It looked quite like a heart. If you have ever been to a
fair this side of the sun, you will have seen one of those tents with one of
those jars. Cow foetuses masquerading as mutant wonders. This was however
something different. It was a beating heart. It was a noiseless thing. You
couldn't hear it beating but you could see it moving. Rubbery. Slimy. Something
that makes your stomach jump like it does when you see roadkill.
Jan saw it first.
He was a slender man with slender craftman hands and he
clenched the barrier that kept the curious spectators back as he stared at it.
He stared it like he had stared at the first pair of boobies in the first porno
he had seen when Altman's Travelling Movie Circus had shown up in town. He had
paid money and he was determined to get his money's worth.
Everything else at the fair was shut down. Not even a single
mechanical tinkle could be heard. The audience was streaming homeward. A static
hiss of a radio here, a raucous card player there.
At that moment, however, Jan and the heart existed alone in
the universe. Wonder lit his eyes.
"You still here, brother?", said a shadow, coming
into the glare of the solitary light bulb.
"Yeah," said Jan curtly, not too happy about this
intrusion on his thoughts.
The circus master was a connoisseur of curiosity. He nodded
at the jar. "Isn't it something?"
Jan grunted and nodded. "I want to buy it."
The circus master snorted and then laughed a mocking laugh.
"Why would I want to sell? People come to see it. Makes me money."
"Oh," Jan let his disappointment show.
"Well, now. No need to be too sad young man. If you
have money. Speak up."
"How much?"
"How about - " the circus master raised a fists
and counted on his fingers. "five and maybe another five?"
Jan nodded with anticipation. The circus master saw this and
raised his total, "- well maybe even fifteen?"
Worry creased Jan's brow. "Look here now, I just got
twelve cards in my pack. I just want it to make me popular back in my home
town. I don't want to make money from it."
"I see, I see. I think we can come to an
arrangement.."
Jan was sold the heart and the jar containing it was put in
the back of Jan's old cycle rickshaw.
"Just don't take it out of the liquid, will you?"
said the circus master as Jan readied to leave. Jan nodded and drove off. The
sky was bluer and brighter as stars died and night arrived around man and
machine. The rickshaw made a faint clanking and the liquid in the jar sloshed
around the heart. Crickets provided company.
Jan looked back again and again at his possession. Checking
on his ticket to interestingness.
--
The Outlands had always been barren and Jan's home town,
widely known among by the residents as The Burrow, was an oasis. Lanterns
tossed light over patches of the property and the talking men that marked the
property.
Jan headed straight to Buttner's store. The men recognized
the creak of Jan's cycle-rick and stopped talking as it got closer.
"Hi Dun, Hi Matt," Jan said without stopping.
"Come to my house tomorrow, I got something to show you."
"Yeah? What you got?" the men shouted after the
departing Jan. They got no answer but the muttering of frogs. "Tell us or
we ain't coming Jan!"
"Oh you sure coming fellas. You coming as sure as
Jesus!" Jan shouted back. He grinned to himself. They sure coming.
Jan drove by all the places where he could find men and he
told them the same thing that he told Dun and Matt. Uncertain men in uncertain
lantern lights stood around in The Burrow and talked about this thing that Jan
had gotten his idiot hands on. Some people said it was a thing and some others
thought it was that other thing. The Redhead said it was an animal but the
Buttner brothers claimed it was a machine. Anders wondered if it was a wife and
Mrs. Anders wondered if it was a husband. Everyone was interested.
--
Jan reached home. He lived alone and he carried the jar
pushing the door open with his butt and performing all the gymnastics that
comes with carrying a heavy thing with both your hands. He set it down in the
living room, right over the tee vee. The house was filled with grey things and
this was the only thing with any colour.
There was nothing to do now but wait. Jan knew the jar was
going to make his life a lot more interesting now. He imagined all manners in
which that might happen.
"Damn I try and I try but everyone thinks I am an
idiot. You don't think so do you? I think you should have a name. How about
Clyde? Clyde is good. So, Clyde do you think I am an idiot? I didn't think so.
Well, you know what Clyde? You and I are going to be very good friends. And
Clyde, you my friend are going to make me famous."
The jar and its lone resident chose to respond with silence.
Jan dragged the only chair in his house in front of the tee
vee and slept in it.
--
Morning came and it brought people.
Dun and Matt stood in the front door. Jan woke up, startled,
and then grinned the widest grin.
"Hey Jan - we - came. To have a look - at whatever it
is - that you have."
Jan pointed to the jar. Dun and Matt stared.
"What is it?" asked Dun in a whisper usually
reserved for sacred words. Matt's mouth hung limp, a pink weal, showing teeth.
"Jan, tell us what it is. Is it a heart?"
Jan smiled his widest smile, the smile he had planned to
smile at his wedding.
"Why fellas, it is indeed a heart. And it is not just
any heart. It is my heart."
--
It was the third month of winter this side of the sun.
For the first time since he was born, Jan was happy as a
well fed dog. Boots tramping up to his house to gaze at the horrible wonder,
the hushed sounds of respect men made while standing in his house, the groan of
the house as people came and went was extremely pleasing for Jan. Hairy wrists
and fair faces came to Jan wanting to know if they could see it.
Jan would invite them in casually. He would gesture torpidly
towards his heart and silence would engulf the room. Lizzie Buttner even
fainted once. She never returned. Most people came twice, thrice and more. The
room would burst with people from The Burrow and flies would itch their legs
all over the place.
It was the same ritual always. No one would say anything.
The people would stand or sit thinking. Jan imagined their brains working
behind their bony skulls as he accepted their food, their cigars and their
gratitude.
It was like a church. People believed in Jan and his heart.
And guess who did not like it? Gramps, the preacher. The ruler of the real
church. Unsurprisingly, attendance had dwindled at the church. Gramps had heard
about Jan's heart but he had dismissed it as a silly tale. But now it was the
only thing anyone talked about. Gramps did not like it one bit. All that
reverent awe wasted on that idiot and his oddity.
Some of the men shared Gramps irritation and these men met
with Gramps and a plan was hatched.
--
As was customary, people showed up at Jan's house on a
Sunday, like pins to some oddly attractive pin-cushion. The gathering had begun
and there was no sound but for that of impatient feet and the scurrying of rats
under the porch planks outside. Jan was up front, on his rocking chair, resting
on a pillow, gifted by the Buttners. He was rocking slowly, enjoying the fame.
Jan had a crush on Mary Buttner since he had seen her and she was at the back
of the gathering with all the womenfolk. Her soft lips pursed but she spoke not
a word to nobody.
After a period of proper silence, Gramps, who had appeared
unseen, cleared the phlegm from his old throat. Everyone turned towards the
source of the sound as if to admonish the maker of the sound for breaking their
saturnine silence. Gramps, blinking, dried lips, calloused face and all the
signs of age, stood. Gramps looked a long while, before licking his lips in a
single reptilian motion, and spoke in his thin reedy voice, "Now like you
my children, I have wondered what it is. What it is that brings you here? What
it is that keeps you from thinking about your Lord and saviour? I ask myself,
oh I do, what is it that is so important to my flock that they can't show up at
the church and be together in the name of the Lord? Wonder what it is that has
made them forget me, your humble servant my Lord? Wonder if it's a he or a she
or an it or something else? Now I know. It is this vile thing. This jar sitting
here in the long dark night. Think about it lying here. Hanging above this
mess. Waiting. For what you think? Death and destruction! That is what! That is
right my children. That is all this thing can bring you. Because ask yourself, what really is this thing? That
man's heart!? Have you ever seen a man and his heart live apart from each
other?! Have you?! Nay, it is not true. Jan is a liar! It is not his heart, It
is the work of the Devil, Lord forgive me for taking his name!"
Shocked into silence. And then suddenly everyone started
talking. Gramps moved his head side to side before lapsing back into silence.
The damage was done. The seed of doubt was sown.
The people left one by one. Jan tried convincing that he had
never met the Devil and even if he had he would never collaborate with him on
an art project.
--
Winter did not end that year. It carried on into summer. The
town of Burrow was in trouble. Lizzie Buttner had fallen sick. Jo Marner had
died in an accident. Dun and Matt had tried to steal food from the Buttners and
they had been shot dead in the street. The Burrow had fallen on hard times and
in hard times people look for answers. And if they can't find the answers they
look for new questions. Which is how one fine day Jan found Mary Buttner and
her friends up at his house. They had come around to look at the heart and
wanted to know if it was okay. Would Jan mind it awfully if they were to see
the heart now?
Why would Jan mind that? Jan nodded happily and beckoned
them inside. He watched them watch hungrily. It was like meeting a long lost
friend.
"It looks like this dog puppy our Bessie gave birth to.
Our Bessie is always giving birth to puppies," said Mary in a benevolent,
soft voice. "So this one puppy was born like that. You know, all deformed
and unmade. No form, no features except for two large watery eyes."
"It looks like one of those swamp babies my nana talks
about. She says they are the reason we don't get no food this time," said
Alin, whose nana was crazier than the craziest bat.
And soon enough Jan's house was filled with people again.
People wanting to see his heart suspended in the red liquid. People wanting to
stare at this wonder in silence. People wanting to forget that they were
hungry.
--
To the few people that came to his church, Gramps preached.
He preached understanding and tolerance and virtues. Gramps was angry but he
did not let his flock see it. Jan and his heart had stolen his thunder when
traditionally it was Gramps' job to comfort his children. Gramps was not needed
and Gramps did not like that. And as idle minds are often wont to do, Gramps'
mind became the devil's workshop.
--
One day in the ninth month of winter, Jan woke up to find
that the jar was missing. He no longer slept in the living room and he had not
heard anything during the night. Jan was distraught. It was more than an oddity
for Jan now. It was almost a part of him. It was like suddenly losing an arm.
Jan rode his cycle-rick in town looking for the jar or anyone who might have
seen the jar.
Questions and their answers led Jan to the church. Jan
rushed to the church to recover his beloved heart.
Jan pushed the doors of the church to walk inside and found
that almost everyone in The Burrow was present inside. He panicked for a second
till his searching eyes found the object of his desire. The jar. Resting in the
middle of the stage. Gramps standing to its right. Anders standing to the left.
"What is the meaning of this?" Jan asked as he
rushed up to get the jar.
Jan reached the stage and held the jar delicately in his
hands. He carressed it like a new born. Afraid that it might fall. He turned
and started walking slowly towards the exit. "Thank God," Jan
breathed.
"My children, this is what happens. This is what
happens when you do not trust me. When you do not trust the Lord. Look at this
traitor. Look at this agent of the Devil. He is the reason The Burrow has
fallen on harder times. Look at him and his abomination. Look at his fall from
grace. Look at his fall from faith. He takes the Lord's name in the same breath
as that Devil's contraption. We cannot allow this. We must not allow this. We
must put an end to the poor man's sufferings. Else we must risk more of our
Lord's fury. Else we risk dying."
By the time Gramps was done, Jan had reached the door of the
church and he had not paid attention to the speech. He however realized that
the air had changed perceptibly. Something was wrong and he instinctively
increased his pace.
"Look at him scamper. I bet he is going right back to
his den of vice to experiment in sin and fornicate with the Devil? Will we
allow that?" asked Gramps.
"We will not," replied the Buttner brothers. Then
someone else said it and soon everyone was saying it.
"Well so now my children it is time for you to take
matters in to your hands. Destroy the demon spawn! Destroy that halfwit!"
--
Jan was trying to run as fast as he could. The liquid
sloshed against the jar. It lapped against the sides and some of it got onto
Jan's grey shirt. The heart stood resolutely in the middle of the jar, beating.
Jan turned around to look at the mob moving towards him and almost tripped.
Some of them were armed with weapons. Some carried sticks and stones. Some
others had nothing but their fists. All of them looked ready to kill.
I just need to get back to my cycle-rick thought Jan. He had
parked it at the base of the hill. Jan looked back again and this time he
tripped. He clutched the jar and its lid as tight as he could. He rolled to a
stop near the base of the hill. He could see his cycle-rick. Jan got up and
examined himself. Minimal damage. He then examined the jar and let out a cry of
dismay. The jar had sprung a leak due to a giant crack on the bottom. He
hurried towards his vehicle when a stone sailed over his head. He looked back
fearfully to see a stone head straight at him.
It caught him square on the nose. Jan fell. So, did the jar.
It fell and it broke. Jan scrambled to his feet as fast as he could and
struggled to reach the fallen heart. The jar was intact but it had tipped over.
The liquid was gone. The heart had fallen on the ground and he could now hear
it beating. A faint ticking. The mob had reached the base of the hill now. It
encircled the crying Jan. Jan held the heart in his hand, cradling it like one
would cradle a baby, and cried.
The crowd parted to let Gramps through.
"Aah, you hear that people? You hear that sound?
Buttners grab that heart!"
The Buttner brothers headed towards Jan who immediately got
up and held the heart close towards himself.
"NO! Stop where you are!"
The Buttners paid no heed to Jan. One of them arm tackled
him and the other took the heart from him and tossed it over to Gramps. The
ticking startled Gramps for a second before realization dawned upon him. A
faint chuckle escaped him.
He raised the heart in one hand and shouted over the howling
wind, "Here's proof! It is not a heart like yours or mine. No thing of
flesh like the Lord hath intended it to be! It is a vile contraption of the
Devil himself. Watch!"
Gramps hurled the heart at the biggest rock on the ground.
Jan attempted to catch it but the heart hit the ground before he did. It broke
in two pieces revealing intricate machinery inside a plastic casing.
"There is your proof! This man has been fooling you, my
children! He is no miracle! This is not his heart! It is but a tool of the
Devil. Personally, I don't blame him. The Devil has deluded stronger men than
him. However, there must be a punishment for his sins. You decide!"
Even as the mob stood pondering possible punishments,
someone decided to take the initiave and hurled a stone at Jan. The stone hit
one of the Buttners. On the head. It was the younger Buttner. He died. The
older Buttner rushed to his fallen brother's body asking him to not be dead
only to find him dead. In his moment of grief, the older Buttner drew a gun and
fired in the direction of the stone thrower. There were people in that
direction and one of them was hurt and he died too. His friends and maybe
relatives retaliated and something broke. A mental barrier of sorts. The people
had had enough of faith and wonder and the winter. They wanted to break things,
hurt other people and they wanted the warmth of blood to frame their actions.
Martyn who had a rake plunged it into Jonah's stomach even
as Anders hit him in the head with a stick. The stick broke and merely infuriated
Martyn who free the rake from Jonah and raised it so as to rest it inside
Anders. At this precise moment, Bo threw a stone that hit Anders in the head
robbing Martyn of the chance to kill Anders. Martyn turned around looking for
the one who threw the stone. He had not lowered the rake yet probably because
he believed he would find the stone thrower easily. Mrs Anders saw her husband
die while standing in front of Martyn. She promptly stabbed Martyn in the back
killing him. Alin was shot in the face and her dead body was shot in the gut.
Tom chasing Mary Buttner with the intent of raping her was dispatched with a
knife through the eye and Mary Buttner herself was strangled to death by Mrs
Goodwin who wanted to do something with her hands.
And in this way, pretty much everyone killed everyone.
Gramps was shot and stoned and his body was found crucified on the cycle
rickshaw's handlebar. Predictably, someone’s heart had been cut out and left in
the jar with some red liquid which might be blood.
Someone here had a sick sense of humor. And what about poor
Jan, you ask? Did our idiot escape?
Who the fuck knows and who the fuck cares?
