I see. Well, then, if you were the Judge, how would you run the universe?
Like, last night these girls were boxing and they got real mad. They were doing it 'cause something was said to somebody. I got laughing. I woulda judged 'em. I woulda judged 'em both laughing, 'cause they were in the wrong. But they say this Big Judge He never laughs. Just looks at you and sends you down. You gotta git left to yourself, but they don't know the meaning of the word respect. They don't play the game.
But you do, I take it, said the Angel with a yawn that rose to the very high ceiling and rolled down those whitewashed halls.
Now this here girl, I never hit her. But they gave me ten days. She broke my dentures. I'm a model inmate. She claims I stole ten dollars from her. She 'pologized to me two weeks ago, saw me in court. I said sure. It ain't but two teeth. Two teeth's all I need.
Time's up, the officer said.
Keep her out of trouble until the Judge gets to her, said the Angel.
No problem, the officer said. We control the power-operated doors here. We control the TV stations. We control the music.
T-3 Prison, Phnom Penh, Cambodia (1991)
We give them also general knowledge, the officer said. All the prisoners here, they can read and write. Through our education we can make some people understanding. You see, after the prisoner leaving here, we give first thinking and then degree of knowledge, and then we give them the job. In the prison there are handicrafts. They can make small tables. You see, the prisoners, they produce some production, and then they get more from store. When we let them free we give them some supplies.
Do you think these people here are bad people?
You see, these people, they believe now. They trust our policy. They will become good people. They want to get amnesty from our government.
When will their reeducation be completed? said the Angel.
It's not much longer to stay. Soon they will be good.
And are you good? asked the angel.
Me? said the officer. Of course I am good.
Bring in the prisoner, said the Angel.
The man came in bowing and blinking, skinny and terrified.
How long have you been in prison? said the Angel.
Two years and seven months.
Have you had a trial?
No.
What sentence do you expect?
I hope that the authorities here will let me free at one time and now I try to be a good people as the other . . .
You are not good now?
No, sir. No, I am not good.
The Angel took the right hand of the prisoner and placed it in the officer's left hand. He said: By the power vested in me I join you both in marriage forever. You are fitted for each other.
Central Prison, Mogadishu, Somalia (1993)
The prison was an immense white skull on a hill of snow-white rock and snow-white sand near the seaport. The blue gate, partly rusted, opened all its teeth at the Angel's touch. He ascended the steep white steps overlooking the sea. The next door was rusty red, and a guard saw him coming through the bars and opened so that he could follow the snow-white hall which was flecked and cracked and pitted, and so he came to more bars. There was a dusty white courtyard. The first section was on the left. It was white, of course, with bars. That was for the prisoners with one to fifteen years. Behind the courtyard's single tree was the Asab section: fifteen years to life.
Well, thought the Angel biliously, let's see who's good now. The man's face was sick and cratered. He was dull-eyed and stinking, and there were scars all over his skinny body. The guards allowed him to sit down. Otherwise they would have been compelled to hold him up.
I get a sickness all around my penis, the man said. I got a small boil on penis, then I scratch it.
Are you a thief?
A looter.
Weakly he smoothed his sweaty hair.
First I have stab someone with a knife to get fifty shillings, the man said. Police complained and put me here.
Can you read?
No.
Do you know the Qur'an?
Yes.
Do you think about it now?
If I think about the Qur'an I know I am destroyed for everything. So I don't think about it anymore.
So you feel alone, do you?
I—I don't have a wife. My family is still alive. They too are hungry. They too are looters.
The Angel paced. — You know Whom I work for. He's preparing the sea of fire for you right now. Do you have anything further to say?
The man looked at him. — The only thing I can tell you is that I am sick, and if I can get some medicines I am better.
You know there's no medicine for you, the Angel said. You know that you were born for burning.
I want to be good, the man whispered. I want to be different, but my problems are not different.
Ah, so he wants to improve, the Angel smiled to the guards. Well, what can I recommend? I know! Why don't you practice screaming? You really ought to get your lungs in shape.
Airport Waiting Room, Coral Harbour,
Southampton Island, Northwest Territories,
Canada (1993)
I want to go back to jail because people are so friendly there, the smiling man said. Well, maybe I can put in a word for you, said the Angel modestly.
I did two months and two-and-a-half months and four months, crowed the smiling man. For sexual assault. And in jail I learned to walk like this!
The smiling man shuffled back and forth across the floor, turning his head blankly from side to side. The Inuit girls laughed and cringed back.
I'm going to Winnipeg to get my head examined by three psychiatrists, he said proudly. I won't be back for a long time, maybe two years.
He lay down in fetal position on the floor.
I really like the food in jail, too, the smiling man said. (There was something in his eyes like crawly white ice on the blue sea.) It's the best food in the world.
On the other hand, said the Angel in delight at his own sagacity, if you want to go back to prison, then you must not deserve to go. That's how we've always operated.
At this, the man leaped to his feet and screamed horribly. The Inuit girls screamed at his scream and ran outside.
A Brothel with No Name, Kong Toi, Bangkok,
Phrah Nakhon-Thonburi Province, Thailand (1993)
The room had a rectangle cut in the door so that the keeper could peer in. It was the small prison, the short-time prison. There was a pallet with two round pillows. The pallet ran from wall to wall. It had a veneer of plastic paper which pretended to be wood, and it was sticky from the sweat of naked bodies. Beside it was the knee-high basin with the hosepipe; that was where she squatted afterward; and then the plastic cup for used rubbers.
Within seconds, the tiny room reeked of her purple lipstick.
Twice she pulled him out to make certain that the condom hadn't broken. Each time she fiddled with it again. All the girls believed that death was spread mainly by angels.
The sweat dripped down from his face onto her face, making her lipstick shine. She maintained her phony smile that never changed. She was the one who when he'd gazed into the large prison, the glass area where numbered girls sat (pink lights on the girls' rosy meat) had tried to cover up her number with her towel, so she was the one he'd picked. Reluctance meant guilt and badness, so it was his mission to lock his wings around her and bring her to Hell.
When he tried to kiss her, she pulled away. So he kissed her again and spat into her desperate mouth.
Because he was not an evil angel and because he was off duty, he put his hand on top of her head to keep his thrusts from banging her against the wall. Then he ejaculated right through the condom, a burning manna of nectar and rose-sweat. Now she would become immortal. Now she could suffer forever, as soon as he pulled the trigger.
But she never said anything. She didn't pretend she wanted to be good; she didn't argue, plead, explain, or justify.
And the angel was unnerved by her nothingness, her heavy dark acquiescence. If she had only cursed or pleaded!
I want to be good ... he whispered, rising and tiptoeing away.
Wailea, Maui, Hawaii, U.S.A. (1993)
Within that complex polygon known as a swimming pool, water lilted in dapplings stolen from the throats of blue giraffes. Inside these unsteady zones the fixed rectangles of individual tiles remained, like bones. Along one wall a waterfall had been built to correspond to any number of blue wedding cakes; at the two far ends were blue wells which resembled immense toilets. A fat pale man descended grimly into one of these, looking warily down. Once he was safely inside, the back of his head alone remained visible, rocking slightly like a carrot-top in a breeze. On the outside of his prison another man sat, just above his waist in water, with a gold medal against his hairy breast. He wore blue sunglasses and his forehead was sickeningly white. A blonde lady in green glasses joined him, squatting coyly to keep her buttocks out of the water. From time to time they both looked at their waterproof watches. Then they resumed their gazing down into the pool. After she got out, he stood up and watched her. Then he followed. — Goggles will do it, he whispered. — Behind them, in a canvas pavilion open to the sea, a woman in a purple bikini rubbed lotion in slow circular motions on her soft haunches. Another woman ventured ankle-deep into the pool, her hands on her fat hips as she gazed alertly from side to side. After a long pause, she slashed water from her wrists up to her elbows. She stood for another moment, and then she got out. Ripples went from her like the indentations over a belly's ribs.
The man in the toilet was thinking with a swimmer's breasting motion. He whirled his head to glare at the women. Among them he saw a sinister lady in blue goggles.
You're the one, aren't you? he said. I see your sordid soul.
The lady grinned. — That's right. Do you have a last request?
It's not fair, the Angel said. I always did what I was told.
Now you're talking to please Him, but you know He's disconnected your phone, the lady said.
I only left one unburned. How could that whore matter?
You did a fine job, the lady said. He doesn't argue about that. It's just that your number's up. And you know what, buddy? You were right in what you said. She didn't matter. Because, you see, He doesn't have mercy. Ever. Did you forget that? The sentence says that I'm to burn you forever by inches. Are you ready to start?
The Angel ducked his head under the water, thinking to enjoy the coolness while he could. Then he began to clamber out. There were invisible bars in the sky which the lady swung back for him, unlocking air with the key that had once been his.
This is your towel, the lady said.
The Angel lay down. Inside the giant toilet rang the shrieks of the other punished souls. He tried to enjoy their agony, but couldn't. He stared hopelessly at all the palmtrees as fresh and proud as peacocks' tails.
BUTTERFLY STORIES (II)
Sacramento, California, U.S.A. (1992)
* * *
Sacramento, California, U.S.A. (1992)
It was the morning after her first night of work in the Chinese restaurant which was also a dancehall. How many men danced with you? I said.
Two.
And all you did was dance?
She looked me in the eye. — No.
How were they? I said.
Better than you.
Once you told me I was good.
That was a long time ago.
So they were good too, I guess.
The first one made me come six times. He wanted to do it all night, but he hadn't paid for all night, so I made him stop.
How about the second one?
He's so good I'm going to marry him. I can't get enough of him inside me.
How much did he pay?
Nothing. He was so good, I wouldn't take anything from him. I took all the money the first one gave me and gave it to him. That's why I got fired.
And you're happy?
Of course I'm happy. I'm leaving you and I'm going to get married. I'm going to have the best cock in the world all to myself.
I guess you will.
I guess I will, darling.
What are you going to do for work?
He knows the old lady here. He's going to try to get me my job back. He's going to tell her how good I was.
So you'll be working here?
I hope so.
Are you working now?
What do you mean?
I mean, if I paid you right now, would you go to bed with me one more time?
With you? No. You're not my customer.
If I were paying you I'd be your customer.
You can't ever be my customer. You're not anything but somebody I used to fuck a long time ago.
Yesterday wasn't such a long time ago.
Yes it was.
How much did the first one pay you?
A million dollars, all right? Now leave me alone.
I have five hundred dollars. I'll give it to you if I can have half an hour with you.
Where did you get five hundred dollars?
I just got it. I got it to give you.
And the whole time we were together you never even got me roses.
That was different. That was because we were together. But you said we're not together anymore, so I have to give you something special if I want to love you one more time.
Well, five hundred dollars is special enough, I guess. Half an hour. Come into this room. But you have to wear a rubber, and you can't kiss me.
Why?
Because I don't love you anymore. I'm engaged to someone else.
What will you do if I kiss you?
Your half hour just started. One minute's already gone. I only have to see you for another twenty-nine more minutes, and then I get five hundred dollars and I never have to see you again.
I don't think it's fair to start counting before you shut the door.
There. Now the door is shut. Will you unbutton the back of my blouse?
Did the other two do that?
I wasn't wearing this blouse. But they would have done it, and they would have loved it.
There you are.
Do you like how I pull it over my head? I can feel you looking at my back. My naked back. I can feel your eyes on the hooks of my bra. Do you want to unhook my bra? My tits are excited. My nipples are hard because in a minute you're going to unhook my bra and then I'm going to turn around and shove my tits into your mouth and that's the last time you'll ever be allowed to suck my tits.
What are those bruises above your collarbone?
Love-bites. From those two men. Especially the second one. My whole body smells like him.
I can't smell any other smell but yours.
Oh, yes you can. You can smell those other men all over me. That man-smell's as strong as gasoline. You can see the gashes from their fingernails and everything. But you won't admit it. It would be too humiliating. You'd start to cry, you pathetic jerk.
Are you going to take your underpants off?
You heard me. I told you you had to suck my tits before you could do anything else. Look how hard they are. I'm going to make you suck them until you can taste the other men's spit and breath and sweat.
No.
Do you want to stick it in or don't you?
I don't want to do it anymore.
You changed your mind? Fine. But you still owe me five hundred dollars.
No.
No what?
I said no.
I could see it coming. I should have known. Well, my new husband will beat the shit out of you. Why don't you run on home and wait? I'll give him the key that used to be mine. He'll come over today and break your arms and legs. He's really good at that. That's his job. Here goes my blouse again. Are you going to button me back up or are you going to renege on that too?
I'm going to rip your underpants off and rape you.
I'd like to see
you try. All I have to do is look at you and it goes limp. You couldn't rape a jellyfish.
Did you ever love me?
I don't remember. I don't think so. But I felt sorry for you sometimes. I feel sorry for you now. You don't have five hundred dollars, do you?
No.
You just wanted to look at me one more time.
The Atlas Page 38
