A halt. The men lay down the cable. The men regard Julie from a distance. The men standing about. Pemmican measured out in great dark whacks from the pem-mican-whacking knife. Edmund lifts flask to lips. Thomas removes flask. Protest by Edmund. Reproof from Thomas. Julie gives Edmund a chaw of bhang. Gratitude of Edmund. Julie wipes Edmunds forehead with white handkerchief. The cable relaxed in the road. The blue of the sky. Trees leant against. Bird stutter and the whisper of grasses. The Dead Father playing his guitar. Thomas performing leadership functions. Construction of the plan. Maps pored over and the sacred beans bounced in the pot. The yarrow sticks cast. The dice cup given a shake. Shoulder blade of a sheep roasted and the cracks in the bone read. Peas agitated in a sieve. The hatchet struck into a great stake and its quivers recorded. First-sprouting onion caught and its peels palpated. Portents totted up and divided by seven. Thomas falls to the ground in a swoon.
Picking up of Thomas. The Dead Father pauses in mid-strum. Application of wet cloths to Thomass forebrain. He revives. Anxiety of the onlookers. What has been foretold? Whacks of pemmican poised over open mouths in anticipation of revelation. Thomas remains silent. Anger of the men. Thomas stares at shoes. Anger of the men. Edmund lifts flask to lips. Emma appears. Thomas is startled. Who is Emma? Emma sits down on a box Julie regards Emma. Her stare met. Two stares contending. Emma fingering her brooch. Julie standing with hands pressed into thighs, atop skirt. Thomas fiddling with sword hilt. Silence of the troops. Golden hair of Emma. Pouty bosom of Emma. Merry eye of Emma. General consternation. The Dead Father lists his degrees. B.S.A., Bachelor of Science in Agriculture, to B.S.S.S., Bachelor of Science in Secretarial Studies. Evil look from Thomas to the Dead Father. Ferns cut and on a bed of ferns fresh trout newly wrest from the trout stream presented to Emma by kneeling-on-one-knee troopers. Emma pleased. Little hairs of pleasure rise on back of Emmas neck. Emma suggests cooking of trout (immediate) and produces from reticule a can of slivered almonds. The men build a fire, all pemmican forgot. More trout persuaded from trout stream, they are very eager. The sky grays as sun zips behind large cloud. Waning or demise of sun. The projector is set up for projection of the pornographic film. Thomas decides that the Dead Father is not allowed to view film, because of his age. Outrage of the Dead Father. Death of the guitar, whanged against a tree, in outrage. Guitar carcass added to the fire. Thomas adamant. The Dead Father raging. Emma regnant. Julie staring. Trout browning. Thomas walks to the edge. Regards the edge. Aspect of one about to hurtle over the. Thomas retreats from the edge. Slivered almonds distributed over various trouts browning in various skillets. Projector casts image upon screen (collapsible/portable). The Dead Father led away and chained to an engine block abandoned in a farther field. Revilings by the Dead Father. Damn your eyes, etc. Ignoring by Thomas. The film. Scenes of partying, men and women, the fourth guest, a woman, gets up and sits in the lap of the second guest, a woman, they begin fondling each others breasts. The ninth guest, a man, approaches the sixth guest (the one kneeling with her head between the legs of the fifth guest) and begins taking off her jeans. The ninth guest unbuckles the sixth guests belt, unzips the jeans, and works them down over her hips. The ninth guest carefully pulls down the sixth guests panties, which are orange, and sticks his erect thumb between her legs. Some members of the group watching screen, some watching Emma, some watching Emma/screen/Emma/screen, some watching Emma/screen/Julie/screen/Thomas.
Beam of Emma touching every face and who knows? heart. Tilt of Emma-bust toward fire where it blushes in the firelight. Frown from Julie who is removing small bones from trout. Seating arrangements to be announced. Beam of Emma creating confusions, some return beam, some do not, some are sunk in film, some asprawl in each others arms for mutual solace and comfort, some creeping toward Emmas box on hands and knees, when --
Emma rises, stretches out hands. Receives her trout brown and toasty with its little flittered almonds in a tasty sauce, butter, herbs. Emma bites trout. Bite-hole in trout, U-shaped. Applause of the men. Banging together of hands. Thomas orders the film ceased. The film, he says, does not represent accurately the parameters of human love. Something missing, he says. Anger of the men. Thomas discourses for fifteen minutes upon the subject, his own (personal) love of pornography. Nevertheless this film, this film, he says, is turned off. The sixth guest begins to move slowly up and down upon the thumb of the ninth guest and the picture is white light. Anger of the men. Anger of the women. Whistles and stomps. Ranting of the Dead Father, from a farther field. Thomas walks again toward the edge.
Absence of film. Restlessness of the men. The bolder come closer. Emmas box upon which Emmas fundament rests closely regarded. Attempt by the boldest to insinuate head under Emmas skirts, there to witness who knows what. These unsuccessful, Emmas dainty foot kicks. That will teach them. Chomping on trout continues the while, some sillybaby also chomped, with a dill sauce. That will teach them. Grumbling intermixed with shrieks. Emma rises, stretches. Then the duel, Alexander vs. Sam. Each pinks the other in the shoulder. Thomas bandaiding. Julie moves to Emma. Conversation.
Whose little girl are you?
I get by, I get by.
Time to go.
Hoping this will reach you at a favorable moment.
Bad things can happen to people.
Is that a threat?
Dragged him all this distance without any rootytoot-toot.
Is that a threat?
Take it any way you like it.
Other fish to fry.
We guarantee every effort will be made.
Whos the boss?
One in the orange tights.
Hes not bad-looking.
Thats one opinion.
Inclined to tarry for a bit.
Pop one of these if youd like a little lift.
Thank you.
Two is one too many.
Thats your opinion.
Since you have not as yet responded to my suggestion.
Where are you taking him?
We guarantee every effort will be made.
More than I can bear.
No its not.
Frightful violation of the ordinaries.
No its not.
Hes not bad-looking.
Havent made up my mind.
You must have studied English.
Take my word for it.
How did that make you feel?
Wasnt the worst.
I queened it for a while in Yorkshire.
Did you know Lord Raglan?
I knew Lord Raglan.
Hes not bad-looking.
Handsome, clever, rich.
Yorkshire has no queen of its own I believe.
Correct.
Time to go.
Inclined to tarry for a bit.
Thank you.
Two is one too many.
Thats your opinion.
Nevertheless. Nevertheless.
Various circumstances requiring my attention.
I can make it hot for you.
So full and orange.
You dont know what youre getting into.
Hoping this will reach you at a favorable moment.
Wake up one dark night with a thumb in your eye.
Women together changing that which can and ought to be changed.
Dangled his twiddle-diddles in my face.
More than I can bear.
No its not.
Will it hurt?
I dont know, I dont know, I dont know.
Hes not bad-looking.
Havent made up my mind.
Groups surrounding us needing direction.
Maybe.
Whats he like?
Thats my business.
Have you tried any of the others?
Thats my business.
Want to take a look around. See the sights.
I can make it hot for you.
Is that a threat?
Construed any way you wish.
I asked him about organization.
What did he tell you?
Destroy it in order to let the water flow freely.
Thats referred pain I know about that.
But a maiden drowned.
Did they recover a body?
Three. Two were the bodies of sheep.
Oh yes I read about it. In the Svenska Dagbladet.
And he felt guilty.
I never asked him.
Its all been carefully considered.
Hes a motherfucker I tell you true.
Nevertheless.
Doing what we must at great personal and emotional cost.
Any of the others any good?
Havent tried them.
Thought I heard a dog barking.
Its possible. The simplest basic units develop into the richest natural patterns.
Are you into spanking?
No Im not.
Pity. We could have got something going.
Im not into that.
Where can a body get a hit around here?
Pop one of these if youd like a little lift.
Thank you. Palm Sunday.
Hope you know what youre doing. Cordially.
Not too bothered. Thank you.
Time to go, time to go.
Walking by the sea, listening to the waves.
Think Im getting nosebleed.
Have my handkerchief.
Ive one of my own thank you.
I could have put it in a brick, he said.
A filthy-mouthed man.
Hes not bad-looking.
Have you tried any of the others?
I am only recently arrived and would like to wash and rest a bit.
Every effort will be made. I can make it hot for you.
Will it hurt?
My discretion. My yea or nay. Thought I heard a dog barking.
A spiritual aridity quite hard to reconcile with his surface gaiety.
Left Barcelona in disgrace.
I was suspicious of him from the first.
Certain provocations the government couldnt handle.
Too early to tell. Thats a very handsome pin.
My mothers. Willed to me at her death.
Goodbye goodbye goodbye.
Think Ill stick around for a while.
Thats interesting.
Take the lay of the land.
Thats interesting.
Have you told him?
To my shame I have not.
And if it is at all possible for you to see me.
Fond urgings and soft petitions.
Its all been carefully considered.
What?
Thought I heard a dog barking.
Did you know Lord Raglan?
We nodded when our carriages passed.
Out of here, out of here.
Not today, not today.
Pop one of these it will give you a little lift.
Will it hurt?