The Lost Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, the Unbelievable -- Tim Jones

The saying that 'good things come in small packages'
is a cliché but one that some would suggest Stephen
Donaldson take to his heart and clench there. Luckily
for us Tim Jones is a master at saying a great deal
with very few words. Now that Stephen Donaldson has
not only signed a contract to write further Covenant
books but agreed to a movie deal it seems entirely too
appropriate to include Tim's mini epic here

Thomas Covenant, ur-Lord, Unbeliever, tragic saviour of the Land, White Gold Wielder. Surely reason enough for two colossal trilogies by Stephen Donaldson, whom the Washington Post hailed as 'comparable to Tolkein at his best` (Whose best? Donaldson's, or Tolkein's?) But, ruling any possible .sequels out of contention, rnight there be a third, earlier trilogy, placing Covenant in a strikingly different situation? Who can say that the answer might not be... 'Yes'?

We present…

THE LOST CHRONICLES OF THOMAS COVENANT, THE UNBELIEVABLE

What follows is an excerpt from the first volume of the trilogy, magnificently titled Thomas Covenant Goes Shopping!

...Staggering under the weight of the choices he must make, Covenant reached the portal of the supermarket. He paused for a moment, almost overwhelmed by the massive nothingness, the blank significance, of the automated sliding doors. But the need that had driven him out of his house and down the road remained. Straightening his shoulders and squaring his back, Covenant marched into the building like a man inured to despair.

As he grasped a shopping trolley, a fatal glimmer of prescience smote Covenant like a premonition of doom. He realised that he had not brought, could not have brought, enough money to purchase all the goods he required. Muttering curses under his breath his head bowed with inanition, Covenant moved down the aisle. His gaze roamed up and down the serried shelves, searching almost in desperation for the canned fruits section. Reaching it at last, he agonised over the choices fate and Watties Canneries had laid before him. Canned peaches, canned pears, pineapple in chunks and rings, lychees, apricots, fruit salad. Could he, dare he, buy fruit salad? He hesitated, feeling fey and anile, sweat forming in the furrows of his forehead.

Suddenly, a hand touched his arm. He whirled round, apprehension racking his features. "Don't touch me! How dare you touch me?"

The shop assistant recoiled, seeming abashed and hesitant before the force of Covenant's rage. "I'm sorry sir. I was just going to ask if I could help you?"

"Help me? Help me?" Covenant was torn between conflicting desires. Could she help him, could anyone help him? Surely he was lost to all help. "'Help me? Can't you see I'm a shopper?"

"Yes, sir, that's why I'm trying to help you."

"Hellfire," breathed Covenant. Could this woman penetrate to the depths of his despair so easily? Might she, of all people, be able to untie the knots in his soul? Might she even know... "Does fruit salad go with custard?" There. He had said it. His hands clenched in tension as he awaited her reply.

"Yes sir, very well."

"Thank God for that!" Covenant seized the tin of fruit salad off the shelf as if it were a rock around which he could rebuild his life. He placed it in the trolley. For a moment, a smile softened the rigour of his downturned mouth. But it withered like the death of ail hope as he glanced up. The aisle stretched endlessly in front of him, a chaotic and meaningless jumble of colour. Other shoppers seemed fell and roynish, their malevolence bent against the achievement of his ends. Squaring his jaw, straightening his tie, Thomas Covenant grasped the shopping trolley and set off down the aisle. In spite of his unbelief, in spite of his private and irremediable pain, he must go on.

"Custard," breathed Covenant…

The Lost Chronicles of Thomas Covenant,
the Unbelievable is reprinted from
Timbre #1 -- Ed. Tim Jones (1983)
and is © Tim Jones