“I started to say something and then fell silent. A terrible idea had come to me, and that idea was simply this: It was too convenient. Much too convenient. Christine had sat in that dark garage for years – four, eight, a dozen, more. Then – a few months before Arnie and I came along and Arnie saw it – Roland LeBay had suddenly hauled it out and stuck a FOR SALE sign on it.
Later on – much later – I checked back through issues of the Pittsburgh papers and the Libertyville paper, the Keystone. He had never advertised the Fury, at least not in the papers, where you usually hawk a car you want to sell. He just put it out on his suburban street – not even a throughfare – and waited for a buyer to come along.
I did not completely recognize the rest of the thought then – not in any logical, intellectual way, at least – but I had enough of it to feel a recurrence of that cold, blue feeling of fright. It was if he knew a buyer would be coming. If not in May, then in June. Or July. Or August. Sometime soon.
No, I didn’t get the feeling logically or rationally. What came instead was a wholly visceral image: a Venus Flytrap at the edge of a swamp, its green jaws open, waiting for an insect to land.
The right insect.
“I remember thinking he must have given it up because he didn’t want to take a chance of flunking the driver’s exam,” I said finally. “After you get so old, they make you take one every year or two. The renewal stops being automatic.”
George LeBay nodded. “That sounds like Rollie,” he said. “But…”
“I remember reading somewhere – and I can’t remember who said it, or wrote it, for the life of me – that there are ‘times’ in human existence. That when it came to be ‘steam-engine time’, a dozen men invented steam engines. Maybe only one man got the patent, or the credit in the history books, but all at once there they were, all those people working on that one idea. How do you explain it? Just that it’s steam engine time.”
LeBay took a drink of his soda and looked up at the sky.
“Comes the Civil War and all at once it’s ‘ironclad time.’ Then it’s ‘machine-gun time.’ Next thing you know it’s ‘electricity time’ and ‘wireless time’ and finally it’s ‘atom-bomb time.’ As if those ideas all come not from individuals but from some great wave of intelligence that always keeps flowing… some wave of intelligence that is outside of humanity.”
He looked at me.
“That idea scares me if I think about it too much, Dennis. There seems to be something… well, decidedly unchristian about it.”
“And for your brother there was ‘sell Christine time’?”
“Perhaps. Ecclesiastes says there’s a season for everything – a time to sow, a time to reap, a time for war, a time for peace, a time to put away the sling, and a time to gather stones together. A negative for every positive. So if there was a ‘Christine time’ in Rollie’s life, there might have come a time to put Christine away, as well.
“If so, he would have known it. He was an animal, and animals listen very well to their instincts.
“Or maybe he finally just tired of it,” Lebay finished.
I nodded that that might be it, mostly because I was anxious to be gone, not because that explained it to my complete satisfaction. George LeBay hadn’t seen that car on that day Arnie had yelled at me to go back. I had seen it, though. The ’58 hadn’t looked like a car that had been resting peacefully in a garage. It had been dirty and dented, the windshield cracked, one bumper mostly torn away. It had looked like a corpse that had been disinterred and left to decay in the sun…
“… Possibly it’s just that I would feel better knowing the car my niece choked in and my sister-in-law killed herself in had been pressed down into a cube of meaningless metal. Perhaps all I feel is a sense of outraged propriety.”
“Mr. LeBay, you said that you had hired someone to take care of your brother’s house until it was sold. Was that true?”
He shifted a little in his chair. “No, it wasn’t. I lied on impulse. I didn’t like the thought of that car back in that garage… as if it had found its way home. If there are emotions and feelings that still live on, they would be there, as well as in the car herself.” And very quickly he corrected himself: “Itself.” ” - p. 97-99, Christine, Stephen King.
I was watching 409 A Prefect Murder today, and I realized I’d never really thought about it in terms with Aeryn’s recent past, specifically the interval between season 3 & 4 as an assassin. Of course when I first watched it, and on later re-watchings, I thought about how Aeryn was being forced against her will into doing something she wouldn’t normally have done. My understanding of her as a character and the weird structure and shooting of the episode all made me think that something more was going on than was being said.
Actually, from the start, I had little concern about Aeryn’s morals - D’Argo was the only one injured who I had any emotional investment in. Under normal circumstances, Aeryn would not risk his life without his prior consent, a clearly defined goal, and without being in a much worse situation than the episode described.
However, when I thought about it in connection with 405 Promises, I felt another layer of injustice for Aeryn in this situation. It’s clear from Promises that she still believes in the causes she assassinated for - and later, in 416 Bringing Home The Beacon, we see she is willing to assassinate Grayza. To make her a brainwashed assassin feels like extra scum piled on top of what’s already there for John because he’s probably not going to come out of this looking at his past actions and feeling doubt. I don’t think Aeryn needs to doubt herself, I think it’s unlikely that she would carelessly take the word of another about someone’s actions or get greedy and rationalize her actions for the sake of money. I think she’s become very aware of how propaganda and bias affect how people tell stories. She wouldn’t let profits or intimidation sway her. In fact, if justice can be dealt through assassination, I think Aeryn Sun would be one of a small number of people who could actually do it.
Anyway, to keep it in perspective, everyone slut-shaming Chiana, D’Argo being shot, Crichton being controlled and other people being shot sucked too this episode.
Screencaps from http://www.farscapecaps.com from the episodes 405 Promises, 409 A Prefect Murder, 410 Coup By Clam, 411 Unrealized Reality, 416 Bringing Home the Beacon, 417 A Constellation of Doubt & 418 Prayer.
Just finished the first episode of Archer… Melody and Sterling Archer are my father, and that’s not to say my dad has a creepy love/hate sex thing with himself. No, he is obsessed (in a hate way, not like Dennis in Christine. If I’m gonna try to break a ghost possession on somebody, reminiscing about our ant farms is not going to be a huge part of it. I figure the ghost is more desperate and has less to lose, so I’ll just try to knock the person unconscious and try to figure out something from there) with ants.
Zhaan: “Do you hope, someday, to be Dominar, Rygel?”
Rygel: “I am still Dominar, always Dominar.”
Zhaan: “I mean ruling from a throne rather than a throne sled?”
Rygel: “They’ll never know if I kill Crichton.” screencaps and quotes from Farscape 303 - Self Inflicted Wounds: Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda at http://www.farscapecaps.com/
Jennifer Blake: “Of course it’s you. Everyone else suffers, but somehow you come out on top. And now that Scott’s an Alpha, you’ll be able to steal it from him. You’ll be an Alpha again.”
Peter Hale: “Again? Again? I am the Alpha. I’VE ALWAYS BEEN THE ALPHA!” screencaps and quotes from Teen Wolf 312 - Lunar Ellipse at http://screencapped.net/tv/teenwolf/index.php?cat=305