Oh Pure and Radiant Heart by Lydia Millet (shoe dog free ebook .txt) 📕

—Ann told me some of the followers believe we’re the Holy Trinity, said Oppenheimer.

—A certain contingent holds that view, said Szilard, nodding. —But I have recently learned that most of them are not interested in the tripartite nature of God and therefore do not have a religious interest in Fermi or me. They believe chiefly that you are the risen messiah.

—Robert. Could I have one of your cigarettes? asked Ann.

They stopped and stood still as a wave broke and rose almost to her feet. She stepped out of the way of the skirt of water and watched as he shook a cigarette out of his case for her and then lit it. When she cupped a hand over the lighter flame she noticed how Szilard’s eyes moved quickly beyond her and Oppenheimer to the Huts behind them and, far down the shore, smokestacks trailing black smoke.

—Is that a pelican? asked Oppenheimer, and pointed to a white bird flying slow along the crest of the waves.

—It is! said Ann, and they watched it plummet in a steep dive and then rise again, a small fish in its long bill. —They have herons here too, at least on Block Island. We should look for them.

—My point, said Szilard, —is that in terms of winning the hearts of Americans it may not be a mistake to allow the followers to identify us a religious movement.

—That seems a little cynical to me, Leo, said Oppenheimer, inhaling.

—Not at all, said Szilard stoutly. —We are not claiming to be believers ourselves. We have a task before us. We have a message. That is all. People are free to interpret our work as they choose. That is both their right and their privilege.

They started walking again, Ann feeling her feet to be almost equally solid as they sank into the wet sand, the weak foot forgiven. The sand could not tell the difference.

She wondered if she could live entirely in sand.

—Keep in mind, Robert, that science is an idea to these people but religion is a belief. I learned the hard way. It has taken me a long time to realize, because initially I had assumed this country was civilized.

—You won’t make that mistake again, said Ann.

Szilard ignored her.

—But in fact it only has a thin veneer of civilization. It is a country of ignorant cultists. They are grossly illiterate. Most of them cannot pinpoint New York or Los Angeles on a map. They still believe Iraq bombed the World Trade Center. Why? Because they believe anything the powerful tell them.

The tide had left a mustard-colored foam at the waterline, bladders of kelp and plastic tangled in the froth.

—In short their lack of education makes them easy pickings. These people are savages, manipulated by demagogues.

He glanced down at his watch.

—Wait! I have to get Kurt to make a call to the Boston Globe, he said, and backtracked.

Oppenheimer was looking at the tideline too as he walked slowly beside her, both of their faces turned down. Then he stopped, stricken.

—That this will all be gone, he said, stifled. —The tides will keep rolling in, but there will be no life in them. When the tide goes out nothing will be left here but old bones.

She held his arm and leaned against his side, her eyes watering. A wind came up and she closed them.

Now and then she thought she dreamed his dreams, that his dreams had been entrusted to her. Why else had she seen him before she even knew him, kneeling in the sand? Before she had even met him, when she had barely heard of him, she believed, she had been infused with his sentiment, as though it had bled from him. And here they were on the sand again, the ocean instead of the desert, on the sand with dry mouths and wet eyes, yearning.

A wave came in and wet his leather shoes, soaking a dark line across the toe.

Ben left early the next morning to visit Fermi. It was chill and quiet before the others at camp had begun to get up and Ann liked it then. There was the smell of smoke from fires the night before, dew on the tree limbs and the clean sharp cold.

—I don’t know, he said to Ann as he hunkered over the engine checking fluid levels, —I still feel it’s dangerous, leaving you with these people again.

—I’ll be fine, she said, and smiled.

She watched him sling the duffel bag over his shoulder and dumped into the passenger seat and the Toyota was pulling away. She waved at the back window and made her way back to the bus, where Larry and Tamika sat at a picnic table eating granola bars and drinking orange juice.

—Don’t even get near Leo, said Larry. —He’s pissed.

She sat down and poured cereal out of a jumbo box as Big Glen set down a carton of soy milk.

—How come?

—The Christians are having this tent revival at a fairground tonight, said Tamika. —They advertised it real big and Leo just found out about it this morning. He read a fax that came in yesterday from some sheriff’s department.

—What’s the problem? asked Ann.

—He’s pissed because they didn’t ask his permission.

—Where is he?

—He and Oppie went to meet Bradley to talk about it.

After she finished her cereal she wandered out of the bus enclosure toward the pavilion where Bradley had set up his office. Two Huts stood outside guarding it, but beside them were other men in camouflage gear, each holding a rifle across his chest.

—Who are you guys? she asked curiously.

When they said nothing a Hut leaned in close to her.

—They won’t talk to anyone but Bradley.

—Are you kidding?

—They’re not professionals, said the Hut, while the men in camouflage stared straight ahead of them pretending to ignore the conversation. —They’re volunteers. Let’s just say they’re enthusiastic.

She looked closely at the nearest rifleman, whose pale skin was tinged red with acne. His hair was cut short and military and