The Curfew - Jesse Ball [5]
There is a theory that the sun is made up of thousands of suns arranged in a war each against the others. It is a discredited theory, but it has never been disproven.
He took an oblique route to the next place, and passed through several alleys, which were themselves connected to other alleys. Here, the backs of things could be seen, unrepaired, unconstructed, unrepentant. Still, one was not unwatched. Faces could be seen beneath ruined stairwells and from the mouths of makeshift tents.
Down the first side-alley he saw a man running, and several men in pursuit. The man who was running ran in an odd way, the way one runs only if one’s hands are tied. Of those who chased him, one had a catch pole with a wire on the end. It ducked towards the first man’s head again and again, but he kept ahead and shot around a corner. The others raced on, relentlessly, and all were gone from sight.
How could the government’s people know one another? The simple answer, and the truth of it, as far as William could tell, is they did not. Government men were often caught by other government men and taken into the huge death cell rumored to be in the city center (no one had ever seen it). Once captured, the truth or falsehood of their claims could be decided. It was a small difficulty that permitted them to go at large without uniforms, operating with impunity.
The next place was a business. It was a butcher’s shop, a huge one. As he entered, he emerged into a place for standing before a long counter, perhaps ninety feet in length. Behind it stood ten or fifteen men dressed in long white aprons. The counter was wood on top with glass, and William had never in his life seen so much meat in one place.
As it is described it seems very still, but in fact, there were dozens of customers in line, and the men behind the counter were strenuously engaged in great business of cutting, slicing, wrapping, tying. They dodged past one another, and past innumerable blades and cleavers with acrobatic motions.
William bypassed the line, and a young man, also in an apron, approached him immediately.
—You’ll need to wait there.
—I’m not here to buy anything.
—In that case, you certainly need to stand over there. If you just want to look around, come by at some hour when we’re less busy.
—No, no, I’m here on business. Mr. Denton asked me to come.
—Denton? Well, why didn’t you say so? Come with me.
The boy gave the line a stern look before turning away, to make sure everyone stayed exactly where they were.
—Over here.
He walked William down to the end of the shop, where a small stair led to a door.
—I go no farther, said the boy. It had better have been true what you said. Denton doesn’t like soliciting.
He hurried away back down the stairs.
William then opened the door and went into one of the tidiest, most comfortable rooms he had ever been lucky enough to encounter.
There was one very fine leather chair directly in front of a large window that overlooked the shop. All around were bookshelves, full of books of every kind, although he could see that many pertained to butchery and to animal anatomy. A drafting table was against one wall. The whole room was lit by candles, perhaps sixty of them. Before the drafting table, which was meant to be used standing, stood a large man of formidable characteristic.
—Mr. Denton?
—You are from the mason, I assume.
—I am that.
—Sit over there, please. I will fetch a stool.
Denton opened a closet and removed a three-legged stool. He placed it beside the sumptuous leather chair.
—Sit down, he said again.
He was about fifty, with a weathered face and deeply brown, almost black eyes. He wore the same aproned outfit as the men below, but his was the definitive version.
William sat. Out of his pocket, the notebook. He began to sharpen a new pencil.
—That’s a fine little knife, said Denton.