Archive for the ‘Angela Slatter’ Category
Bone and Breath
Thursday, June 25th, 2009
They lured me here with promises of marriage. The best of men, the greatest of warriors was to be my husband.
We left my brother and sisters behind, taking the lightest chariot, the fastest horses, my mother and I. Chrysothemis and Elektra wept, covering their face with grief at our parting, but I saw their eyes, rich and dark with envy. My sisters swallowed down the bitter aloes of my marriage to Achilles, of my being chosen for such an honour.
How could we have known? Any of us, stupid girls. Stupid children. Even our mother was deceived.
We came to Aulis where Artemis had stilled the ships, all because my father had hunted sacred deer in the grove. Achilles waited, ardent, he himself taken in by my father’s promises.
Agamemnon sold me not for a bride-price but for a breath of wind.
I stepped from the chariot, all white and gold, the loveliest bride a man could hope for (if he could not have bright Helen to wife). My skin was pale, hair shining ringlets, eyes blue as the Aegean, my body ready for my bridegroom’s bond.
Father led me past Achilles, spoke to me quietly, told me it was my duty. He led me to the altar where Calchas stood, dagger in hand; where kindling had been laid in wait to carry the sacrifice upwards. Achilles wailed, a child deprived of his new toy, but he conceded soon enough to promises of greater treasure. Of his pick of the Trojan women.
My mother howled and I wondered for a moment if perhaps Hera might come to her aid. Might smite them down, all these men who thought it fair and just to cut short my life. Clytemnestra would not forgive and her vengeance would be terrible, but no more than my father deserved.
They speak of me as immortal. They say the goddess took pity on me and flew me away to Tauris, leaving a white hind in my place. They say a man there loved me, gave me children. That I had a long life far from here.
They lie. No god-blood in my veins. I was but flesh and blood, bone and breath and the blade was cold against my throat. I am another unhappy shade left to walk the dust of this earth.
Inheritance
Monday, June 15th, 2009
‘Miss Millikan?’
I can barely hear the woman for the noise in the background at her end. ‘Yes?’
‘It’s Nurse Seraph at Sacred Heart. It’s your grandmother.’
I feel the cold hollow in my stomach, where a vacuum forms. ‘Has she?’
‘Not yet, but you need to come down. The others are here and there’s a bit of a problem.’
‘What sort of a problem?’
‘You’ll see.’
The hospital isn’t far. I go on foot. The automatic doors are opening and closing erratically. Ghosts move back and forth just inside. I take a deep breath and walk through them. They’re cold and my clothes feel damp.
At the desk, a large nurse is trying to calm down a crowd of old ladies. She sees me, looks relieved. ‘Miss Millikan?’
I nod.
‘Thank God. She’s responsible for this.’ She gestures at the spectres. I recognise a couple from sepia-tinted family photos. Uncle Seth looks better dead than alive.
‘She’s just a little old lady,’ I lie.
‘She’s panicking my patients!’
‘Okay, okay.’
A great line of spirits keeps exiting Vina’s room, while she lies on the bed, comatose. My cousins stand around. Tansy sidles up to me, yellow eyes sly. ‘It’s coming out.’
Petyr says, ‘The Inheritance. It’s dissipating.’
Vala, Arthur, Jezebel and Elizabeth agree.
‘Well?’ I ask. ‘I don’t want it.’
‘We all have to be here for one to take it,’ sneers Arthur.
I stare down at the woman who raised us as harshly as she could. We grew up worse than hyenas; no love, no kindness. I don’t like them any more than I like her. I tell myself I don’t want her inheritance.
‘Take it, then, one of you,’ I say.
They look at each other, then Petyr reaches and my arm, seemingly of its own accord, shoots out and beats him. I clamp thumb and forefinger around her nostrils, and cup the other hand across her mouth and hold down tight.
She doesn’t struggle much. The silver wisps rise from her body slowly, then coalesce into a great silver arrow that shoots into my stomach and knocks me across the room. I cough silver smoke as I sit up.
All the ghosts troop back into the room and politely wait for me to stand. When I do, each steps into me and settles inside the repository of my body. I am the new well of souls.