An east wind howled and moaned in turns around the corners of the house, and sent slivers of sleet crashing against the window in Moe’s guest room. Tyne, lying in one of the single beds, came to consciousness with a start. For a moment she could not distinguish between the eerie noises and her dream. But when she opened her eyes, she could see by the faint light coming through the dripping panes that the sounds which had roused her were the reality. It looked to be almost night; she must have slept for hours. Throwing the covers aside, she sat up and looked at the bedside clock. Surprised to see that it was only a little before noon, she lay back again and closed her eyes. The welcome aroma of coffee suggested that Moe was still here, probably ready with a meal whenever Tyne woke up. She should have known that her friend, who had even requested a leave-of-absence to be with her, wouldn’t leave her alone in the house. She really should get up; there was no point in lying in bed when sleep, as it had for three days until this morning, eluded her. But Aunt Millie was on hospital duty, and would be upset if Tyne hurried back. They had finally convinced her – ganged up on her, really – to go back to the Halls’ house where she could sleep much more comfortably in bed than in a chair in a visitor’s waiting room at the Holy Cross.
There is no such thing as old hat when it comes to this. It’s like it all happens for the first time each time. It grew more and more intense. We lay there on the ground and I don’t know how long we lay there. The shafts of light rippled up in an arc all around us, and they came to a centre point directly above us and that point was a black hole. All the rest was light, and the colours were showering down – purple, gold, green, blue, red. The words don’t work. It was as if we were laying on the floor of a cathedral the size of the universe. The earth was no longer an issue – we weren’t even part of the planet. I can see how religions began. It was stuff like this – it undoes one. All the rational explanations we have for this are nonsense. They just don’t work. You have to find a bigger answer. This is too big, too beautiful, and too mysterious. Something holy descended on their souls. Ken felt as though they had had a direct experience of God and the magic of that night clung to them during those ten days in the Thelon. The Thelon was like no other place on earth. When the glaciers had retreated they had left behind a vast amount of chirt, a very dense stone that had formed into eskers or low humpbacked hills from forty to a hundred and fifty feet high. The stone was so dense the permafrost could not penetrate it and as a result the vegetation that grew there, born from seeds carried by migrating birds, was that of a more southern landscape. But because of the severe winters and punishing winds, it was a landscape in miniature. Trees that might grow to a hundred feet in the south grew to only a couple of feet here, but they were flawlessly formed. At the base of each esker was a perfectly round small lake, so thick with Arctic grayling you could almost reach your hand into the water and pull one out. When they got back Ken promised himself that this time he wouldn’t leave on another trip until he had finished the painting. He locked himself in his studio and from October 1990 to May 1991. He emerged only long enough to eat and sleep. The epic project neared completion. Elaine suggested a decorous and dignified gathering to commemorate the event. Ken and the word “decorous” were obviously never meant to meet. He insisted on a “last brushstroke” party that would be more extravagant than his “first brushstroke” event ten years earlier. Decorum in his studio? A studio that had a sign at the entrance identifying it as “The Zoo?” Karen had even presented him with a road sign he had admired in Yellowknife: Ragged Ass Road and Lois Lane. Ken had actually tried to steal the sign more than once, but each time he had attempted it, someone had gotten to it before him and taken off with it. He guessed that the City of Yellowknife works department likely had a full time employee doing nothing but erecting a new road sign at…
Unacceptable He pulled away from our company little by little, as if he was somewhat sad as if somewhat strangely serene, as if he had discovered something great and incommunicable — a headless statue, a star, a truth the final and only truth — “which truth?” we asked him. He didn’t answer as if he knew we couldn’t even have wished to know. The first stone was cast by his friends. His opponents couldn’t be stopped. At the trial they asked him again and again. He said no word. Then the judge rang the bell loudly, yelled, turned angry, ordered silence, so that the silence of the accused couldn’t be heard. The guilty verdict was unanimous. One by one we turned and leaned our heads against the wall.
I have been cold in agony waiting for the lone cloud and its misty dress
Where are you running, little creek, the river rocks asked— I’m going to the great ancestor where you and I are not where in its wholeness I shall melt becoming a whiff of air pasted on an autumn day turning to a wish in the heart of a young lover gazing at the stars and longing for his mate who’s kept high among the gleaming eyes, the smiling youth answered— I’m going to the great Ocean
Manolis Aligizakis 