bill houston (3)
The warden stopped reading. "Is something wrong?"
Wrong? He stood next to Brian facing the warden, the doctor, the two guards. Every one of them was terrified. They were all scared to death of what was happening. The warden's voice trembled. "Do you have anything to say at this time" he asked Bill Houston.
Bill Houston was floored by the question. "Is there something I'm supposed to say now?"
Everyone was confused.
Brian said suddenly, "I want you to know I don't think you deserve to die. I think you been healed."
Nobody knew how to react. They all looked around. It was obvious even the warden didn't know if Brian had just broken a rule. "I really feel that way," Brian said defiantly.
"Thank you," Bill Houston said.
They all stood there in a long silence. What was going on now?
"What's going on?" Bill Houston asked.
The warden looked green and ill. "We still have a couple of minutes," he said. "I think we should wait, don't you?" He glanced around helplessly.
Bill Houston whispered to Brian, "I don't think I can stand up any more."
Taking him by the elbow, Brian helped Bill Houston into the gas chamber.
A truth filled up the chamber: there was nothing left for him now. The door had shut on his life. It said DEATH IS THE MOTHER OF BEAUTY. He couldn't hear a thing. He wondered if they'd put cotton in his ears.
And then there was a faint rattling in the pipe to his right, and the sound of boiling liquid beneath him. He looked down at the length of surgical tubing that ran from his chest to the door. There it goes. Up that tube. That's all that's ever really been important. A visible vapor was curling up over his knees.
He held his breath. Every rivet of metal was a jewel to him. He felt he could hold his breath forever--no problem. Boom, boom. Even as his heart accelerated, it seemed to him inexplicably that his heart was slowing down. You can get right in between each beat, and let the next one wash over you like the best and biggest warm ocean there ever was. His eyes were on fire. He hated to shut them, but they hurt. He wanted to see. Boom! Was there anything as pretty as that one? Another coming...boom! Beautiful! They just don't come any better than that.
He was in the middle of taking the last breath of his life before he realized he was taking it. But it was all right. Boom! Unbelievable! And another coming? How many of these things do you mean to give away? He got right in the dark between heartbeats, and rested there. And then he saw that another one wasn't going to come. That's it. That's the last. He looked at the dark. I would like to take this opportunity, he said, to pray for another human being.
Denis Johnson, Angels
Wrong? He stood next to Brian facing the warden, the doctor, the two guards. Every one of them was terrified. They were all scared to death of what was happening. The warden's voice trembled. "Do you have anything to say at this time" he asked Bill Houston.
Bill Houston was floored by the question. "Is there something I'm supposed to say now?"
Everyone was confused.
Brian said suddenly, "I want you to know I don't think you deserve to die. I think you been healed."
Nobody knew how to react. They all looked around. It was obvious even the warden didn't know if Brian had just broken a rule. "I really feel that way," Brian said defiantly.
"Thank you," Bill Houston said.
They all stood there in a long silence. What was going on now?
"What's going on?" Bill Houston asked.
The warden looked green and ill. "We still have a couple of minutes," he said. "I think we should wait, don't you?" He glanced around helplessly.
Bill Houston whispered to Brian, "I don't think I can stand up any more."
Taking him by the elbow, Brian helped Bill Houston into the gas chamber.
A truth filled up the chamber: there was nothing left for him now. The door had shut on his life. It said DEATH IS THE MOTHER OF BEAUTY. He couldn't hear a thing. He wondered if they'd put cotton in his ears.
And then there was a faint rattling in the pipe to his right, and the sound of boiling liquid beneath him. He looked down at the length of surgical tubing that ran from his chest to the door. There it goes. Up that tube. That's all that's ever really been important. A visible vapor was curling up over his knees.
He held his breath. Every rivet of metal was a jewel to him. He felt he could hold his breath forever--no problem. Boom, boom. Even as his heart accelerated, it seemed to him inexplicably that his heart was slowing down. You can get right in between each beat, and let the next one wash over you like the best and biggest warm ocean there ever was. His eyes were on fire. He hated to shut them, but they hurt. He wanted to see. Boom! Was there anything as pretty as that one? Another coming...boom! Beautiful! They just don't come any better than that.
He was in the middle of taking the last breath of his life before he realized he was taking it. But it was all right. Boom! Unbelievable! And another coming? How many of these things do you mean to give away? He got right in the dark between heartbeats, and rested there. And then he saw that another one wasn't going to come. That's it. That's the last. He looked at the dark. I would like to take this opportunity, he said, to pray for another human being.
Denis Johnson, Angels
posted by mh at 2:25 PM
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