hurt Ricky you’d let me come over and just not tell ’im.
4
That way nobody gets hurt.”
5
I told her that I would think about what she said.
6
I didn’t care about Bethany and Ricky right then. The 7
next morning Narciss Gully was due to come over to take 8
the photographs. I had spent the day cleaning again. Ac-9
tually I just moved whatever mess had collected into the 10
pantry. I didn’t drink for twenty-four hours previous to 11
her arrival, and I took a long bath and shaved.
12
When the doorbell rang I wasn’t expecting the twenty-13
something copper-toned Dominican Adonis of assistants.
14
“Hola,” he said to me. “I am Geraldo. Miss Gully sent 15
me to set up for the shoot.”
16
I’m tall but Geraldo had me beat. He was six four at 17
least, wearing only cutoff jean shorts and a white T-shirt.
18
His muscles were well defined but not grotesque, except 19
for calves that bulged. His hair came in big golden-brown 20
locks. His face was beautiful.
21
“Huh?” I said.
22
“Preparation,” he said slowly, taking time over the syl-23
lables. He indicated a pile of paraphernalia behind him.
24
Lighting, screens, rugs, and big camera boxes. “See?”
25
“Oh. Uh-huh. Yeah. Why don’t you come in here in the 26
living room?”
27 S
Geraldo lifted the great pile of materials into a rippling 28 R
embrace and carried it in. I showed him where to set up, 90
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The Man in My Basement
and he spent a long time with a light meter looking at 1
windows in order to find the exact right position for his 2
rugs and screens. He examined my heirlooms, holding 3
them up to the light and using his meter.
4
“Are you taking the pictures?” I asked after a lot of 5
watching.
6
The boyish smile and manly shaking of his head must 7
have broken many hearts before. “No,” he said. “Miss 8
Gully takes the pictures. I just set it up.”
9
“You work for her?”
10
“We are friends. She loves my work, my painting, and so 11
she gives me jobs when she can. I live at the house of Harry 12
Lake in East Hampton. He is my master in oils. A great 13
master. He sent for me from New York after seeing my show 14
at the Rhinoceros Gallery on Avenue A. Do you know it?”
15
“Know what?”
16
“The Rhinoceros Gallery. It is a very important place.
17
Harry found me there, and he lets me use his garage as a 18
studio and to sleep.”
19
“So how do you know Narciss?” I asked.
20
“I was walking down the street,” he said, tossing his 21
locks for effect. “Just walking and I see the most beautiful 22
quilts hanging in her window. The designs are like the 23
ones that I paint and I had to see them, touch them . . .”
24
There was a passion building up in Geraldo, and I 25
couldn’t help but wonder what all he was touching up in 26
Narciss Gully’s store.
S 27
“I know,” I said for no reason, “she sells quilts.”
R 28
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“Sells?” he sneered. “It’s not a hot-dog stand. This is art.
2
She collects, she shares, she teaches. Sometimes someone 3
might pay for learning something, to live with beauty.
4
But she does not just sell quilts.”
5
I’ve never really gotten the knack of talking to artists.
6
You can’t talk to them about how much it pays or about 7
what you think you like. If I think a painting is ugly, 8
somebody just tells me that I don’t understand. If I think 9
a painting is good, they tell me the same thing. It’s like 10
artists see a different place, a higher place, whereas I’m on 11
the level of some stray dog who only knows how to hunt 12
for pussy and food in a world that’s black and white.
13
Geraldo sneered at me again and turned to his work.
14
I considered kicking him out of my house but then 15
thought better of it. I didn’t want trouble with Narciss 16
Gully. Just the opposite — I had begun to have deep feel-17
ings for the antique dealer. Every night after talking to 18
Bethany, I would have lascivious dreams about Narciss.
19
In those dreams we always started at the dinner table, ei-20
ther in a restaurant or at someone’s house, maybe a bar-21
becue or a picnic. No matter where we ended up, we 22
always started out eating. I’d bring the wine and she was 23
barely dressed. She was shy about her small breasts and 24
slender thighs, but I would console her by stroking her 25
body and rubbing my face against her magnificent skin.
26
In these dreams my excitement grew and grew, but always 27 S
before we could embrace, something happened to inter-28 R
rupt. The waiter would arrive with the check, a down-92
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pour fell on our picnic, someone would come to the 1
door — her mother or Clarance wanting to apologize.
2
No matter who it was I’d get so angry that I’d wake up 3
with a powerful erection. Awake, I couldn’t recapture the 4
ardor of my dreams. And without passion there was no 5
desire for the consummation of my lust.
6
“Mr. Blakey?” She had come in behind me while I 7
watched her assistant and thought of her.
8
“Oh,” I said. “Hi, Narciss.”
9
“Hello, Geraldo,” she said, having satisfied her social 10
obligation with me. “Have you been here long?”
11
“Not long,” the godling reported to his muse. He was 12
holding up a terrible painting done by my aunt Blythe.
13
“Is this really worth the film?”
14
“We’ll do the paintings first,” she said. “And after that 15
the clothes and then the hard objects.”
16
The crestfallen look on Geraldo’s face was worth a 17
whole week of hard labor.
18
“Excuse us, Mr. Blakey, but we’re going to be working 19
in here for a while.”
20
“If you call me Charles, I’ll let you alone.”
21
She smiled without answering and I left, grinning 22
broadly at the sour-faced Geraldo.
23
> 24
25
The next few hours were tough for me. I was reading a 26
book but wanting a drink. The book was about a prince S 27
who had been stripped of his memory and exiled from a R 28
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1
magical kingdom to mundane Earth. There were agents 2
trying to kill him, but in his confused state he couldn’t 3
understand why. I liked the story because I often felt like 4
that, like I was being persecuted but didn’t know why.
5
Why was I alive and seeing and thinking and dreaming if 6
everything was just stoplights and televisions, tests and 7
failures, red wine and death?
8
But I didn’t want a drink to escape, not then anyway. I 9
needed a drink because I wanted to ask Narciss for that 10
rain check for the dinner we’d missed.
11
The first obstacle would be asking the question in the 12
presence of the adoring Geraldo’s imposing physique. But 13
I got over that. I could see that Narciss wasn’t all that in-14
terested in the Dominican artist. When he strutted and 15
preened, she hardly noticed. He was actually just an assis-16
tant.
17
But even when I saw that he was no competitor, I still 18
held back.
19
After being nearly crushed to death and then incarcer-20
ated in a mental hospital, the prince escaped and was run-21
ning. I decided to go in and check on my guests.
22
“How’s it going?” I asked, entering the room.
23
Geraldo sneered but Narciss took off her glasses and 24
smiled.
25
“We’re halfway through it,” she said. “It’s taking longer 26
than usual because I’m taking a separate slide shot. Some 27 S
of these pieces are so wonderful that I’ll have to send 28 R
them for projection.”
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“Oh,” I said. “Good. Good. Would you like to get d-1
dinner after this?”
2
Just that one small stammer made me want to bite off 3
my tongue. One double skip on the letter d and I’d told 4
Narciss all about my fears and weaknesses. Geraldo was 5
standing behind me, but I’m sure he was grinning at my 6
failed manhood. The smile on Narciss’s lips I took to be 7
pity and pleasure at the discomfort of a child.
8
“I’m sorry, Charles, but I have plans,” she said.
9
“Uh-huh.” I nodded, putting an upbeat tone to the 10
grunt and realizing too late that that made me sound even 11
more pitiable.
12
“But maybe we can have coffee or something after we’re 13
finished here. There are a couple of things that we need to 14
discuss.”
15
“No problem. Just as long as we’re through before seven 16
’cause you know I got to get out and eat something.”
17
Every word out of my mouth seemed calculated to make 18
me look more like a fool.
19
I went back into the kitchen feeling as if I were de-20
scending into a pit. Every step brought me lower. And all 21
it was was just that double d. A stuttering skip and my 22
fingers were tingling, the light in the room refused to il-23
luminate. I didn’t feel hungry; I didn’t want a drink. My 24
months of unemployment, my loneliness, my drunken 25
poverty all came to the surface then. I would have liked to 26
cry but I couldn’t. The prince in my novel was reduced to S 27
a mass of unreadable words.
R 28
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The minutes went by and I kept sinking. At some point 2
Narciss came in. She had sent Geraldo away, but I didn’t 3
care. She wanted coffee and I made it, but the brew was 4
unbearably weak and she took no more than a sip.
5
“Are you okay?” she asked. “I mean, you look kind of 6
sad.”
7
“Fine,” I said.
8
“Is this a good time to talk?”
9
“Sure.”
10
“It’s about those masks.” Narciss was excited. She took 11
a large book from her shoulder bag and opened it. Be-12
cause I didn’t move my head, she pulled her chair next to 13
mine and opened to a page marked by a red ribbon. On 14
the page was a carven mask that resembled the three masks 15
on my windowsill.
16
“Passport masks,” she said. “That’s what this is and it’s 17
also what we found in that box. They were used as iden-18
tification but also as a way of bringing home along with 19
you when you were away on a long journey. It’s hard to 20
say, but the masks you have could represent a family, 21
maybe three brothers or friends who set sail for America 22
as indentured servants. The majority of passport masks 23
are made of wood, so the fact that these are ivory might 24
have special significance.”
25
“Uh-huh,” I said because she seemed to be waiting for 26
some kind of response.
27 S
“They might have belonged to rich men, maybe even 28 R
royalty. Your family might descend from a direct blood-96
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The Man in My Basement
line of kings. ” The emphasis she put on kings was dra-1
matic and full of feeling.
2
But if I was a prince, I too had forgotten.
3
“I’m getting hungry.” It was almost impossible for me 4
to get out those few words. “Why don’t you write me or 5
call about the stuff, you know, that you’re selling.”
6
“But these masks —”
7
“I have to talk about it later. Later.”
8
I was looking at the book, the picture of a longish face 9
carved from wood. The eyes were gouged out, making a 10
ridge for the nose. The forehead was high and the mouth 11
was just a slit. Narciss’s hands closed the book and then 12
pulled it away. I heard her chair sliding backward. As she 13
moved away the air on that side seemed to cool, as if her 14
body heat had been keeping me warm.
15
I didn’t want her to go but I couldn’t even look up —
16
much less ask her to stay.
17
“The boy so retarded he sit on the toilet waitin’ for in-18
spiration to wipe his ass.” That’s what my uncle Brent 19
used to say about me on report-card day four times a year.
20
That’s
how I felt.
21
I heard the front door close.
22
My descent progressed even though I didn’t move a 23
muscle for a very long time.
24
25
26
S 27
R 28
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1
2
3
4
5
PART TWO
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
C 14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
S 27
R 28
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3
4
12
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
I closed the windows and locked the front and back C 14
doors at 3:00 in the morning. I snapped the phone con-15
nections out of the wall and moved the masks down into 16
my father’s library. I slept with the money and the masks 17
for a day and a half. People came to the front door but I 18
didn’t answer. Once Ricky came around to the library 19
window and called out my name. After he was gone I 20
connected the phone long enough to call his mother’s 21
house and leave a message on his answering machine.
22
“I’m okay, Ricky,” I said. “Just thinking about some 23
stuff, so I need to spend some time alone.”
24
After that I disconnected the phone again and spent al-25
most the next six weeks alone in my house. I only went 26
out for pizzas and whiskey. And as time went by, I had less S 27
and less desire to see or speak to anyone.
R 28
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I got letters, mainly from Bethany. Long yearning let-2
ters about wanting to see me and asking what was wrong.
3
Ricky had told her about my phone message, and she said 4
that she was worried about me. Every letter she sent was 5
more intimate and more passionate. They were long let-6
The Man in My Basement Page 10
