We Are the Dead<\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/p>\n
By<\/p>\n
HENRY KUTTNER<\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/p>\n
A poignant, brief tale of a weird experience in Arlington Cemetery<\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/p>\n
[Transcriber’s Note: This etext was produced from
\nWeird Tales, April 1937.
\nExtensive research did not uncover any evidence that
\nthe U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]<\/p>\n
Senator Kennicott was grateful for the cool night wind on his flushed face. He wished Hobson, walking slowly at his side, would stop his interminable argument about the bill. The man\u2019s high-pitched, rather unpleasant voice seemed out of place, incongruous in the peaceful hush of Arlington Cemetery.<\/p>\n
Hobson was panting a little, his fleshy, well-massaged face creased in annoyance. The walk through the cemetery had been no hardship to the slim, whipcord body of the Senator, but Hobson was not used to walking. Kennicott had felt that a stroll homeward from the banquet would calm his turbulent thoughts, excited by the innumerable activities of Memorial Day; and Hobson, anxious to settle the matter of the bill, had rather unwillingly decided to accompany him.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt may bring us closer to war,\u201d the Senator said, breaking in sharply on Hobson\u2019s involved explanation.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot at all. It\u2019s merely preparedness.\u201d Hobson\u2019s sharp little eyes searched the other\u2019s face. \u201cWe must protect American interests in foreign countries. Surely\u2014\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut this is very\u2014aggressive,\u201d Kennicott objected. \u201cAfter all, we don\u2019t want the hatred of other countries.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, come now! That\u2019s going it a bit strong. I\u2019ve already explained how\u2014\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut\u2014war,\u201d the Senator said, looking absently at a tombstone in the distance.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019ll be no war,\u201d Hobson insisted somewhat shrilly. \u201cIf I thought this bill were really dangerous I\u2019d be the first to demand its withdrawal.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow much do you stand to make out of it?\u201d the Senator asked abruptly. \u201cWell\u2014never mind. That\u2019s scarcely a fair question. Can\u2019t we let this go till tomorrow, Hobson? I\u2019m so utterly tired!\u201d<\/p>\n
Hobson stared at him for a moment Then, choosing his words with care, he said, \u201cThe bill really should go through, Senator. I think it will\u2014assure your securing the nomination next year.\u201d<\/p>\n
Kennicott looked at him keenly, little lines bracketing his mouth. Hobson\u2019s support was valuable\u2014in fact, indispensable. If he were to withdraw it\u2014\u2014<\/p>\n
Glancing sideways at his companion, the Senator almost walked into a shadowy, slim figure that stood quietly in the darkness beneath a tall elm.<\/p>\n
A drawn, white face was turned to Kennicott, and he felt a sudden sense of shock at the agony in the dark, brooding eyes. It was a young man, almost a boy, with deep lines of pain etched in his face.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d the Senator said quickly, glancing at the boy\u2019s faded, worn khaki uniform. \u201cI didn\u2019t see you.\u201d<\/p>\n
The boy made no answer, and the Senator made a tentative movement to pass on. Abruptly the youthful, haggard face was turned away, and the boy said in a muffled tone, \u201cI can\u2019t sleep.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEh?\u201d Kennicott stared.<\/p>\n
\u201cI say I can\u2019t sleep,\u201d the boy repeated, his voice dull with pain.<\/p>\n
Hobson made a clucking sound of commiseration and glanced at the Senator.<\/p>\n
Kennicott felt a surge of sympathy. The obvious youthfulness of the boy was so incongruous with his taut face, the white tortured line of his lips.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know,\u201d Kennicott said. \u201cIt can be terrible. I had insomnia for almost a week once.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA week,\u201d the other said scornfully. \u201cThat\u2019s nothing. It\u2019s been ages\u2014\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
Kennicott was scribbling something on the back of an envelope. \u201cBe with you in a minute,\u201d he said under his breath to Hobson, who was chafing at the delay. \u201cHere\u2014any druggist can fill this,\u201d he said, giving the paper to the boy. \u201cIt will fix you up if anything can. I know how you feel,\u201d he ended sympathetically.<\/p>\n
The youth took it skeptically and thrust it into a pocket. \u201cThanks just the same,\u201d he said oddly. \u201cIt\u2019s always like this on Memorial Day\u2014it\u2019s worse then, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Hobson moved impatiently, his pale eyes flickering uneasily over the boy\u2019s form.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh,\u201d the Senator said understandingly. \u201cI see\u2014but\u2014look here, aren\u2019t you rather young to\u2014\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAm I?\u201d the youth asked. \u201cI\u2019m not so young as I look. I was in the war, all right.\u201d<\/p>\n
Hobson gave a grunt of disbelief. Even the Senator felt that the boy was lying. True, his face was worn, haggard\u2014but he couldn\u2019t be over twenty-five at most. Probably he didn\u2019t mean the World War. There were always battles going on\u2014Manchuria, South America, Africa.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell\u2014you get those powders,\u201d the Senator said after an awkward pause. \u201cI\u2019m sure they\u2019ll do the trick.\u201d He cleared his throat. \u201cCan you use\u2014\u2014\u201d He drew out his wallet rather hesitantly, but the boy was not offended.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, thanks,\u201d he said, a boyish grin suddenly appearing on his face. Then it was gone, replaced by that strained expression of pain. He suddenly seemed to notice a low, gray tombstone near by, and took a few slow steps toward it. \u201cPoor fool,\u201d he murmured very softly.<\/p>\n
The Senator looked away quickly. It was a shock to hear Hobson\u2019s high-pitched, rasping voice. Had the man no intelligence, no decency? Kennicott put up a restraining hand, but it was too late.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh\u2014come, come,\u201d Hobson was saying. \u201cDon\u2019t say a thing like that, son. It isn\u2019t right.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCome on,\u201d Kennicott urged under his breath, but the boy interrupted him.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy not?\u201d he asked, a sharp note in his tired young voice. \u201cWasn\u2019t he a fool?\u201d<\/p>\n
Hobson would try to argue with the boy, the Senator thought hopelessly. Couldn\u2019t he see that\u2014\u2014<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re too young. You don\u2019t understand what he died for\u2014what his comrades died for,\u201d Hobson said, his plump face very earnest.<\/p>\n
\u201cDoes it matter?\u201d the boy asked very quietly. \u201cThey\u2014died.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey died for something very real,\u201d Hobson plowed on. \u201cIf they could\u2014\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor God\u2019s sake, come on,\u201d Kennicott snapped, grasping Hobson\u2019s arm. \u201cLeave him alone. Can\u2019t you see\u2014\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAll right,\u201d the boy said suddenly. \u201cMaybe you\u2019re right. But\u2014let me tell you a little story.\u201d He came closer, his eyes dark and tortured. \u201cAbout a fellow who went over to France in \u201917. Just an ordinary fellow, I guess\u2014who was scared stiff when the shells started bursting around, and the machine-guns were making their racket in the dark. But he was like the rest of the fellows. He didn\u2019t dare show how much he was afraid. A sniper got him in \u201918.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Senator was uncomfortable and showed it, but to his disgust he saw that Hobson was preparing to answer the boy.<\/p>\n
\u201cWait\u2014let me finish. A sniper got him, I said, and that was fine. He didn\u2019t hear the bullets screaming over the trench, or the groaning of dying men; all the horrors were gone, and he was resting, forgetting. The darkness was kind .\u00a0.\u00a0. and then one day he awoke.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEh?\u201d That was Hobson, frankly staring.<\/p>\n
\u201cI say he woke up. Glory woke him up\u2014splendor and a stone monument that was very heavy. Bitter glory and squalid splendor,\u201d the boy went on fiercely. \u201cThey tortured and shamed him. You see, he was awake now, and he wanted\u2014God!\u2014how he wanted to forget!\u201d<\/p>\n
There were tears in the tortured eyes, and the boy brushed them away roughly with his sleeve. Then, catching his breath in a little gasp, he turned suddenly and began to walk quickly away.<\/p>\n
For a heartbeat the Senator stood silent, unmoving, staring at that slim, khaki figure receding into the gloom. \u201cWait,\u201d he called.<\/p>\n
\u201cLet him go,\u201d Hobson said, an angry undercurrent in his voice. \u201cYou can\u2019t\u2014\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
But Kennicott was remembering that white, drawn face, those brooding eyes from which all the youthfulness had been drained. \u201cNo\u2014I\u2019ve got to\u2014\u2014\u201d he said in an inarticulate aside to Hobson and took a few hasty steps forward. He saw the pale blur that was the boy\u2019s face turned toward him briefly, and the slender figure increased its pace. Ignoring Hobson\u2019s remonstrances, the Senator began to hurry after the boy.<\/p>\n
Kennicott had to exert himself to overtake his quarry, and was glad that his muscles were still firm and elastic. He saw the boy turn hastily down a side path, and broke into a run. For a hundred feet or so the path was very dark, and then it broadened out into a large clearing. At its edge Kennicott swept a searching glance around, and jerked abruptly to a halt. His jaw dropped.<\/p>\n
A moment later Hobson pounded up, wheezing a little. He paused, scrutinizing Kennicott\u2019s face. \u201cWhat\u2019s the matter?\u201d he asked quickly.<\/p>\n
The Senator did not answer, and Hobson repeated his question. Then Kennicott turned a startled, almost frightened face to his companion. \u201cDid\u2014did you see that?\u201d he asked unsteadily.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d Hobson glanced around. \u201cThe boy? He\u2019s gone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s\u2014yes, he\u2019s gone. Hobson, I\u2014I saw\u2014\u2014\u201d He brushed a hand across his eyes. \u201cHobson\u2014can a man vanish?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d Hobson stared, his mouth open. \u201cA\u2014a man\u2014\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I saw it!\u201d the Senator said earnestly, as though pleading for belief. \u201cThat boy\u2014wasn\u2019t\u2014\u2014\u201d He pointed toward a great white block in the center of the clearing. \u201cIt was right there\u2014I\u2014I saw\u2014\u2014\u201d He could not finish.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you talking about?\u201d Hobson\u2019s voice was purposely crisp and peremptory. \u201cYou\u2019re all unnerved. Come on\u2014the boy\u2019s gone. We can\u2019t stay here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou go on,\u201d Kennicott said suddenly. \u201cI\u2019m going to\u2014stay here for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n
Hobson hesitated. Then, making up his mind, he drew a paper from his pocket, held it out. \u201cHere\u2019s the bill, then. I\u2019ll phone you tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n
Kennicott made no move. He said dully, \u201cThe bill. No, no, I can\u2019t\u2014\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLook here,\u201d Hobson said furiously. \u201cYou\u2019re not going to act like a damned fool, are you? What the devil\u2019s the matter?\u201d<\/p>\n
The Senator turned to him a face of white marble and said nothing.<\/p>\n
Hobson hesitated, and then his rage pushed aside his diplomacy, his caution. \u201cBecause\u2014by Heaven, I can break you,\u201d he snarled. \u201cYou\u2019re not President yet! I can ruin your career, and you know it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know it,\u201d the Senator said quietly. \u201cBut that bill won\u2019t pass while I\u2019m in the Senate.\u201d He turned his back on Hobson and stood silently gazing at the gaunt white mausoleum in the clearing. He had spoken patriotically and at length there not six hours before.<\/p>\n
It was the tomb of the Unknown Soldier.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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