Death In The Family, A - James Agee [32]
And those also who talk with them in that room beneath whose door the light lies like a guardian slave, a bar of gold, my witty uncle, and my girlish aunt: I have yet to know them well, but they and my father and my mother are all fond of each other, and I like them, and I know that they like me.
I hear the easy chiming of their talk and their laughter.
But before long now they too will leave and the house will become almost silent and before long the darkness, for all its leniency, will take my father and my mother and will bring them, even as I have been brought, to bed and to sleep.
You come to us once each day and never a day rises into brightness but you stand behind it; you are upon us, you overwhelm us, all of each night. It is you who release from work, who bring parted families and friends together, and people for a little while are calm and free, and all at ease together; but before long, before long, all are brought down silent and motionless
Under your sheltering, your great sheltering, darkness.
And all through that silence you walk as if none but you had ever breathed, had ever dreamed, had ever been.
My darkness, are you lonely?
Only listen, and I will listen to you.
Only watch me, and I will watch into your eyes.
Only know that I am awake and aware of you, only be my friend, and I will be your friend.
You need not ever fear; or ever be lonely; or want for love.
Tell me your secrets; you can trust me.
Come near. Come very near.
Darkness indeed came near. It buried its eye against the eye of the child’s own soul, saying:
Had ever breathed, had ever dreamed, had ever been.
And somewhat as in blind night, on a mild sea, a sailor may be made aware of an iceberg, fanged and mortal, bearing invisibly near, by the unwarned charm of its breath, nothingness now revealed itself: that permanent night upon which the stars in their expiring generations are less than the glinting of gnats, and nebulae, more trivial than winter breath; that darkness in which eternity lies bent and pale, a dead snake in a jar, and infinity is the sparkling of a wren blown out to sea; that inconceivable chasm of invulnerable silence in which cataclysms of galaxies rave mute as amber.
Darkness said:
When is this meeting, child, where are we, who are you, child, who are you, do you know who you are, do you know who you are, child; are you?
He knew that he would never know, though memory, almost captured, unrecapturable, unbearably tormented him. That this little boy whom he inhabited was only the cruelest of deceits. That he was but the nothingness of nothingness, condemned by some betrayal, condemned to be aware of nothingness. That yet in that desolation, he was not without companions. For featureless on the abyss, invincible, moved monstrous intuitions. And from the depth and wide throat of eternity burned the cold, delirious chuckle of rare monsters beyond rare monsters, cruelty beyond cruelty.
Darkness said:
Under my sheltering: in my great sheltering.
In the corner, not quite possible to detach from the darkness, a creature increased, which watched him.
Darkness said:
You hear the man you call your father: how can you ever fear?
Under the washstand, carefully, something moved.
You hear the woman who thinks you are her child.
Beneath his prostrate head, eternity opened.
Hear how he laughs at you; in what amusement she agrees.
The curtain sighed as powers unspeakable passed through it.
Darkness purred with delight and said:
What is this change your eye betrays?
Only a moment ago, I was your friend, or so you claimed; why this sudden loss of love?
Only a moment ago you were all eagerness to know my secrets; where is your hunger now?
Only be steadfast: for now, my dear, my darling, the moment comes when hunger and love will be forever satisfied.
And darkness, smiling, leaned ever more intimately inward upon him, laid open the huge, ragged mouth—
Ahhhhh ...!
Child, child, why do you betray