Kamby Bolongo Mean River

by Robert Lopez

  They do this to me once a month.

  I don't have a calendar or clock in here so I don't actually know how often they sponge me down.

  They never do it how Mother used to when I was sick with fever. Whenever I was sick with fever Mother would sponge my head and chest to cool me off.

  She never ran the sponge over my situation which is what they do here whenever they give me a sponge bath. I tell them have you no shame whenever they do this.

  Whenever Charlie was away camp is where Mother said he was though I'm not sure it's true. I think Mother said Charlie was at camp to make me jealous. Otherwise she said it so I would behave more like Charlie myself. She used to say why can't you be more like your brother Charlie. I forget what I was doing when she would say this.

  I was probably holding my situation to show her the chafed parts if I had to guess.

  I think if I behaved more like Charlie then I too would be sent away to camp.

  Meaning also that if I didn't chafe like Charlie and if camp was actually where Charlie was in the first place.

  Also Mother didn't like it how allergic I was to the food she cooked for us. This is one of the reasons I was sickly growing up.

  Charlie said he wore a special kind of cotton uniform at camp. He said they made everyone wear one whether they wanted to or not because they were all part of a team now. Charlie didn't like teams which is why he always meditated and boxed instead.

  For instance Charlie only joined the baseball team that one summer. He said there wasn't enough violence in baseball and he didn't like having coaches and teammates.

  Like me Charlie wasn't a good second basemen. Charlie wasn't afraid of the ball killing him like I was but you wouldn't know that from the way he played. It was like he was trying to field a live grenade half the time.

  The only time I wasn't embarrassed of Charlie as a second basemen was when he got beaned and charged the mound. First he threw the bat at the pitcher and then his helmet but both the bat and helmet missed because Charlie threw like a girl. This was another reason I was embarrassed to call him my brother.

  So there's Charlie charging the mound and I'm yelling from the bleachers keep your goddamned left up this time Charlie.

  That was the end of his baseball career and we both said good riddance to that on the way home.

  But like me again Charlie looked especially handsome in his baseball uniform so we always had that to fall back on.

  Charlie called his camp uniform a jumpsuit and he said it was the kind Chinese karate fighters would wear in the movies. I asked him once what color belt he was and he said they wouldn't let anyone wear belts so it didn't matter. I asked him how he kept his pants from falling down and he said that's why they make us wear jumpsuits instead.

  Charlie didn't say if he sweated in that suit and I didn't ask because Charlie didn't like to talk about sweat. I asked him about sweat one time and he smacked me across the nose and said you shouldn't ask questions like that about people. So I don't know if he did sweat in that jumpsuit and if he did did he chafe too.

  If he did chafe it was probably the counselors who brought him powder.

  I can see Charlie holding his situation while some counselor in a white coat and clipboard applied the powder for him.

  Charlie looking like he did on the canvas after a vicious knockout.

  Charlie and I would watch karate movies whenever there weren't any boxing or bullfighting movies on for us. Charlie liked it how I could sound like one of those Chinese karate fighters because of my great ear. He was on the floor whenever I did a Chinese karate fighter for him. How I did this is I would bow to Charlie first and then rise up into a fancy karate move where I would kick with my right leg and land on my left all the while chopping the air with my bare hands. Then I would move my lips around fast and say something like asshole you have disgraced my sister's honor. The sister was always a peasant girl from a fishing village and the Chinese karate fighter was her older brother.

  On the floor Charlie told me they didn't call each other asshole instead they said ah so you have disgraced my sister's honor.

  He said he liked his jumpsuit because this way he didn't have to decide what to wear every day. He said it was comfortable and good for meditating in though he didn't meditate anymore. When I asked him why not he said it was none of my business.

  Charlie would say it was none of my business right before going into his room to masturbate so I always knew what he meant by that.

  This morning I drew a stick Charlie inside the ring with a stick Muhammed Ali. How you can tell it's Charlie is he is scared to death and how you can tell it's Muhammed Ali is he isn't.

  I had Muhammed Ali dance rings around Charlie and then Charlie gets impatient like always and Ali knocks him out with a wicked combination. The next drawing has Charlie on the canvas and there's Ali dancing over him. He is taunting Charlie and who could blame him.

  If you look off to the corner you can see stick me climbing through the ropes to wake Charlie up. I have a stick water bottle in my hand and I'm about to squirt Charlie and tell him he's lucky to be alive.

  Saying I am in the middle of this conversation means the conversation will continue another thirty-two years or so I think.

  I was never good at math and neither was Charlie so he couldn't help me with it. Mother made us do our homework together at the kitchen table every afternoon when we got home but she didn't like it when we asked for help. She said she already went to school and that part of her life was over. She said we had to figure it out on our own because that's how the world works. This is only when she was unemployed because when she wasn't she'd still be at work. Those days Charlie and I would watch the television together instead of doing homework like most normal kids our age. Then when Mother would come home with our sandwiches and coleslaw she'd ask did we do our homework and we always said yes we did.

  I am probably two-thirds to three-quarters to almost done with the conversation with myself if you can believe that sort of thing without a calendar.

  Should the phone ring I might let the machine answer because sometimes I arrange for the machine to say nothing when it answers. Sometimes I have the machine sound a long beep and then say nothing on the other side of the beep. Sometimes I want it that when people leave a message they might wonder if they've dialed the wrong number instead.

  This nothing when the machine answers is similar to the nothing on the telephone and similar to dead air. This nothing goes on forever like before the earth without form and void.

  I like to see how uncomfortable people are when they come across this nothing for the first time. It's like they don't know what to do with themselves. I sometimes listen to them leaving messages for me and I laugh until I hyperventilate and fall down. They don't know I am listening while they leave this message so it's even better. What they do is mumble the hello how are you and they sound like Mother gave them too many pills.

  This morning when the phone rang was another story altogether.

  I said the hello how are you and the doctor on the other end said this is another story altogether.

  I said start from the beginning and don't leave anything out please.

  The doctor said pay attention because I will not repeat myself.

  I said make sure you speak slowly this way if I have to think about one word too long I won't miss too much.

  The doctor said once there was a man who began every story with the phrase once there was a man.

  I said to him how tedious.

  The doctor said tedious indeed.

  Then the doctor said this was a dull man witless and unoriginal. He was not a good friend to the few friends he had and his family had disowned him when he was quite young.

  I said Mother tried to disown us herself but she lost the paperwork. I said this is why Mother was always getting fired all the time.

  The doctor said listen to my story and hold thy tongue.

  I said fine then where were we.
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br />   The doctor said this man was possessed of an undeniable charisma and his ability to weave a compelling narrative was unmatched. He could hold forth with kings and queens and as easily as anyone.

  I said when I try to sound like anyone the caller hangs up on me.

  The doctor said his audiences always knew what was coming with this plot turn or that one and they still could not tear themselves away.

  I said my brother Charlie was a lot like this before the boxing.

  Then the doctor said when he died no one mourned for him and no one attended what could only be described as a modest funeral. To this day his tombstone makes no mention of his incredible storytelling.

  I said to the doctor why are you telling me this and the doctor said think about it and I will try you again tomorrow.

  This is why should the phone ring tomorrow I will have another decision to make.

  Unless I decide to stop forever with the words and concentrate on the voice.

  The doctor has the kind of voice that makes you wish for too many pills.

  Should the phone ring I will ignore it and continue the conversation with myself instead. Sometimes I will talk to Charlie in my head if I haven't spoken with him on the phone recently. The Charlie in my head is almost exactly like the Charlie on the phone. They are both of them tall and smart and more like Charlie used to be than he is now.

  We might talk about how we used to watch television and sing songs together or how Mother would give us a dollar to chase after the ice cream truck at night and how we'd end up on the other side of the neighborhood for two lousy popsicles. Otherwise we talk about what I do here every day and how they took my clothes from me and won't give me a television to watch.

  When I talk with him like this in my head I never stop so I can answer the phone. I almost never remember to check for messages either.

  Sometimes if it is a wrong number I pretend I am the person the caller intended to call. In other words I pretend to be an actor like the hypothetical Charlie Robertson playing summer stock in upstate Alaska somewhere.

  After I answer they will say something like Hey Gracie it's Maggie calling and I'll say Hello Maggie how are you. Then I will ask about the kids and work because most people named Maggie have both kids and work. Sometimes they realize I'm not Gracie and when this happens I will ask if they are Gracie themselves. This is when I ask to speak to Gracie. I say Maggie put Gracie on the phone. I say what have you done to Gracie Maggie. This is when they usually hang up if I haven't done so first.

  Should the phone ring I might answer it after the third ring. When I answer it after the first ring people wonder why I answered so quickly. They wonder if I was waiting for the phone to ring. They wonder if I was standing right next to the phone waiting for it to ring.

  It is always a question of which ring to answer the phone after. Each ring means something different so you have to know beforehand who is calling.

  If you pick up on the first ring it means you were standing right next to the phone hoping it would ring. You were saying please ring to the phone please ring right now please.

  If you pick up on the second ring you probably don't want the caller to think this so you wait for the phone to ring a second time before answering. Waiting for the second ring almost never fools the caller because they know you were right there waiting for the phone to ring.

  If you answer after the third ring this means you were somewhere else when the phone rang otherwise you were in the middle of a conversation with yourself and didn't want to interrupt by answering.

  Four or five or six rings means it's a bullfight with yourself whether to answer and maybe you win this time and maybe you don't. Either way you dance around the room like the phone is Charlie on the canvas after you knocked him out with your own dangerous combination.

  Otherwise they think maybe you don't want to talk that you didn't sleep last night and have a headache. There is nothing wrong with not wanting to talk or not sleeping last night or a headache.

  Should the phone ring I will ask why it is I can't dial out anymore. Every time I pick up the phone to call someone now I never get to anymore. What happens is I pick up the phone and listen to the dial tone which is always there. Then I push the seven magic digits in the proper order and I wait to hear the ring on the other end which never happens anymore. The only thing I hear is the dial tone still. So should the phone ring this next time I will ask how come.

  Should the phone ring I will answer it after the fifth ring and will say thank you for calling Charlie's take out service. I will ask the caller if they want a sandwich or coleslaw and then I will ask how they intend to pay for it.

  Should the phone ring I will complain about the air conditioning. I will say what is wrong with the air conditioning. I will tell the person on the other end that I am sweating and when I sweat I chafe and when I chafe the insides of my thighs are rubbed raw. I will say I cannot walk myself around anymore. I will say I cannot walk myself over to the phone anymore so there's no point in trying to call.

  Should the phone ring I will answer it and ask to speak to Charlie. I haven't spoken to Charlie for so long now.

  Should the phone ring I will continue doing what it is I'm doing. What I'm doing now is masturbating. I have been masturbating since early this morning. Sometimes I masturbate because there's nothing else to do here. If they gave me a television to watch I'd watch it and maybe then I could stop masturbating all the time. I think they want me to keep masturbating which is why they don't give me a television to watch. I think they watch me to see how many times I can masturbate. I think I am their television is another way of saying it.

  There is probably a sofa on the other side of the window and they are watching me from this sofa and compiling data. I think I am part of a study about the relationship between masturbation and the lack of television. It may or may not have something to do with the phone always ringing too. Maybe they think the sound of the phone ringing makes me want to masturbate. I don't think this is true but maybe they think so anyway.

  These doctors in their white coats and clipboards are not smart people. You can tell by how they mumble like Mother gave them too many pills. You can also tell how they're not good at helping people get better. Charlie's camp counselors were the same way and it was a tragedy what happened there.

  Charlie was away at camp for two whole summers and always said he was getting better when we spoke on the phone but the truth was he never did.

  I could tell the minute he walked through the door he wasn't any better.

  Mother could tell too which is why she sat us down at the kitchen table that one time and asked what do we want to do with our lives. Charlie said it was either boxer or priest and I said as long as they have air conditioning I'll do anything.

  Then we asked is that right Mother.

  Mother said whatever you do don't become doctors in white coats and clipboards or camp counselors and everything will be fine.

  Sometimes when I masturbate I do it because I am pretending to be Charlie at camp whenever he got worked up and would go off somewhere to do what felt good.

  Last night when the phone rang it was words again. I said the hello how are you like I'm supposed to and all of a sudden they tell me this ugly story I never heard before.

  This one wasn't a bullfight so I didn't dance around like Charlie before I answered. I say the hello how are you and right away comes the people on this train are an ugly story.

  I tell them I don't want to hear it this time Johnny.

  They say it isn't up to you so shut the fuck up and listen.

  I say fine then.

  They say they all of them have ugly faces and hair and ugly shoes and feet and makeup and they read ugly books and they listen to ugly music on ugly headphones.

  I say they probably come from ugly people who come from ugly people who came from an ugly place.

  They say whether or not the people on this train are ugly of character is immaterial. What th
ese people do to each other or to other people elsewhere doesn't concern us. Of the two physical ugliness is more objectionable but we do not say this out loud.

  I say how could you Johnny.

  They say when we look at each other we say with our eyes there is no faking this kind of ugly.

  I say do you think Charlie is ugly.

  They say I'm not talking about Charlie.

  I say that's your problem right there.

  They say we're not finished with the story Johnny.

  They say what's worse or funny or some queer combination of the two is that when all the ugly people get off at this stop or that one even uglier people take their places. It seems like a mathematical or physiological impossibility.

  I say both Charlie and I weren't good at math so we can't help you with that one.

  They say we don't need help.

  I say that's what you think Johnny.

  They say it seems like something that happens to you when you're dead and you've done ugly things during an ugly life.

  I say how could you again.

  They say the people on this train are all manners of ugly.

  I say how many of them exactly.