Chapter 17 Two Days And Six Hours

On the eighth day of the fifteen Trenn Balcombe came home at the second hour, which was early, and she came home with her lunch box in one hand and her reading spectacles in the other and the list in her coat pocket, and she set the lunch box on the table and she sat down and she took the list out of her pocket and she put it on the table and she turned it face up. "She is two days and six hours from the rolls," Trenn said. "Then we have two days and six hours." "No. The rolls marked her on the twenty-second. She has been two days and six hours from the rolls for twelve days. The two days and six hours is what she has left, not what she has had, and the left is what the rolls took, and the taking was the fifth sentence, and the fifth sentence is written, and the writing is the rolls, and the rolls are wrong." "Then what is left." "I do not know what is left. That is the question. The rolls say exhausted and recovered nothing and owed nothing and the standing is 1174 and the metal is two hundred and forty and the two hundred and forty is two days and six hours and the two days and six hours is the walking and the bread and the coal and the stair and the boy in the weir and the not going, and the not going is the short book, and the short book is over, and the over is two days and six hours, and two days and six hours is eleven days short of the nineteenth of the third month." "Then she has eleven days." "She has eleven days that the rolls have not spent, and the rolls will not spend them, because the rolls have spent what the rolls spend, and the rolls have spent two hundred and forty Hours, and the rolls have not spent the eleven days, and the eleven days are hers, and the hers is the not spending, and the not spending is the short book, and the short book is over, and the over is the eleven days." Avelin was at the table with her arm under her sleeve and the stillness under her palm and the bread in front of her. She did not move. She did not read the list. She did not weigh the bread. She sat there with her hand flat on the wood, and the wood was the wood of the table, and the table was the table of the house. "Then what do I do with eleven days," she said. "I do not know what you do with eleven days. I know what I will do with eleven days. I will not go to the foundry. I will not take the ledger. I will not ask. I will go to the house on the morning and I will come to the house in the evening and I will eat the bread and I will read the list and I will count the days, and I will count the eleven days, and the counting will be mine, and the mine will be the not asking." "Trenn." "Yes." "I have two hundred and forty Hours that the rolls have taken without my consent, and the two hundred and forty Hours are two days and six hours of the metal, and the metal is stopped, and the stopping is the rolls, and the rolls are wrong, and the wrong is 1174, and the 1174 is on my arm, and the 1174 is on the card, and the card is in the drawer, and the drawer is under the table, and the table is in the house, and the house is on Vail Street, and Vail Street is on the long street, and the long street goes to the Yard, and the Yard has a bench, and the bench is mine, and the bench has been mine for eleven years and three days, and the bench will be mine for two days and six hours, and the two days and six hours are gone, and the gone is the rolls, and the rolls are wrong." "Then what do you do with the gone." "I do not know what I do with the gone. I know what I will not do with the gone. I will not sign the fifth sentence. I will not go to the Yard on the nineteenth of the third month. I will not sit at the bench. I will not let the rolls write the fifth sentence. I will not let the rolls keep the fifth sentence. I will not let the rolls read the fifth sentence back to me, because the rolls will not read it back, and the not reading back is the keeping, and the keeping is the wrong, and the wrong is 1174." "Then what will you do." Avelin looked at her daughter. She looked at the list on the table, and the list had nine lines, and the ninth line had nothing on it, and the nothing was the date, and the date was gone, and the gone was the rolls, and the rolls were wrong. "I will do what Nyall does," Avelin said. "I will not ask. I will not count. I will not write. I will sit at this table for eleven days and I will eat the bread and I will hold the ladder and I will eat the apples and I will read the list and I will let the metal stop and I will let the rolls be wrong and I will let the fifth sentence be unwritten and I will let the ninth line be nothing and I will let the nothing be the thing, and the thing will be the eleven days, and the eleven days will be mine, and the mine will be the not signing." Trenn looked at the list. She looked at the ninth line. She picked up the pen, and the pen was the foundry pen, and the pen was grey, and she put the pen to the ninth line, and she did not write on it, and she put the pen down. "I have counted nine lines," Trenn said. "I have counted nine lines." "I have counted the ninth line as nothing." "I have counted the ninth line as nothing." "Then I will not write on the ninth line." "Then you will not write on the ninth line." "Then the ninth line is nothing." "Then the ninth line is nothing." "You will count it as nothing." "You will count it as nothing." "And the nothing stays on the list." "And the nothing stays on the list." "And the list stays on the table." "And the list stays on the table." "And the table stays in the house." "And the table stays in the house." "They ate the bread at the table with the afternoon coming through the cloth, and the step was dry, and the coal was on the step, and the list lay face up between them. Trenn had stopped counting at the ninth line, and the ninth line was empty, and the empty was where the date had been, and the date was gone, and the gone had been the rolls, and the rolls had written what the rolls wrote. Avelin looked at her daughter across the table. She looked at the pen that Trenn had set down without writing, and she looked at the foundry ink in the corner of the page, and she looked at the ninth line that her daughter had measured out for the thing that had no name. "Eleven days," Avelin said. "Eleven days." "Then we will sit for eleven days." "We will sit for eleven days." "And we will not write." "We will not write." "And we will not ask." "We will not ask." "And we will not go to the Yard." "We will not go to the Yard." "And we will not sign." "We will not sign." "And the rolls will be wrong." "The rolls will be wrong." "And the wrong will be 1174." "The wrong will be 1174." "And 1174 will be on your arm." "1174 will be on my arm." "And 1174 is not zero." "1174 is not zero." "And the not-zero will be the thing you kept." "The not-zero will be the thing I kept." "And the thing you kept will be the little." "And the little will be the end." "And the end will be yours." "The end will be mine." They ate the bread at the table with the afternoon going through the cloth, and the step stayed dry, and the coal stayed on the step, and the jar sat empty at the corner of the list, and the list stayed on the table, and the ninth line stayed empty, and the empty stayed where the date had been. Nyall had not asked the question at the door, and Trenn had not asked at the table, and Avelin Cindermill had not asked of either of them, and the three not-asking were the short book, and the short book was over, and the over was the rolls, and the rolls were the rolls of the Hourhouse at Draymoor, and Draymoor was on the long street, and the long street went to the Yard, and the Yard was quiet, and the Yard had a bench in it, and the bench had no ruler on it, and the ruler was with a man who was walking. ---