The Wooden Sea

“Why not bring him back? Why’d you let him die?”

“It was his decision. We ca

“But Old Floon killed me.”

“Floon couldn’t kill you – he met Fra

“Then who shot me?”

“Unfortunately Fra

“Think of it this way, son: In some combination there is a perfect order for these marbles. Maybe it’s a vertical line, maybe a circle, who knows? But you must find it. Francis McCabe. So far that hasn’t happened. Now it must because we need that perfect order for something important. Only McCabe in one variation or another of his life can find that flawless combination. So now it’s your turn to try. Fra

Belligerently the boy demanded, “And what if this new arrangement with Aunt Magda doesn’t work? What if I can’t find the right way to arrange your stupid marbles either?” His hand shot out to grab them from Astopel but the other’s snapped closed like an alligator’s jaws.

“You don’t want to throw these away, Gee-Gee. They’re who you are.”

“But if I don’t figure this out, you’ll bring another Fra

“Again and again until one McCabe finds it and we can add that piece to the World Machine.”

Neither had anything more to say. Gee-Gee fumed. His blood felt like it been replaced by pure adrenaline. Astopel felt pretty good. It was a fine day. He was finished working for the time being and maybe he’d go see a movie.

“If you want, we can give you something to help.” “Like what? A laxative?”

“No, a helper. Something that might help you find the solution.”

“All right, why not? I mean, why not have help?”

“Good. You’ll just have to find a way of explaining it to Magda.” Astopel brought two fingers to his mouth and whistled. A weak tweet, the sound cracked and broke as soon as it came out.

“That’s no whistle!” Gee-Gee smirked triumphantly. No one could whistle like him. Putting the same two fingers together, he let one fly that was fabulously earsplitting. Even staunch Astopel winced. When Gee-Gee saw that reaction, naturally he did it again.

Nothing happened. Gee-Gee didn’t know what to expect but not nothing. He looked at Astopel who didn’t appear concerned.

“Should I whistle again?”

“Not necessary. He’ll be coming along.”

“He” turned out be a solidly built moving object way far down the cemetery green. It was coming toward them. It was young and had two normal eyes and four normal legs this time which allowed it to trot comically. It approached with its tongue hanging out and its mouth set so that it looked like it was smiling. Maybe it was. A plump smiling dog that looked like a marble cake.

“That dog? He’s my helper?”

“You’ll be surprised how much Old Vertue knows, Gee-Gee.”

“Gee-Gee. Do I gotta live with that name forever?”

“It’s possible. But remember, for now Gee-Gee gets to live with Magda and Pauline.”

“And this fucked-up dog.”

“Still sounds like a fair trade. Well, I’m off.” The minister dropped the marbles into his pocket and without another word strode away.

Old Vertue walked over and sat down on Gee-Gee’s foot as if they were old friends. The young man was about to tell the fat bastard to get off but didn’t. Instead he looked at the high mound of fresh dirt covered only partially by a tarpaulin. For some reason no cemetery workers were around now. Only some of their brand-new shovels lay on the ground and the silent bulldozer he assumed would later be used to fill in the hole. Going over, he picked up a shovel and hefted it tentatively. Then the dog watched while Gee-Gee began shoveling dirt into Fra