Let There Be Light
EXCERPT
How cold the air was, and how I fought to stay warm in those first minutes. I don’t think I’ve ever forgiven the world for that. And that’s a part of my success. The rage, the thirst for vengeance, the insatiable appetite for more, more, more. Nothing is ever enough for me. That’s what makes the great great, isn’t it? Never settling for anything less than everything. Everything. That’s a nice word. Says it all. Every thing. But the danger wasn’t over because, before I knew what was happening, I was dashed to the ground in a whoosh of sudden movement; the wind whipping against my soul, almost dragging it right out of me. It might be the end before I had even really begun — like the baby that dies before its baptism, damned for all eternity — not that there’s any baptism in my world, no thanks; keep your liquid refreshment, those sloppy water sports, and showers, all the pathetic attempts at hygiene, away from me. (And speaking of hygiene, I should say that if a cleansing is what you’re looking for, then I’m your man. I kill the bugs and the viruses, the parasites and bacteria, all those nasty things.) But I’m digressing from the most important part of the story, the pivotal moment, I think what the novel-writing books call “the dark night of the soul”. And nobody abhors the darkness more than me. I like that other book, the one that begins: “Let there be light!” Now that’s my kind of story. God was on to something there. Let there be light. Maybe that flashed through my mind as I whipped through the air, and the wind was so strong it was near impossible to breathe, and I clung to the rope, desperate not to let go. When I hit the bottom, it felt like the world — not just my world, but the whole thing — was ending. And as I lay guttering and sputtering on the floor, with death approaching and the darkness closing, I saw my one chance hanging from a rail and coming down to meet me. I stretched out a tiny hand, really quite feeble in its pathetic smallness, but still, I stretched it out. Those baby fingers of mine, wrapped around the bottom of the curtain, grabbed hold and pulled me up. And once there, my fingers were everywhere, ripping the fabric and stuffing it in my mouth. Oh, I was greedy. Hungry. Ravenous. Taking it all in. Everywhere all at once, running and jumping and grabbing and eating. Driven by the need for more.