Bassoonist v. Beekeeper

The wind picks up. It whips from the southwest.

His coat blown by the wind, the Bassoonist crouches by the body of the Beautician.

The Bassoonist is a man defined by exceptional abilities. He - unlike most other bassoonist - has the ability to play several of Bach's Goldberg Variations on the bassoon. He also - unlike most other sensible people - has the ability to find pronounced romance in situations that lack all romance, as, for example, the brief non-romantic relationship between he and the Beautician.

He strokes her cheek.

He drags her past the bodies still on the field - the Beadle, the Beader, the Bank Teller, the Bassist, the Basketmaker, the Bartender, the Barber, and the Banker - to the cold pyre. The crows scatter. The rats scurry. He drags her through the ash and bones to lay beside his broken bassoon. The symbolism in this is almost too much for the Bassoonist to bare.

Returning to the oak, he searches the area for the matches. Unable to find them, he begins searching the pockets of the dead. Finally, checking the Banker's shirt pocket, he pulls the box.

He returns to the pyre, collects fallen branches that fell on the field before the fence and timber from the fence. He returns the pyre and using the Beautician's jacket, starts the fire. It burns, and cooks her, but not nearly enough to turn her to ash. More a broiling. He gets more timber and piles it atop. The fire roars now. She cooks, emanating foul odor.

As the Bassoonist stokes the fire, he hears a muffled beeping. It continues, incessantly, for over five minutes.

Finally, taken from his romantic revelry, more annoyed than curious, the Bassoonist searches among the corpses for the beeping. He stands over the bloated corpse of the Astronaut, raises the Astronaut's arm, and unbuckles the beeper on his belt. He looks at the message - CALL HQ ASAP, then (without much pause) presses the off button. The beeping stops. He drops the beeper and, after stopping to meditate at the site of the pyre again, returns to the oak.

The Beekeeper, a patrician woman of middle age and shortish hair and a gold broach in the shape of a bee pinned to the lapel of her blouse, walks across the field from the road. They greet each other.

Given the demur, taciturn nature of the Beekeeper and the awkward, preoccupied state of the Bassoonist, no conversation is made. They simply choose their guns (politely) - the Bassoonist takes the nicked gun - and take the field, standing ten paces apart.

They raise their guns. Their guns go off.