SADLIER
She stood before him
naked, her skin glowing in the dim flickering light of his
candle.
He made no attempt to
reconcile her presence there with the sprawl of rotting flesh and
bone that lay between them on the floor of the cave. They were one
and the same aid yet they were not The high reek of decay did not
faze him. He was aware of a faint odor, of a running slime beneath
his sandaled feet But the corpse meant nothing to him. He did not
even remember bringing it there from the church. Certainly not what
he’d done to it afterward.
She spoke to him. The
lush wide mouth seemed to move just a split second behind the
words.
“Say what you
want.”
He said nothing, only
stood there, yet she nodded.
“It’s yours,” die
said. And he understood her to mean, but not for free.
She told him her
price.
He agreed.
For what he asked the
price was small indeed. Her lips moved again, the voice just barely
proceeding it. It rolled with resonance inside him.
“Do that,” she said,
“then come back to me.”
He nodded, backed
away, his erection grinding at the thin loose trousers.
“I will make you
new."
He saw the cave wall
sweating.
Suddenly she was
gone.
He saw the crabs
swarming over the body, carrying away bits of flesh between their
pincers, scuttling all around, blue-black and shining in the
candlelight.
Cupping his hand to
the flame he moved quickly to the far side of the cave, heard
shells crack beneath his feet, ran up the goat path to the top of
the hill.
The moon was bright.
He paused there, breathing heavily. He blew out the candle. He saw
the moon glinting on the waves, the bright white clouds
overhead.
Beside him, she
turned and smiled. She was naked as before.
He watched as she
drew herself up and the muscles of her calves and shoulders pulled
back off bare white bone, the smile the long wide grimace of a
skull, the muzzle of an animal. She dove down and out like a
graceful slow-flying bird into the sea.
Nothing disturbed the
water.
He turned, cold, and
walked back to the campground to do what he had promised.