Abahn Sabana David Read Online Free PDF

looking out the window at the darkened park.
    â€œA thousand years? A thousand years and it goes on?”
    The peals of his voice resound from the walls.
    â€œA thousand years more?”
    Sabana looks away from the park, the dark ground, the earth, when the Jew cries out.
    â€œDavid,” cries the Jew. “David, David!”
    He stops.
    Abahn comes over as well.
    â€œDavid,” says Abahn.
    Abahn does not cry out. Sabana returns. She sees that Abahn is talking to her. Sabana’s blue gaze rests on Abahn.
    Looking at Abahn, Sabana speaks to David. “David,” she says, “The Jew is speaking to you?”
    â€œYes,” says Abahn.
    Sabana leaves the Jews and walks toward David. The Jews follow behind, allow her to approach alone. They linger behind her.
    It is she who interrupts his reverie. She grabs hold of him, herhands on his shoulders. “Wake up, David. The Jew wants to talk to you.”
    David’s head sags back and falls into sleep.
    â€œDavid, the Jew wants to talk to you.”
    â€œNo,” says David, in his sleep.
    Sabana releases his shoulders. She cradles his head. The hands of Sabana on David’s head.
    â€œThe Jew is going to die, he wants to talk to you.”
    â€œNo,” says David, in his sleep.
    She holds the head of David in her hands.
    â€œHe is going to die, he wants to talk to you.”
    She speaks in even tones.
    David does not respond. He opens his eyes with a blank stare.
    â€œYou said a thousand years, why?” asks Sabana.
    David answers:
    â€œA thousand years.”
    She loosens her grip. She releases David’s head.
    She has released the head of David.
    The head stays up. The eyes remain open.
    Sabana turns, walks away.
    Abahn and the Jew talk to David.
    â€œYou said cement, ice, wind, a thousand years?”
    â€œA thousand years,” David repeats.
    â€œYou said cement, fear, cement, fear, fear, cement, a thousand years? A thousand more years?”
    David’s eyes lift toward Abahn. Their color, David’s eyes, is light blue, blue mixed with white.
    Abahn draws close to David. The Jew is behind him.
    Sabana stands over the Jew, next to him. Abahn and the Jew speak again to the sleeping David.
    â€œYou said a thousand years not hearing?”
    â€œA thousand years not seeing?”
    â€œA thousand years,” David repeats.
    â€œA thousand years the brain of an ape?”
    David’s blue eyes turn in the direction of the voice. He does not recognize it.
    â€œA thousand years the ape Gringo?”
    â€œA thousand years a killer? An ape killer?”
    They do not say more. David’s eyes are still open in the direction of the voice.
    â€œDavid, you’re David,” It is the broken voice of the Jew.
    â€œThe hunter,” says Abahn.
    â€œThe hunter,” David repeats.
    They fall silent. It must be this silence that then reveals an unease in David’s fixed gaze. He has a stunned air about him, his stare questioning. He strains toward the voice. He sleeps, he says:
    â€œThe dogs.”
    Sabana takes a step toward the Jew. She does not take her eyes away from the darkened park.
    It is Abahn who speaks to David. “You labor in the workshop of the merchants? You’re twenty-five years old? Your wife is Jeanne?”
    David responds in the same tone Abahn used, slowly and clearly:
    â€œThe dogs.”
    â€œYou’re a mason? You make cement? You work with the Portuguese? The Portuguese?”
    â€œThe dogs,” says David.
    He struggles against sleep. He articulates his words with difficulty. He finally makes a sentence.
    â€œI want the dogs of the Jew.”
    He looks toward the rest of them with growing alarm. His gaze is clear and focused. One could say his stubbornness surprises him. He says again:
    â€œI want the dogs.”
    He is quiet. He seems about to speak. He does not speak. He holds his head up. His eyes are open. He looks at Abahn with a questioning