The New Weird - Ann VanderMeer [106]
Vali tried to remember when Mona had talked about things other than death.
Mona started to say something else, but abruptly broke off coughing. A thimbleful of blood escaped her lips and fell, beginning a long fall to the dry world below. More drops followed.
Vali was grateful when Gwynn drew Siegfried away. She lowered Mona to the ground and tried to shield her from the wind. "Such a mess we've made," she muttered, as she took the handkerchief out of Mona's coat pocket and put it in her hand. "A damn fine mess." She was unsure why she included herself in the accusation, except that to separate herself from Mona, now, would be a pain too far. But still she felt calm, and wondered if she was developing apathy as an instinctive stratagem for survival, withdrawing from all care like a threatened snail retreating into its shell.
Gwynn led Siegfried to a spot where a flat slab of stone lay in the weeds a short distance from the cliff, far enough away to give the women privacy without being out of earshot. Gwynn sat down on the stone, flicking back his coat-tails, and gestured for Siegfried to sit as well. Siegfried complied with a certain weakness of knee. Following celebrities was one thing; having a famous person actually invite his company was something else entirely. He had never had the experience before, and found it a little intoxicating. He was expecting Gwynn to speak, but the man's attention was fixed on a nearby thornbush, a shrike's abandoned scaffold where numerous tiny skeletons still hung. A spider as white as the bones themselves was busy among them, spinning, moving with opulent flourishes of its limbs.
"Look at that," Gwynn said softly. "How precisely that spider moves, how delicate she is. A natural mathematician, knowing innately the geometry she needs for her work. Do you ever take time to contemplate the wonders of nature, Siegfried?"
Siegfried shook his head. "Not really, sir." He was surprised by the question.
"You should. Nature can be very inspiring. I've always found it so."
Siegfried put pen to the last page in his notebook. "I guess I'm too much of a city boy, sir. I mean, I'd miss trees and things if they weren't there, but this place is pretty bleak. There's not much out here."
"Not for a man about town, I suppose. You must know a lot of people."
"Yes, sir. A journalist needs contacts."
"A network of informants? What an admirable approach to human relations. By the way, there's no need to call me 'sir.' I'm not a gentleman, despite what you may have read in the serials."
"Manners are a defence against the world, aren't they?" Siegfried shifted his seat. "I don't read those magazines," he said, self-consciously. "I prefer the stimulations of adroit thought to those of sensationalism."
"Is that so?" said Gwynn. "Well, each to his own stimulations. Personally, I've always favoured drugs." He reached inside the breast of his coat and took out a slender, fancy case. Opening it, he offered the long, red-papered, expensive-looking cigarettes inside to Siegfried before taking one for himself. Siegfried attempted to hide his pleasure as he accepted the proffered luxury. Usually he was the one who had to buy smokes and drinks for his interviewees. Gwynn lit for them both, the yellow flame of the match doing a brief dance in the dark.
The tobacco was smooth and richly aromatic. Siegfried inhaled with abandon. By the rush it gave him, he was certain there was some kind of extra dope in it as well. He jotted a note that Gwynn was indeed a gentleman, whatever his own claim.
Siegfried stared at the tranquil stars and listened to the rowdy wind, putting to paper various thoughts that came to him, until Gwynn said, "So what is it that you fear from the world?"
Siegfried paused in his writing. "In general? Or right now?"
"Let's start with now."
"I'm not really afraid," he said, "just excited, I guess. You know, butterflies inside? Well, maybe you don't know the feeling. Anyway, you're famous, and I'm not anybody yet. Like you said, I know a lot of people, but most of them aren't very important.