as Daniel reached the door he heard a ruckus inside. Laughter and loud talk escaped here and there through thin openings in the wood. The door itself came open as soon as he approached it and he saw that a circle had been carved out high above his head where an adult could look through and take a measure of those wanting to get in. The outhouse was actually a disguised bordello, and the bar was filled with men drinking and women in various states of undress. Already diminished in mind and spirit, Daniel looked upon the whores in their corsets and the drunks the women openly serviced not as a man would have, but as a boy would, knowing in a deep part of his soul that he did not belong there yet, but thinking that perhaps a peek here and there would not hurt. Now the guardian at the door stopped Daniel before he could proceed further into the outhouse.

“Wait a minute, boy,” he said. “Lionel! This one yours?”

As he heard his name, Lionel lifted himself reluctantly up from his chair, dismissing the whore in his lap and pouting like some petulant child forced to stop playing in order to attend to some boring piece of business.

“Yeah, this one is mine. Come on, Daniel.”

“My name is Daniel.”

“That’s right. Come on, Daniel. I thought I told you to be here one hour ago?”

“My pa wouldn’t let me out until I finished my chores.”

“Nobody likes excuses, boy. Now sit over there. I told you I would make a man out of you.”

Even diminished as he was, Daniel still held on to some of his true self and he remembered this man. His crooked fingers and poor posture, his already balding head— yes, it was the Good Man. Younger, but him. Then a waitress approached their table, wearing about the same outfit the whores were wearing except for a little white apron hanging from her neck.

“You want some milk?” the Good Man asked.

“Yeah, I’ll take some milk.”

“Bring him some milk, but Lacy, bring the good milk. You’re gonna like the milk here, boy.”

“I’m not a boy,” Daniel said.

“By the end of the night you sure as hell won’t be.”

While Daniel waited for his milk, the whore that had been sitting on Lionel’s lap returned to take her place, sitting with her back to Daniel, leaning into Lionel’s ear and whispering and giggling. Then Lionel said something back to her and she got up and began to dance sensuously right in front of Daniel.

“Watch this,” Lionel said.

She danced for Daniel. Her face was not beautiful but her body was well proportioned and she moved with some grace, and while she danced Daniel felt at the same time elevated and further diminished. A nasty paradox. The Good Man took a handful of pennies and threw them at the whore’s feet while she danced. As if by command, she turned her posterior towards Daniel’s face and lowered her drawers for a brief second before covering herself back up. Lionel cheered at this and slapped Daniel upon the back.

“Did you see it?” Lionel asked.

“I think I did,” Daniel said. He was smiling.

“Cherish this moment, boy. For one day those things which once brought us pleasure may become what brings us the most pain. In life, as in death, nothing can be known. Only felt out like a blind man moving about, his arms extended, his hands seeking out a post upon which to moor himself.”

This talk astounded Daniel. Even a boy’s understanding could not help but be interested in the mystery of death. So Daniel thought about death for a moment as one thinks about a guest whose appearance has been expected for a long time. And when his attention returned to the spectacle before him, Daniel found that the whore looked quite a bit better in his estimation and the music sounded sweeter, and when the waitress delivered his milk he tipped it back at once, taking nearly all of it in.

“That milk tastes funny,” he said, raising his voice, because the band had begun a loud chorus of a song well known to the tradesmen of the region.

“Isn’t it grand? Drink some more.”

And Daniel did, taking the last few droplets from the cup and pointing out the empty vessel to the waitress, who promptly brought him another portion, this one stronger still, the alcohol pungent and burning. Daniel felt compelled to be bolder, to set aside all self-consciousness, and the first thing he did was extend his arm and touch the dancing whore on her buttocks. Even while emboldened by the alcohol, Daniel expected a backlash. A scolding or perhaps even a slap. Yet the woman did nothing to discourage him and, in fact, pushed herself closer to the boy, thereby making it easier for him to feel her out.

All of this Lionel observed and Daniel, detecting some hint of malice in the man’s eyes, withdrew his hand, letting it rest once again on the cool glass of milk.

“You ready to have some real fun, boy?” Lionel said.

Daniel’s interest was piqued at the words. Did he mean to allow him access to this woman? Drinking the last of his second glass of milk, Daniel stood, taking hold of his belt buckle in a faux-adult pose, and said he was most definitely ready. That he wanted nothing else but to have more fun.

The woman was not so receptive to the idea. In fact, her reaction was opposite Daniel’s as she quickly took the seat Daniel had vacated and propped her head onto her palms, her fingers covering her mouth, as if she had just seen some sick horror.

“Leave the boy be, Lionel,” she said.

“Shut your mouth, woman,” Lionel said back to her. Then to the boy: “Come, let’s go up there. That’s where the real fun happens.”

Daniel hesitated for a moment while Lionel walked away from the table towards the stairs. The whore held his little arm with one of her hands, and bending down she looked at his eyes and Daniel saw that she had begun to weep. Only a few whimpers escaped from her mouth as if something held her tongue and then her eyes darted forward and, seeing Lionel ahead, she let go, running back to the bar.

If her intention had been to cause some trepidation in Daniel, then she had succeeded, for even now he held himself back, unsure about following Lionel up the stairs. The alcohol now worked against Lionel, for it heightened Daniel’s awareness in a way, distorting shadows into monsters. But Lionel, in his cunning, devised another plan and before long a different whore appeared before Daniel. This one spoke to the boy in whispers and smiled and touched his hand and soon had him climbing the stairs one step at a time. While he climbed, Daniel paused as he saw the ruggedness of the handrail. It was as if someone had hacked at it with a little knife all throughout its length, drawing shallow triangles and squares and hexagons upon it. These shapes jogged some deep memory of Daniel’s loose, for just as he reached the top of the stairs his mouth came agape and he would not move no matter how insistent the whore in front of him was, no matter her explicit promises. Until, that is, she brought out a knife from her corset and let him feel its pointed tip against his back. Now threatened in this way he began to move forward and into the one of the rooms, where the windows had been shuttered and candles lit. But by some mercy, the vision faded then and in an instant Daniel returned to the present, a lingering dread the only vestige of the world he had just left behind.

“What malice was that? Is this your doing, brother? Have you taken up sorcery while on your long sojourn?”

“It is no sorcery. Tell him, Adler.”

Now the green man took a few steps towards Daniel and as he did so his whole figure enlarged like some approaching shadow, and when he spoke his voice was at once loud and quiet as if he could funnel the sound to where he wished it to go and keep it from those whom he wished to avoid.