Patrick Higgins: Thirst

Thirst

The persistence of thirst is remarkable. Hunger waxes and wanes gradually, but not thirst. Thirst pricks at the throat with full constancy, relenting only with the action of drinking. Realizing this, Amnon turned from the dance to seek wine to satisfy his parched throat. He crossed the room, now passing dancing couples of his own estate. Some he didn't know, but most were acquaintances or friends. As he neared the opposite end of the room, he found himself amongst those of the less noble estate, who always stayed close to the food and drink, and also danced closer together, both in that the woman and man were close, and also that each couple was close, so that walking between them was difficult. As he threaded between these couples, the men looked at him fearfully and gripped their dates tighter. The women saw him and smiled. Amnon had known most of these women. Dirty, every last one of them. Hang on men like drapes yet move from one to another like butterflies. Amnon reached the long table lined with bottles of wine and selected a fine burgundy. He began pouring the wine into a glass.

"Good evening, Amnon," a voice said behind him. Amnon turned his head and saw that it was his half-sister, Tamar, who had addressed him. "Hel.." he had started to say but stopped when he felt the cold, wet wine run across his arm on to his sleeve. Seeing what had happened, Tamar exclaimed, "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have distracted you. Let me help clean you."

Amnon urged, "Don't worry. It was my fault. I shouldn't have looked until I was ready."

"Let me have your hand," Tamar said gently. Amnon raised his hand to her, both sleeve and skin stained scarlet. Tamar took a napkin and wiped Amnon's hands clean and began blotting at his sleeve. She stains her white napkin to clean me. How kind.

"I think I've gotten most of it. You really should take this shirt and have it washed immediately so it won't stain." Tamar stood and looked into Amnon's eyes. Amnon looked back.

"Yes, but not before we dance. I have danced but twice tonight, and it would be a shame to leave now."

"Agreed. Plus, I cannot say I know you well, perhaps by dancing we can come to know each other better."

Amnon reached and took Tamar's hand and led her to the border between higher and lower estate and began to waltz with her. As they spun, they talked, but Amnon spoke on reflex. So gentle, and pure. She moves in my arms like liquid, soft, smooth, and flowing. Smells so clean, like river banks laden with blooming brush. As they spun, now facing the higher estate, now the lower, Amnon looked at the lower women. Dirty, nasty bitches. Their filth is all over me. I'm dirty. She's kind. She cleans me when I'm dirty. Her clean napkin has made me clean. She'll clean me with her innocence. Now I'm dirty. Now I'm sick. I'm sick. Filthy. Sick.

"Are you all right, Amnon? Suddenly you look ill." Amnon made no answer, he just went outside. "He must have drank too much."

Amnon stumbled past the gate and fell to his knees in the wet grass. He looked at the grass, but couldn't see the grass as grass. It moved too much. Then he threw up and things became clear enough to make it to his room, where he fell asleep.

When Amnon awoke the sun had risen and was shining the square pattern of the window on his floor. He looked out and saw the beautiful golden leaves, sunlight glinting off their polished surface. The pristine, clean dew shone vibrantly in the early sun off the yellowing grass in the field. At a distance, Amnon could see that the stream was flowing smoothly, the sun showing itself sweetly on its placid surface. Everything was bright and brilliant except his room. His room was dark, the floor dingy, the air musty. Only his small window of sunlight made him happy, but it was not enough. He lay in his bed again, feeling dirty.

Soon there came a gentle knock at his door, and Amnon called, "Enter." The door slid forward slowly, then stopped and Tamar stepped in from the narrow opening, wearing a brilliantly white dress. The dress radiated a luster that made the room look brighter.

"Brother Amnon, I have come because I am worried that you are not well. I have brought food for you to eat, if it is true that you are ill and in need of nourishment. You departed my company swiftly and without explanation last night. Are you well?"

The sun sees her innocence. It follows her. "No, sweet Tamar. I am sick. Your care and food will go far in helping me. Thank you."

"I am sad to hear of it, and will gladly aid you in recovery." Tamar stepped next to the bed and put the basket of food next to it. She pulled some bread from it and began to feed it to Amnon, which he took feverishly.

She heals me through the mouth, but my mouth isn't dirty. The happy sun should follow me, but I'm dirty. She can clean me with her innocence. I must taste her innocence. Gripping Tamar's forearm, Amnon begged, "Come to bed with me, pure Tamar."

Tamar's face became a pleading frown. "No, do not make me sleep with you. I am innocent and you shouldn't defile me." Amnon began pulling her toward him. "Amnon, please don't do this to me. I have been nice to you. You are my brother. How can you bring yourself to stain my innocence? We could wed, I believe my father would allow it. If you would just stay your desires and not foul me, please. I beg you."

Dirty so long, so long. Sun sets tonight. Must have it. It must follow me. Following innocence, I must take her innocence.

With a fierce sudden jerk, Amnon pulled Tamar into bed with him and took the dress from her. She made no sound and struggled very little. Amnon did not notice the tears. Amnon felt a growing joy as he looked about his room and saw that it grew brighter with every stab of innocence he took. Almost have it. Sun so brilliant I can't see. Eyes closed yet still white flashes. Why flashes? But even now they last longer. Constant when I have it. Yes, here it comes. Here it is. It's so great I feel nothing else. One solid burst not burst, sustained. What? Darker? Amnon opened his eyes, and the wind blew strong, shaking the window so that the small hook that stayed the curtains shook violently, and then detached. The curtains swung down and covered the window. Amnon jumped up and frantically looked about, yet the former light of the room had faded everywhere. Not innocent? He looked at Tamar and saw the drops on the sheets. He then looked at himself, and touched himself, and bringing his hands to his face, saw that they were scarlet.

Stained by her innocence such that the sun shines not on me. I have her curse, not her innocence. Evil trickster pretends to be innocent when she is cursed.

"Foul bitch! How dare you stay in my presence after working such deception as this? Leave, now!"

"Do not make me go, Amnon. Though wronged by you, I am yet willing to marry you, that this sin may not be such a stain on our souls. And of..."

"Marriage? Marriage is the playground for the blind. The children play and enjoy each other, yet do not know if the others are clean. They can only know by getting close enough to taste the others, and so know what is on their skin. Yet I have tasted you, and you are filthy. You deceive."

"And of this deception, how have I deceived you?"

"Woman, your very nature is one of deception. Oh, would that God had made some way to distinguish the cursed and the innocent, since the eye is too weak to see. What need you ask about marriage? What fool would willingly marry a cursed woman?"

"That I am cursed I do well believe, for Fortune's wheel does not crush the blessed. Yet this curse is not my curse, but was given me by you. I ask that you let me stay and so undo my curse."

She lies. The trickster isn't finished. She hasn't got me yet. In a fierce flash of anger, Amnon grabbed Tamar and threw her onto the floor. Sensing the extent of her danger, Tamar got up and ran out of the room. Amnon went to the wash basin and began to furiously scrub at his hands. Gone not gone. I feel blood, but don't see. Amnon had become quite thirsty from all his activity, and finally raised water to his lips in cupped hands and drank, but the water tasted sour to him, and he vomited.

Once outside, Tamar quickly ducked behind some bushes and clothed her naked body. She cried as she did so, and felt the wetness running cool and clean across her cheeks. She sighed and breathed deeply and felt the pure air of the outside cleansing her lungs. Her body hurt terribly and her mind felt numb, but she breathed easily. She became calm enough to walk, and yet she still could not think, so she did not know where she was going.

Tamar came to the banks of the stream, and the golden light reflecting off the surface attracted her, and she undressed to get in. the cool water stung at the toes as she took her first step, then at her calves on the second. When the water had reached her waist, the pain of the violated region was so great that her knees gave and the stream was at her neck. When gentle Tamar finally slid her head under the surface, the water was no longer cool, but now felt warm, and she realized it. She realized what had happened, and the water felt good. She splashed water everywhere on her body, and drank deeply of it, and the beautiful stream alleviated her pain.

The arrow whizzed through the air, hitting the tree and making a very satisfying sound of reverberation which told Absalom that he had hit his mark. Absalom leisurely paced toward the tree, appreciating the serene morning in the forest, glad he had come to practice his skills. But then he heard a sound, one that would instill a burning in him that could not be quenched. It was a splashing, as young animals sometimes make in their frivolities, and Absalom decided to sneak up to the river and see what game he might shoot.

When Absalom first caught sight of Tamar, he couldn't identify her. Is that. Yes, she is naked. What luck. Bathing? Why so fiercely? Watch, or assist? Watch. She's beautiful. Why thrash? That's not right. Help. Help. Absalom approached the stream, and when he had gotten closer, he recognized his sister and ran to her, calling when he reached the edge of the forest. Tamar stopped her splashing and simply looked at him with an austere countenance. They stared one at the other for an awkward stretch of time, and Absalom knew she had been wronged. "Sister," he said, "what has happened? Who has hurt you?"

"Do not be angry, my brother," Tamar pleaded.

"What you say worries me. Again, I ask, who has hurt you?"

"Again I beg that you not be angry. Such news as I have can hurt even those who are not involved."

Absalom put his hands over his head, begging, "Tamar, you must tell me. If you have been wronged then I am automatically involved, for you are my sister and I love you dearly. I must see that your wrongs are set right."

"That is what I feared. Because you're my brother I feel I must tell you who violated me, but I ask you to restrain yourself from vengeance."

"Oh, this is what I feared. Violated! This crime merits a swift death."

"No, it does not and you will not deal one."

"Are you mad? Has this crime altered you so that justice is no longer clear in your mind?"

"The crime has undoubtedly altered me forever, but not in reason. This water has cleaned my thoughts and I see that justice lies in amends, not murder."

"And what do you seek in amends? What was taken from you cannot be given back."

"If you kill him, he will take it with him to the grave, where no one can get to it."

"But again, you can never get it back anyway," Absalom insisted.

"Never as it was, but it can be partially restored through amends," Tamar answered calmly, gently.

"What you say is ridiculous! You cannot be partially restored to virginity! It is whole or nothing, there are no halves!"

"I refer not to virginity but to my injury."

"Likewise, you either are injured or not, and your injury cannot be erased."

"The injury will always exist, but the degree of damage is variable. I aim to lessen it."

"And so do I, your rapist dies! Reveal his name."

"You are too eager for wrong action. Come, bathe in the river with me, and drink. You will find yourself calm, and clear of mind."

"I won't approach anything that can so warp the mind as to make one love his enemy," Absalom sternly stated.

"Love is life, my brother, and anything which imparts it is a gift of God. Therefore, stay your tongue."

"I say life is pain, and I shall deal pain to he who tried to force your love, and so gave you pain."

"Your reasoning is false, brother. If life is pain, taking away life takes away pain."

"So say that life is love. Taking away life takes away love. This is justice."

"Love is the one thing about humans that is eternal. It cannot be taken away. That is why you must not kill Amnon. He despises me now. I must admit that I too resent him. I seek to change that, to understand him, forgive him, and love him. If you kill him now, our mutual hate will never find resolution."

"You have betrayed your purpose. I now know it was Amnon who raped you."

"I told you because I see you are moved. Yet your understanding is not complete. Come in the water with me, and drink, and your desire for revenge will be quenched."

Witchcraft fools many. Tricks the ears, tricks the eyes. Reason? Yes, tricks this, too. Tricks not me. The stream won't claim me. Not before I claim Amnon. Yet I've been in this stream before. Little boy swimming. Strong currents pull hard. Tamar's arm pulls harder though. I trust her. Absalom waded into the stream slowly, part by part, finally submerging the head. When he came up, Tamar looked at him and asked, "Do you see truth? Do you wish harm on Amnon?"

"Yes, I understand. Adding pain to pain nullifies neither, only destroys the opportunity for healing. Amnon will see no harm at my hands."

"Good Absalom. You are a true and loving brother. Now I must get home before anyone becomes suspicious. You know as well as I that we don't want others involved. The cost would be his life."

"I understand."

Absalom got out of the stream first and put on his clothing, then went back to the forest to shoot, understanding his role was to wait. He lined up before the tree, and taking his bow, drew to the middle grip. As he released, Absalom thought, "Why did she want me to drink? I see truth though I did not."

Now that he was outside, Absalom realized how bad his vision was. In the party he could still see because things were close and bright. They still moved, but in the dark and at such distances, he couldn't keep track of anything. He stumbled, but an arm caught him. Wha? Ohhhh, the pretty girl. Where? party. Why? Think. Home. "Home," Absalom mumbled.

"That's right, I'm taking you home," she slurred.

The drunken man and his escort eventually reached his house. This escort, being a common woman sweetened by alcohol, soon showed Absalom his bed. They were too drunk for talk and just got in. When Absalom felt the growing tingle, he looked at her. Pretty girl. Sweet smile. Eyes. Eyes. Sweet understanding eyes. Eyes like. Like...like Tamar. She is Tamar. Innocent Tamar. NO! Dirty. Dirty whore. "You're not like her!" Absalom screamed and then slapped the girl.

"Not like who?" she sputtered.

Absalom answered with a punch which left the girl unconscious. Perfect Tamar. Ruined. Ruined like this whore. Ruined by Amnon. I'll ruin him.

Absalom still felt the effects of his drinking, but had been sobered enough by the sex and violence to walk alone. He staggered out the door, taking his bow with him. A short while later, Absalom found himself at the same door Tamar had entered early one morning five years before. And just like five years before, the door was not locked. Absalom slowly opened it, and stepped in when the crack was wide enough. He saw the sleeping Amnon on his bed, facing him, and smiled. Dirty bastard. Now I take back her innocence. He slipped the bow from his shoulder and held it by the middle grip. Slotting the arrow and drawing, his grin became wide. He paused for a long moment, and then released, and as he did so, he frowned. Absalom's arrow missed the throat and caught Amnon in the shoulder. Amnon screamed in great agony, but Absalom was already upon him, making good his mark by hand. "And now you thirst for air, Amnon, but this will go unquenched."

After Amnon's legs quit shaking, Absalom looked at himself. He was covered in the blood from Amnon's shoulder. Knowing that he had to flee elsewhere, Amnon left and now walked to the stream. He placed a foot in the stream, and the water was hot. He suddenly dove in and found the water scalding. Scrambling out, Absalom realized he was sober, and thirsty. He bent to the river and sipped, but the water was bitter to him, and he became ill. I don't have it. I have a curse.