“Disbarred and defamed, Hollander subsequently disappeared
from polite society, only to resurface with a savage vengeance. Not
for himself, it now seems, but for the girl. Why else, authorities say,
would he have targeted the same coffee chain that pushed for her
incarceration?”
“Incredible,” the co-anchor added. “So, you’re saying that in the
end, this was all really just a love story?”
Roy shook his head to dislodge the last remaining dregs and switched
off the TV. He tried to relax by pouring himself a tall cocktail. A Black
Russian: Mexican coffee liquor and Russian vodka. Two nations
famed for violent revolution, coming together to produce a
surprisingly palatable beverage. Roy licked his lips and settled into
the soft leather upholstery. The windows were blackened,
presumably so he could not see the path that led to heaven. That
made sense. You wouldn’t want just anyone showing up.
Roy felt no remorse nor longing for the life he was leaving
behind. It had its wonderful moments, yes, but it had all been very
difficult. The struggle towards the dream, and the failure, and now it
was so relieving to leave it all behind that it made him wonder why
he had bothered in the first place. He was totally serene now. How
leisurely it was to die.
Twenty-five hundred years before, the Buddha declared that all
life was suffering. A simple inversion suggested that death would
then be release from that suffering. The capacity to suffer evolved in
organisms to force them to search out solutions, to discover ways to
increase their chances of survival. Those that struggled against the
pain were more likely to survive. Happy clams were eaten, unhappy
ones grew legs and ran away. In very general terms, Roy mused, all
evolution, all life, had been a byproduct of nature’s dissatisfied soul.
Nature must by definition remain discontent, and by extrapolation,
so must we, else perish before the face of entropy. Coffee provided a
new fuel for the fight, but it was a race in which all the drivers must
still someday crash in a heap of twisted mettle. Why get in the car in
the first place if that’s what it was all about?
Roy hadn’t the slightest idea. What difference would it have
made if he did? He would still have driven down the road, just to see
what was there. It was so nice to let someone else take the wheel now,
even if death was driving.
The car slowed down and began moving in fits and starts.
ABYSSINIA
374
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