The Witching Snakes pt 13

The picnic ends abruptly. Agatha's True Nature is Revealed. A Lament

Read Part 12

“Yes,” said Agatha, “I would very much like to go to the Sunken Gardens.”

Paul wondered if she had always sounded so formal. He ate his sandwich. Mary and Agatha talked about rental properties. Rick tried to talk to Paul about sports. The Vikings had a good chance this year. Paul could follow along and agree.

Paul smelled warm salt. Dew clung to branches. Mayonnaise smoked ham. Paul saw the barbecue grill. He wanted to leave his family with his beloved; join a group of strange drunks, fat with porky fingers.

Agatha took Paul's hand. Rick was talking about race riots. Paul and Agatha walked together. They were in love and they did not want to know about the fiddles. Paul hallucinated cherry blossoms. He heard a Lutheran minister singing “The cherry blossom petals are scattering and the warbling nightingale is a-waling."

At noon, the family entered glasshouse gardens where the sun diffusion blanketed the halls. Rick spoke of monastic caves. Paul heard a wistful tone. Rick called the monks “stupid fucks". Paul loved the flowers - reds and the blue, the beauty of Agatha in her white leather jacket and white blouse and white skirt.

“I thought that I was too cynical,” said Paul.

“You were. You are,” said Mary.

“I'm not cynical. Not really.”

“Yes. You are.”

“No. Just about the stupid shit that you like - hair products and business and real estate. Just because I don't care about bullshit doesn't mean I'm cynical. Means that I'm human.”

“Paul,” said Rick as if in warning.

“Rick,” said Paul.

“Don't talk that way to your sister.”

“This is beauty," said Paul, "This place is beautiful; I find love. Even among the absurdities, I feel peace. Rick can't bother to appreciate pure serenity, but he has time to scold me.”

Rick didn't respond. Rick's face seemed to collapse. Paul suspected that Rick genuinely liked him. Did Paul hurt his feelings? Paul wanted to apologize. He resisted the temptation.

Planners and engineers had crafted the Sunken Gardens with care. Every flower reminded the visitors to stay. Outside, they would only find a broken zoo with sad polar bears. They should have planted monasteries everywhere. Warbling cellos echoed from a distant room. Flowers popped out in a riot of green and red and pink. The center paths held flowing water. Elderly visitors threw coins and children fished them out. As the group moved into the northern enclosure, they water foam, bubbling among small fish.

Paul saw the old man first. He marveled at the long white hair, plaid shirt and limp. He didn't see his sister and brother-in-law nodding. The man was approaching. Agatha began shaking and Paul put his hand on her shoulder. He barely heard the shouting.