(Iglesia is a serialized novel, published on Tuesdays and Saturdays at midnight ET, you can read all of the episodes by clicking on the tag.)
When he woke up, before he opened his eyes, he smelled tea. And cedar. And he was supposed to be meditating damn it, not sleeping.
Shit.
He smelled where the tea was coming from, stood up facing the other way and started walking away from the tree again. He didn’t look over when he was getting up and he didn’t look back as he walked away.
And then suddenly, Rogers was standing right in front of him. Abe tried to brush past him but went through him instead. No matter, he kept walking. But when Rogers appeared in front of him again, this time sitting in a lotus posture and floating three feet or so off the ground, he was startled enough to stop. When he started walking again after turning sharply left….Rogers was still floating, three feet in front of him, three feet off of the ground. In other words, just out of range. Now he was floating backwards as Abe strode forward.
“Well,” Rogers said, in that cynical tone that only an Indian accent can really capture…”it is indeed quite a pleasant day for a walk, I must admit.”
“I don’t care much for the scenery,” Abe said, going for a sort of Robert Mitchum growl. He was to mad to try to pull off Bogie right now.
“Yes, well….though I admit it is unlikely, there is always the possibility that you could stop and have some tea some like a civilized person, instead of gallivanting about the country side like some athletic toddler off on a cross country tantrum.”
“Shove your tea up your altimeter equipped ass. I am done being a pawn of you assholes, all of you. Kill me some more or send me to hell or just go the fuck away and leave me here, I don’t care. I won’t kill for anyone again, after The Center. So fuck off.”
“Oh my!” A linen handkerchief rose up from Mr Rogers hip pocket and wiped his eyes as if he had been crying. “Such a sad and noble story! I am truly moved”
His voice hadn’t even paused when Abe’s spinning back kick traveled through him, as he was uttering the word truly. Abe shrugged and started walking again.
“There is a beautiful little pond about a half mile to your left, as long as you are going to keep up this petulant walking business, would you mind very much heading that way? I am almost certain that you have deduced the fact that you simply cannot just walk out of what you think of as Heaven, so I am confident that you will soon have the good sense to realize that this particular strategy is not what the situation you find yourself in calls for at this particular time.”
“Fuck Off.”
“Well I am starting to feel quite silly and I very much would like a cup of tea and to stop this ridiculous trekking across the prairie. Perhaps if I told you that the people you are likely to wind up killing …or helping to kill… were the people who instructed Captain Smith to kill you and your partner?”
Abe took three more steps and then mumbled…”Left, you said?”
And they were suddenly sitting at a linen covered tea table with a full silver tea service upon it, next to a large pond ringed with tall cottonwood trees that leaned out over the center of the water and provided a shady canopy for them, there on the bank.
To sip tea under.
In Heaven.
While talking about killing someone. For a guy who could float.
“Those cakes look tasty,” Abe said.
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tea hating, were you tramatized in childhood by a cup of tea?
That I won’t be insulted in the least if you threw a calico in a story line some time in the future.
blessings on your world …..
blessings on your dreams for yourself and the world….
you are a blessing….
and what I am coming to see here is a blessing….
I am beginning to understand the activities of the folks here more as time goes on…..
you all throw your heart into this place and I love you for it……
hold a place in the dreaming of the world for me……
I like Iglesia, Buhdy, and sure, setting scenes in North Dakota is a widely used literary trick too many writers rely on to keep their readers turning the page in anticipation of scenic splendor, and epic adventures featuring heroic manly men and extremely beautiful women who hop from bed to bed in Fargo and other exotic ND cities . . . but it works.
I slogged through 3,000 pages of The Baroque Cycle, only to be disappointed that there wasn’t even one North Dakota scene in it, so I hope that doesn’t happen again in Iglesia, right here on our own front page.
you will remember to negotiate over three cups of tea?
i feel like i should just quit commenting in Iglesia… i mean, how many ways can you say~ “enjoyed the hell out of it…fanfuckintastic” ???
read part of the morning news and am ready to hurl myself off the nearest cliff. so, i’ll start with episode 29 and then go back and read from the beginning.