CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The Curate Dies

On the sixth day of being trapped inside the house, I remember looking out the hole into the pit and realizing that the curate was nowhere to be seen. I ran back into the kitchen storage area and found him drinking a bottle of wine. I took it from him and we began to fight. Finally, I pushed him back into the kitchen and refused to let him into the storage room. From that day on, I told him, I would be controlling the food and drink since he was no longer capable of controlling himself.

For a day-and-a-half, he and I fought with one another, sometimes with fists and sometimes with words. I tried to make him understand that we needed the food to last us a couple more weeks, but he had gone completely mad. He was practically an animal, so violent were his attacks on me at times. However, I succeeded in preventing him from entering the room. Finally, on the last day, he began to talk loudly. I tried shutting him up, but there was nothing I could do.

He went on about how poorly he had served God and then he would come back to the idea of food. He begged and then, when I would not be persuaded, threatened. He said that he would run to the hole and get the Martians attention if I did not give him more food. This frightened me, but I still stood firm at the entrance to the storage room. He then began to raise his voice, louder and louder.

"Shut up, man!" I whispered.

"Oh, God has forgotten his children! Speak to me Lord! Ah, yes, the time has come for me to go! I know now what I must do. I am coming you horrible beasts from Hell! I am coming, you hear? God has made it his wish and I must follow! Come, my blood is ready for your awful mouths!" he shouted as loudly as he could and began walking toward the hole in the wall.

I knew that the Martians must have heard this and I became so angry that I grabbed the largest knife in the kitchen and ran after him. I was ready to kill, but at the very last moment I turned the knife's blade away from him and struck him on the back of the head to knock him out. Then I heard the sound of approaching metal and the kitchen suddenly grew darker. In a moment, I could see the digging machine right outside the hole. One of its long arms suddenly came into the kitchen, feeling along the floor and walls. Then, on the other side of the hole, I could see, inside the machine, behind a sheet of glass, the eyes of a Martian. I ran back into the storage area, wondering whether it had seen me or not.

I opened the door to the coal storage area and hid in there, listening silently to the sounds of the machine's metal arms searching the kitchen. Then came the sound of a body being pulled across the floor. I knew that the Martian had found the curate's body. I could not control myself any longer, my curiosity was much too great. Quietly, I opened the door to the storage area and crawled out to see what I could. Looking around the doorway, I saw the curate's body laying face down, his head already through the hole in the wall. The Martian was examining his head very carefully. Then, very suddenly, the idea came to me that the curate's head injury might reveal my presence to the Martian. Immediately, I crawled back into the coal storage room, shut the door and began to bury myself under the coal and firewood inside.

The sound of the metallic arm slithering across the stone floor came closer and closer. It was now in the main storage area, feeling the door to the coal room. A terrible feeling of fear ran through my whole body. Then the door slowly opened and the arm came sliding in like a snake, examining the coal, as well as the walls. I could not believe that the Martians knew how to handle our doors! At one point, the arm actually touched my shoe. I wanted to scream, but forced my mouth to stay closed. Then the arm stopped moving and the room was silent for quite a while. So much time passed that I was no longer sure if it was still in the room with me. Then I heard it take hold of something. I thought that it had grabbed me, but I could not be sure. It soon became clear that it had taken hold of a piece of coal to examine.

Soon the door closed and I could hear the sound of breaking bottles as the arm moved back into the kitchen. I stayed in that little room, covered in coal and wood, for a whole day and night. I did not know whether the arm was waiting for me to reveal myself, or whether it had gone back to working. So, I remained there, terribly thirsty and hungry until the eleventh day.

(end of section)