Pie Excerpt from JASON OF THE APES

He eased himself down from the tree and followed a line of shadow to his back door. He opened it. It had not been locked. What was there to steal, except Clayton’s delicacies? There would always be more of those. He padded into the bathroom, turned on the shower, waited for it to be warm. The luxury of being warm at night, the luxury of warm clean water almost made his knees buckle. Clayton had been busy, and there were white towels and tooth paste and a razor and a white rug on the floor and even a little elephant-shaped vase with a fake flower in it. Jason stood in the shower rubbing himself until he thought the hot water must surely run out, but it didn’t. Clayton had provided big white soap with a white smell, so he didn’t even have to turn on the lights to find it. His toes dug into the floor. He liked being wet. He draped a towel over his shoulders and went to the kitchen. Inside the fridge his faithful friend had stored the uneaten Specials of several nights at High Table. Jason pulled one of the boxes out and set it on the table. A smell came from it like– pie. It was pie. Pecan pie with two inches of mocha whipped cream on top. Jason’s body began to cry, it was that hungry, and the pie that far beyond adequate. Jason wanted to scold his body for showing such weakness, but, finally, he understood. He looked in the cupboards for plates, and there they were. Flatware, Napkins. A cup in case he wanted something hot to drink. A tea kettle. He knew if Clayton were left alone he would provide everything. Night was right that he didn’t deserve such friends, but he had them, so there was nothing left but to use what they had brought.
The kitchen window had a good view of the forest. Only his bedroom had a better one. Night wore the wobbly moon in the middle of himself like a great pendant. Night boiled at the edges with breezes and the tribulation of stems under the burden of their dark flowers. Night moved and stood still at once. Night looked like he was over among the trees, but he was there, too, against the kitchen window, waiting for his friend to come and play. Night was a child and a god. The First before all. Jason said holy and the night bowed a little, acknowledging. Jason said, Holy and beautiful night, be my cover, be my friend, be my lover. There is nothing like you. Bid me enter. Bid me hide in you, and be safe.
Night’s silence was assent.
He turned from the window and, led by smell alone, returned to the pie. He let his face fall into it, mouth open, gobbling like a beast. It was not possible to get enough inside at once.

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