Sunday, October 31, 2010

The Book of Sarah

It's me, Bob. They think I'm stupid, because I don't say much. But I am not stupid. It's better to keep quiet and listen. You learn more that way and you don't get into trouble. But I am afraid. I don't want to be destroyed. I'm the youngest of the crew and there's a lot I want to experience and see. I think I'm beginning to remember things. I can see lots of grass and fields. There are mountains or high hills that are almost mountains in the distance. So I guess I was born in the country or at least in a little town out in the country. There might have been a farm. I don't know if it was my parents' place or my grandparents' place. Sometimes we went to a Dairy Queen for ice cream and hot dogs. Boy, did I love human food. And now I love humans for food. But I'm not some kind of ghoul or cannibal. I do like Tomas and the others. Everyone I ever had came to me in a vision. I can't remember how I got this way. I don't know who did it, or if I was a volunteer or a draftee. When did it happen? Not sure, but some of the cars I visualize are mid sixties models. One was a dark burgundy, Pontiac G.T.O., a convertible with tan leather seats. A classic. You know the model.  So if I was translated in the mid sixties and if I was about forty two years old at the time, that means I was born some time around nineteen twenty three. That would make me about eighty five in human years and lets see...   approximately five hundred and ninety five years old in dog years. I wonder how old Annie's dogs are? Did she round them up here in town, or do some of them come from somewhere else? And what are they, some kind of vampire animal or monster animal or zombie or what? I'm really scared. I don't want to end before I remember my name. I used to think I was born in Europe. I don't know. I guess it was because of all the uhmp-pah music. Oh...  Oh... No, I see it. I see it. It wasn't Europe. It was in Pennsylvania, somewhere in central Pennsylvania. I see the road sign. I see it. It says State College (where Penn state is... beautiful town... beautiful campus) twenty six miles.  But that's it. I can't see any more. I'm cold. Sure, I know that the cold can't do me any harm. It's just a sensation  But it hurts. It cuts. It makes me feel dead. And I can't even shiver to warm up a little. We don't shiver. We don't have to. The mole people offered me one of their prisoners. I told them it was OK and that I could wait. I guess that made the guy they were gonna feed me happy too. Yeah, he is a bad piece of shit. But even bad pieces of shit probably don't want to die. Especially the very worst pieces.  His name is Howard. I know. I asked him. We shook hands. He said - Pleased to meet you. But that was probably just some kind of social reflex. I don't think he really meant it. It's a shame. I mean the guy looked so scared. He crawled back to his blanket and put his head back through that collar so fast. It probably felt like home-sweet-home to him. Imagine, living a life like that. I gotta do something to take my mind off things. Excuse me, but I think I'm gonna go over and join some mole kids in a game of Yahtzee. Wish me luck.

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