The Genocides

Soon it was more painful to think than anything else, even than having his leg moved. He was no more able to stop or diminish this pain than those that had preceded it. He lay there, while the three women came and went—the old woman, the girl and the very old woman—thinking.

The girl talked to him.

“Hello,” she said, “how are you feeling today? Can you eat this? You can’t eat anything if you won’t open your mouth. Won’t you open your mouth? Just a little? Like that—that’s fine. Your name’s Orville, isn’t it? My name’s Blossom. Alice told us all about you. You’re a mining engineer. It must be very interesting. I’ve been in a cave, but I’ve never seen a mine. Unless you call the iron pits mines. They’re just holes, though. Open a little wider, that’s better. In fact, that’s why Daddy—” She stopped. “I shouldn’t talk so much though. When you’re better, we can have long talks.”

“That’s why what?” he asked. It was more painful to talk than to eat.

“That’s why Daddy said to… said not to… I mean, both you and Miss Nemerov are alive, but we had to…”

“Kill.”

“Yes, we had to, all the rest.”

“The women too?”

“But you see, we had to. Daddy explains it better than I do, but if we didn’t do that, then the others would come back, a lot of them together, and they’re very hungry, and we don’t have enough food, even for ourselves. The winter is so cold. You can understand that, can’t you?”

He didn’t say anything more for some days.

It was as though, all that time, he had lived only for Jackie, and with her gone he no longer had any need to live. He was drained of desire for anything but sleep. When she had been alive, he had not known that she had meant so much to him, that anything could. He had never plumbed the measure of his love. He should have died with her; he had tried to. Only the pain of memory could ease the pain of regret, and nothing could ease the pain of memory.

He wanted to die. He told this to Alice Nemerov, R.N.

“Watch your tongue,” she counseled, “or they’ll oblige you. They don’t trust the two of us. We shouldn’t even talk together, or they’ll think we’re plotting. And you’d better try and get well again. Eat more. They don’t like you laying around not working. You understand what saved your life, don’t you? I did. You’re a damn fool to let them break your leg for you. Why wouldn’t you talk? They only wanted to know your occupation?”

“Jackie, was she—”

“It wasn’t any different for her than for the rest. You saw the machines. But you’ve got to get your mind off her. You—you’re lucky to be alive. Period.”

“The girl who feeds me—who is she?”

“Anderson’s daughter. He’s the one in charge here. The wiry old man with the constipated look. Watch out for him. And his son, the big one, Neil. He’s worse.”

“I remember him from that night. I remember his eyes.”

“But most of the people here aren’t any different from you and me. Except they’re organized. They’re not bad people. They only do what they have to. Lady, for instance, Blossom’s mother, is a fine woman. I have to go now. Eat more.”

“Can’t you eat more than that?” Blossom scolded. “You have to get your strength back.”

He picked up the spoon again.

“That’s better.” She smiled. There was a deep dimple in her freckled cheek when she smiled. Otherwise, it was a commonplace smile.

“What is this place? Does just your family live here?”

“It’s the commonroom. We only have it for the summer, because Daddy’s the mayor. Later when it’s cold, the whole town moves in. It’s awfully big, bigger than you can see from here, but even so it gets crowded. There’s two hundred and forty-six of us. Forty-eight, with you and Alice. Tomorrow do you think you can try walking? Buddy, he’s my brother, my other brother, made a crutch for you. You’ll like Buddy. When you’re healthy again, you’ll feel better— I mean, you’ll be happier. We aren’t as bad as you think. We’re Congregationalists. What are you?”

“I’m not.”

“Then you won’t have any trouble about joining. But we don’t have a real minister, not since Reverend Pastern died. He was my sister-in-law’s father—Greta. You’ve seen her. She’s the beauty among us. Daddy was always important in the church, so when the Reverend died, he just naturally took over. He can preach a good sermon, you’d be surprised. He’s actually a very religious man.”

“Your father? I’d like to hear one of those sermons.”