Saturday, January 23, 2010

23

The content of their discussion, however, is rather nonsensical -- or so it appears to him. They ask him if he has ever had a dog. His memory, however, is not sufficient to answer this question. As yet, the only memories he has of what might have been his previous life before the darkness are of the house and the girl.
I don't know.
You don't know if you've ever had a dog? asks the buzzard.
No.
Have you ever had a cat? I had a cat once. Laurence, here [pointing to the first priest he had seen at the church] hates cats, don't you Laurence?
I never said I hated cats, says Laurence. I said I was allergic to them.
Same thing, dear child.
I had a guinea pig as a child, says Laurence. I was quite fond of him. Boethius, I named it. Alas, however, he was not to be. My father decapitated him with a pair of hedge clippers.
Guinea pigs are a delicacy in Mexico, says the third priest. I had the pleasure of eating one, once.
The two other priests regard the third one with looks of abject horror.
I had a cat once, he says.
You had a cat, once, hunter?
Yes.
He is startled at the utter change in the demeanor of the priests from jolly and rather silly to completely serious and inquisitorial.
Tell us everything about the cat you say you once had, hunter.
He starts to laugh but checks himself. The priests are looking at him as though they await an answer to the most grave question concerning matters of state.

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