The Savage Boy

52



HE REMEMBERED LATER.

Later that afternoon. He remembered screaming. Running toward . . . and screaming.

Why wasn’t I on Horse?

He couldn’t imagine himself running.

He sat in the shadow of a dune. Dense fog had run across the bay and into the dunes. The dunes just like where they stayed that night after the village . . .

He remembered the sound of the rope. He remembered the villagers coming out. They were crying too. He screamed at them . . . like an animal. Like the bear. Like the lion.

They were crying like children.

They lay down in the street and wept, begging him for forgiveness in a language he didn’t understand. Begging him to let them grieve for this horrible thing that had been done.

How can I ever sleep again?

It wasn’t her anymore.

She was stiff and cold.

He held her, hearing the sound of his pain as if from far away.

Knowing it was he who made that sound.

Knowing that Sergeant Presley could not help him anymore.

Knowing that the world was cruel and made of stone.

Her grave was beneath the sand and the sea grass.

He watched the grave, and what was once the cold of a foggy afternoon and wan sunlight became night and fog.

He watched.

He watched.

He watched.

Who am I now?

HE DIDN’T SLEEP.

Revenge.

He saddled Horse and thought of his revenge.

Don’t do this, Boy!

Why?

He hears the creak of the rope that . . .

That . . .

The “who” of his revenge was easier to think about than the “why.” The “why” was too painful. Much too painful.

He saw the face of the leader who came to take her. He was the “who” of his revenge. The object of his revenge.

And in fact . . .

He saw Sausalito. Their little walled city. Their wall.

All of them behind that wall, they were the “who” . . .

Of his revenge.

This is how everything went wrong, Boy. Don’t you see? Revenge. Hatred. Fire. Boy, there is no good end to this.

Revenge.

He left the fire burning near her grave.

HE RODE UP through the sea grass to the old western road. The One.

He could see her fire burning in the fog.

Let it burn forever.

In the east the sky was light and the fog was turning white.

This ain’t a way to go, Boy. Forget this and live. Live. That’s all you got to do in this world now. Keep on livin’ until humanity gets a chance to start again. You do this and you’ll set it back. Hell, you might even break it altogether. The world can’t take much more.

Revenge.

He turned and the fire near her grave was gone, swallowed. Lost to the fog.

Who am I now?

Revenge.