Doorman v. Draftsman

The rain continues after the duel. The Doorman walks across the field, past the bean field, through the mud, to the door of Stetson's cabin. He wipes his shoes off as best as possible and walks inside, closing the door after him. The schnauzer scratches at the door, barking loudly for over an hour before the Doorman - until then sitting quietly, looking out the window to the grounds, as his profession would have him do - until he breaks, finds old clothes to dry the dog, and lets him in.

Not much of a reader, he ignores the books on the shelves. He turns his attention to the radio. After finally discovering how to turn it on, he listens for a short while to the cryptic radio station before turning the large dials to the public riot blotter broadcast. He listens to this before eating the remainder of the cold food left by the Dog Walker, then falling asleep.

That night the rain stops.

The next morning he and the Draftsman look west - up the mountain - to a great strands of black smoke drifting like ribbons above the horizon. They issue at different frequencies, at different lengths.

The dog scratches its ear.

I used to have a doorman, says the Draftsman suddenly, when I was a kid.

The Draftsman answers the Doorman's questioning look by pointing to a small union pin on the lapel of Doorman's shirt. The Doorman looks down and laughs.

I forgot I was wearing it! he cries.

The Draftsman asks him to recite the Doormans' Credo. The Doorman, flattered, indulges him.

The Doormans' Credo:

We are the Doormen.
And I am only the least of the Doormen.
From hall to hall there is one Doorman after another,
Each more powerful than the last.
The third Doorman is already so terrible
That even I cannot bear to look at him.
If you are so drawn to it,
Just try to go through the door
despite my veto.
But take note:
I am powerful.
I am the Doormen.

The Draftsman applauds. The Doorman takes a bow.