then you hear this thin thread o f something inside, and the
words ride on it right or they don’t but if you get the words
perfect they are ju st right on that thread, balanced just right. I
can’t really do it though because I’m always tired and I’m
always afraid. I shake. I can’t quiet down enough. The fear’s
new. I w asn’t some frightened girl. I’m afraid to sit still. I’m
afraid to be alone. I’m afraid when it’s quiet. A n y time I
remember I’m afraid. A ny time I dream I’m afraid. A ny time I
have to sit still alone I’m afraid. I just got this shake in me, this
terror; it’s like the room ain’t empty except it’s hollow , worse
than em pty, like some kind o f tunnel in hell, all dark with
nothing, a perfect void, I’m part o f the void and the air I’m
breathing is part o f it and the walls o f the room are the tunnel
and I’m trapped in a nothing so damned real it’s fixed forever. I
shake bad when I’m alone. I work on the stories barely able to
hold the pencil in m y hand. I don’t have no dope to calm me
down. The shake gets less if I smoke some dope, even a small
joint. Mentally I concentrate on calming m yself down so the
shake’s inside but I ain’t trembling so bad in m y body, I’m
more normal. So I sit for as long as I can, writing words down
and saying the sentences out loud to m yself and then I start
speeding up inside with fear and there’s no reason and so I have
to start calming m yself all over again, I concentrate on it until
I’m sitting still, not shaking. Then he just came right inside.
The door opened and he was in. I heard the locks unlocking—
N ew Y ork locks, real locks, I heard the cylinders turning, but
I didn’t grasp it, it was just a noise I couldn’t associate with
anything, and the door opened before I could register the
sound and he’s there, the g u y’s there, short, dark, w iry, sort o f
bent but from rage, a kind o f twisted anger in his muscles, he’s
tied in knots and it twists him all up and he’s raging all over the
apartment touching things and screaming and it’s him, they
told me he was locked up, it’s the guy, paranoid schizophrenic
they said, a very smart guy they said, but out o f control,
locked up, smart they said, a very smart guy but really fucked
up in the head, hears things, sees things, paranoid, has
delusions, and the landlady’s not here and no one’s here to
calm him down who knows him or to say who I am and he’s
screaming and I am saying who I am and saying the names o f
the landlady and his neighbors and saying, oh, they didn’t
know he’d be back, and I was just here for this second, a few
hours, a day, and I was just leaving, just now, and he’s
screaming and he’s hitting the table and he’s suddenly silent
and staring and he’s between me and m y stuff and I say I’ll be
back for it and he shouldn’t w orry and it’s all okay and o f
course it’s his place and I haven’t touched a thing, and I’m
trying to get m y coat but he’s in the w ay and he’s between me
and m y laundry bags, and me and m y papers, and I grab the
coat in a fast ju m p and swoop and I say the landlady will come
back for m y stuff or he can put it outside and he’s standing
there rigid and I run, I have the coat, I keep talking, I get out,
out o f the apartment, out o f the building, down the steps in the
hall, down the stoop, out, and I’ve got the keys to m y old
friend’s apartment, m y old peace friend, for the sofa outside
the kitchen and she got me the loony’s room and she said to
come back anytime so I turn to her, I’m pretty scared and I’m
shaking and I’m running and I don’t know if he’s calling the
police because there’s no one in the building to say who I am or
that they said I could stay there and I’m running to m y old
friend’s place and it’s a bitter cold night with the wind at about
fifteen miles an hour, under zero, the streets are deserted, they
are bare, and I think well okay, I’m safe, I got out, anybody’d
be shaking, I took everyone’s word that he wouldn’t be back
without enough warning, I relaxed, I took things out o f my
laundry bags, I was there a couple o f months nearly, I mean, I
never completely relax and I never completely unpack; and I
w asn’t asleep, thank God, but now I have to figure out where
to go, and I run to m y old friend’s apartment and I have the
keys in m y hand but I knock first because maybe she is there
and she is inside and she asks who it is and I say I am me and I
say what happened, that the guy came back, showed up,
opened the door, was in, and I ran and I need a place to sleep
tonight and it’s, ah, freezing out there, and she says there’s
someone with her and she doesn’t want me to come in because
he’s with her and I say okay, fine, yeah, it’s fine, yeah, it’s
okay, yeah, okay, because you don’t press yourself on
someone even if they told you always to come to them and
they gave you keys, they have freedom and if they say no then
you ain’t wanted there, and I think about saying to her you
have to do this because I have nowhere to go and nothing and I
will die out there, this ain’t no joke, tonight’s a dying night,
but you can’t push yourself on someone and I figure she
knows that anyway and you can’t count on no one, they will
let you die and that’s just the truth, and she don’t even open the
door to see my face or pass me money, she keeps it locked and I
hear her fasten the chain, and I’m in the hall o f her building and
I think I can go to Jill’s art opening, it’s all I can think of, a bar’s
more uncertain, more dangerous, and I can spend at least a few
hours there inside and there’s people there I know and I can
find a place to sleep maybe on someone’s floor, I don’t want to
fuck anyone, I just know I don’t, but maybe I can find
somewhere, I only got a couple o f dollars and it don’t last long
and you can’t stay warm through a whole night on it and I
don’t know anything past I have to find a place to sleep tonight
and get out o f the cold and I will w orry about the rest
tom orrow, where to go and what to do, I will think about it
tom orrow, and I say to m yself that I ain’t scared and so what
and this is nothing, absolutely nothing, piece o f cake, no
problem, I’ll just go and have a drink or something at the
opening and I’ll ask around and the art opening will last maybe
until two a. m., and then there’s only four hours or maybe five
until dawn, five really, and I can do that; I can do it; if I think
four hours I can do it and then after it’s only a little more time
and there’ll be light; I can do it; it ain’t new and I can do it; and
probably I can find somewhere to sleep and if I have to fuck I
will but I don’t want to but so what if I do but I w on ’t; I can last
through tonight. I’m walking in the wind, it’s like swim m ing
in the ocean against a
deep and deadly tide, I’m walking down
to Soho, the streets are bare and the wind is cruel, just fucking
brutal cruel, I get about half a block at a time and I try to find a
doorw ay, warm up, walk as much more as I can stand, the
wind just freezes you, your chest, your blood, your bones; it
fucking hurts; it ain’t some moderate pain, it’s desperate like
some anguish possessing you. Soho’s industrial lofts and.
galleries and a couple o f bars, there’s long streets with
nowhere to go, it’s as if the doorw ays disappeared because the
buildings are industrial buildings and there’s elevators you
have to use to get inside, not normal doors, the painters living
there are illegal and there’s no shops or stores to step into and
Jill’s gallery is w ay downtown, near Canal Street, a long walk,
and the cold’s hurting me and I’m afraid. M y mind is rocking
back and forth from I can find someone and if I have to I’ll fuck
them even no matter what and I can make it from two to six if I
have to, I can. There’s no bums out, there’s no whores,
everyone’s folded inside some crease somewhere and anyone
who ain’t might not live until morning; there’s nights like that;
and I get there and I take the warehouse elevator up and it’s
white, it’s a huge warehouse room painted a glossy white and
there’s all these people dressed in real clothes, you know,
outfits, for style, and the w om en’s all acting nice and flirty
with the men and it’s warm and the men’s all acting smart and
polite and civilized and there’s wine, white wine, and there's
Stoli and bourbon and ice, and there’s cheese and some little
pieces o f food, some little sandwiches, tender little things you
can eat in one bite, yo u ’d be hard pressed to take two, you
know those funny little sandwiches that are always wet and
sort o f wilted, and the room ’s so shiny and white and big the
people almost disappear in it, the ceiling’s so high you feel like
a little ant, and it seems the people are sparse though there’s a
lot o f them, they don’t look like the wind got to them but
rather they’re all polished up, all shined, and there’s paintings
on the walls, Jill’s paintings, and in the middle o f the room
there’s Jill but she’s not looking all polished up, she’s sort o f
gray and miserable, and I say hi and I congratulate her and
she’s mad and sad and I say well it’s a big deal, really, and your
nerves are bound to get frayed, aren’t they, and she gets darker
and stranger, and Paul comes over, and she glowers, and he
says some pleasant things, and she and he seem to agree that
the paintings are on the wall and the people are in the room,
and there’s a certain amount o f tension over this, and Paul’s
saying normal things like hey have something to drink and
there’s food, take some, or have some, and I’m saying the sort
o f foolish things people say about paintings, aren’t they
strong, aren’t they interesting, haven’t they grown, don’t they
dominate the room, and it works kind o f like Valium because
Jill evens out and there’s a small smile out o f one side o f her
mouth at least and I think I should just walk around and see
about finding someone I can ask for a place to sleep, and I walk
around, and I have one drink to warm up because I can’t drink
because I don’t know what the rest o f the night will be and
relaxing isn’t in the picture until there’s shelter and I have a wet
sandwich and I chat with this woman and this man and they’re
mostly painters and they really all want to say something
about the relationship, Paul and Jill, not the paintings, so
there’s this catty, gossipy quality to everything and also it’s all
secretive because no one wants to be accidentally overheard by
Jill or Paul and while Jill is staying one place, dead center in the
room, just standing there by a particularly big painting, Paul is
all over, behind people, in conversations, introducing people,
the real host, the scout leader; and he chats with me awhile too.
But I’m scared, because I know this will end and real life will
come back. I know the trick’s not to look desperate. I know
the trick’s to seem as if there’s nothing wrong; w hy the hell do
you need to sleep on someone’s floor if nothing’s wrong? I
can’t think o f any plausible reason but I figure it’s not rational
as such, you know, reasons, it’s attitude, you have to have a
kind o f calm as if it’s just normal so no one thinks they’ll have to
give you anything; or care for you. So I make m yself steady
and I think this is normal and I ain’t so scared as actually I am
and I think well Jill knows everyone here and she’s m y friend
so I’ll ask her and I take her aside, meaning just a little o ff her
mark, and I say I need a place to sleep and is there anyone here
who might put me up ju st for one night, and she says she’ll
think about it, and I smile and act as if it’s okay one w ay or
another and I drift o ff and more time passes, and I’m drinking
soda and thinking, every second thinking, m y heart beating
too fast in fear, but outside I’m calm and simple, and Jill comes
up and says, listen, I’m going home with Paul so w hy don’t
you stay at m y loft, and I say that’s great, because it is, and I am
fucking happy, I think even it will be nice, it’s a big place, it’s
sort o f dark but it’s fine, you know, with a bed on a kind o f
platform, a mattress really, and it’s really nice, you know, so
I’m at ease, I mean I am really happy, and I pour m yself a stiff
drink, a real fine drink, and I’m chatting aw ay like a real
person, you know, I can’t emphasize enough how m y heart
slows down and how m y blood stops racing and how inside
m y head calms down and I’m just a person, not so shiny as the
others but not scared no more, more like a happy girl o f the
regular kind, and then, once the adrenaline has subsided
altogether, I feel how tired I am, I feel how it’s worn me out, I
feel how cold I got and how I’m just dragged out and
enervated, weary, and it’s midnight by now , I been at the
opening a long time, and I think it’s decent to leave, so I go to
Jill, and she and Paul are holding hands and they are looking
happy and I am glad there’s a truce and I ask if I could go to her
loft now , and she’s upset or confused or something, and m y
heart sinks, but he says, look, I’m going to stay at Jill’s loft
with her, it’s ju st easier, so w hy don’t you go to m y place, it’s
empty, there’s no problem, I’ll give you the keys, okay? I say
things like I don’t want to put you out and arc you sure it’s
okay and he says what is obvious, I ain’t putting him out
because it’s a big night for Jill and he’s staying with her at her
place because it’s ju st better for her that w ay; and I say fine; and
everyone says fine; and he’s going to give me the keys and
directions because I’m not su
re where it is from here and I’m
waiting for him to come tell me these things, he said he’d write
them down, and fatigue is dragging me down, and I get my
coat and he comes and says hell I’ll just walk you there, it’s no
big deal, Jill’s going to be here for a couple o f hours yet, I’ll
walk you and come back, it’s just a few blocks away; and I was
glad because I didn’t want to get lost and I don’t know it
around here so good and it’s late and the streets are a little scary
down here, it’s not a regular neighborhood, and the wind has
made the streets bare and menacing as if it’s blowing dark
shadows in your face to smother you, and we go out, and it’s
colder than before, you are turned half to ice and the streets are
empty, just this naked cement with tides o f wind sweeping
over it like a sandstorm in the desert, and he says shit let’s get a
drink, and we step into a bar, we fucking dive into it, grateful
it’s there, and w e’re at the bar and I’m drinking my Stoli
straight up and I don’t have no money and I say so because I’m
planning to pay half because that’s fair and also I don’t want
wrong ideas communicated or to take advantage because he’s
a famous painter and he’s saying shit it doesn’t matter, it’s so
fucking cold we w on’t make it if we don’t take care o f
ourselves, and we talk about Hem ingway or something, and
we take o ff again, and we get a little further and there’s another
bar and we dive in, grateful, and we sit at the bar and there’s
another Stoli in front o f me and w e’re talking about some actor
he knows w h o ’s shooting cocaine and he’s saying it’s a tragedy
and I’m thinking yeah it is; and I’m saying Jill will w orry and
he’s saying there’s plenty o f time and I’m saying we should
just brave it and walk to his place and he’s saying it’s Jill’s
opening and she’s the center o f attention and that’s how it
should be and it’s good for her, she needs to stand more on her
own, and he’s proud o f her, and it’ll be fine, and there’s
another Stoli and another and another bar and another and he’s
Mercy Page 26
