Better Places

Mist increased nearer the hills.  Stinson turned back to check on the others and saw they had turned into little pimples in the wisp, digging.  He didn’t know if Geissel was singing another Christmas carol.  He didn’t know if Masterson was sneering and telling him to shut up.  But he guessed that’s what was happening.  There was something very lonely about where he was now.  It was a lifeless place.  He looked up to the sky hoping he may see that barn swallow he had spotted flying north a few days back.  There was no barn swallow.  No birds at all.  But there was a Captain Littlewood walking a few yards ahead of him.  No words had been exchanged for a quarter mile, so Stinson tried to strike up conversation:  ‘Did you ever think you’d wind up in such a place as this, Captain?’

‘Well, there are always possible worlds.  At sea, you’ll envision all kinds of places in the dark expanse because your eyes get mightily peeled when you’re far off from land.  Islands made out of shadow.   A trick of the light and you’ve got a whole new country.  There’s a constant state of anticipation you find yourself in.’

‘But this place?’

‘Obviously I never envisioned this place... ...but I anticipated it.’

‘Anticipation is generally a positive thing.’

‘It depends what it is you’re anticipating.  I always say, anticipate bitter winds.’

‘Well, most of us anticipate good things, don’t we?  Unless you’re a pessimist.’

‘You don’t have to be a pessimist.  My mother’s death was not a good thing to anticipate.  But I certainly had to anticipate it.’

‘But you must also have anticipated that better place for your mother.’

‘I suppose.  But that’s me.  Look at Katrine back there.  Do you think she’s anticipating this better place?’

Stinson reflected.  He had never really thought through the ramifications of non-theistic belief.  Even as a student of theology, the concept of atheism was an abstraction.  But he wasn’t about to start trying to figure it out now, so he continued with: ‘Was she ill a long time before it happened – your mother?’

‘There were some months of it, yes.’

‘That must have been painful.’

‘No wind was so bitter.’

They kept walking.  Stinson felt good about seeing the introspective and temperate side of Captain Littlewood once again. 

‘I’m glad you made friends with Masterson,’ he said.  I know he’s a dreadful fellow sometimes.  But it’s best not to be fighting.  Considering where we are.’

‘I didn’t make friends with him.’

‘Oh, I thought you did.’

‘No. That priest is a scoundrel.’

‘A villain, yes.’

‘A fuck.’