Queer

by William S. Burroughs

"People would think we were Siamese twins. Did I ever tell you about the Siamese twin who turned his brother in to the law to get him off the junk? But to get back to this tailor. I took the pants in with another pair. These pants is too voluminous,' I told him. 'I want them sewed down to the same size as this other pair here.' He promised to do the job in two days. That was more than two months ago. 'Mañana,' 'más tarde,' 'ahora,' 'ahorita,' and every time I come to pick up the pants it's 'todavía no'—not yet. Yesterday I had all the 'ahora' routine I can stand still for. So I told him, 'Ready or no, give me my pants.' The pants was all cut down the seams. I told him, Two months and all you have done is disembowel my trousers.' I took them to another tailor and told him, 'Sew them up.' Are you hungry?"

  "I am, as a matter of fact."

  "How about Pat's Steak House?"

  "Good idea."

  Pat's served excellent steaks. Lee liked the place because it was never crowded. At Pat's he ordered a double dry martini. Allerton had rum and Coke. Lee began talking about telepathy.

  "I know telepathy to be a fact, since I have experienced it myself. I have no interest to prove it, or, in fact, to prove anything to anybody. What interests me is, how can I use it? In South America at the headwaters of the Amazon grows a plant called Yage that is supposed to increase telepathic sensitivity. Medicine men use it in their work. A Colombian scientist, whose name escapes me, isolated from Yage a drug he called Telepathine. I read all this in a magazine article.

  "Later I see another article—the Russians are using Yage in experiments on slave labor. It seems they want to induce states of automatic obedience and ultimately, of course, thought control. The basic con. No build-up, no spiel, no routine, just move in on someone's psyche and give orders. I have a theory the Mayan priests developed a form of one-way telepathy to con the peasants into doing all the work. The deal is certain to backfire eventually, because telepathy is not of its nature a one-way setup, nor a setup of sender and receiver at all.

  "By now the U.S. is experimenting with Yage, unless they are dumber even than I think. Yage may be a means to usable knowledge of telepathy. Anything that can be accomplished chemically can be accomplished in other ways." Lee saw that Allerton was not especially interested, and dropped the subject.

  "Did you read about the old Jew who tried to smuggle out ten pounds of gold sewed in his overcoat?"

  "No. What about it?"

  "Well, this old Jew was nailed at the airport on his way to Cuba. I hear they got like a mine finder out at the airport rings a bell if anybody passes the gate with an outlandish quantity of metal on his person. So it says in the papers, after they give this Jew a shake and find the gold, a large number of Jewish-looking foreigners were seen looking into the airport window in a state of excitement. 'Oy, gefilte fish! They are putting the snatch on Abe!' Back in Roman times the Jews rose up—in Jerusalem I think it was—and killed fifty thousand Romans. The she-Jews—that is, the young Jewish ladies, I must be careful not to lay myself open to a charge of anti-Semitism—

  done strip teases with Roman intestines.

  "Speaking of intestines, did I ever tell you about my friend Reggie? One of the unsung heroes of British Intelligence. Lost his ass and ten feet of lower intestine in the service. Lived for years disguised as an Arab boy known only as 'Number 69' at headquarters. That was wishful thinking, though, because the Arabs are strictly one way. Well, a rare Oriental disease set in, and poor Reggie lost the bulk of his tripes. For God and country, what? He didn't want any speeches, any medals, just to know that he had served, that was enough. Think of those patient years, waiting for another piece of the jigsaw puzzle to fall into place.

  "You never hear of operators like Reggie, but it is their information, gathered in pain and danger, that gives some front-line general the plan for a brilliant counter-offensive and covers his chest with medals. For example, Reggie was the first to guess the enemy was running short of petrol when the K. Y. jelly gave out, and that was only one of his brilliant coups. How about the T-bone steak for two?"

  "That's fine."

  "Rare?"

  "Medium rare."

  Lee was looking at the menu. "They list baked Alaska," he said. "Ever eat it?"

  "No."

  "Real good. Hot on the outside and cold inside."

  "That's why they call it baked Alaska I imagine."

  "Got an idea for a new dish. Take a live pig and throw it into a very hot oven so the pig is roasted outside and when you cut into it, it's still alive and twitching inside. Or, if we run a dramatic joint, a screaming pig covered with burning brandy rushes out of the kitchen and dies right by your chair.

  You can reach down and pull off the crispy, crackly ears and eat them with your cocktails."

  Outside, the City lay under a violet haze. A warm spring wind blew through the trees in the park.

  They walked through the park back to Lee's place, occasionally stopping to lean against each other, weak from laughing. A Mexican said, "Cabrones," as he walked by. Lee called after him,

  "Chinga tu madre," then added in English, "Here I come to your little jerkwater country and spend my good American dollars and what happens? Insulted inna public street." The Mexican turned, hesitating, Lee unbuttoned his coat and hooked his thumb under the pistol at his waistband. The Mexican walked on.

  "Someday they won't walk away," said Lee.

  At Lee's apartment they had some brandy. Lee put his arm around Allerton's shoulder.

  "Well, if you insist," said Allerton.

  Sunday night Allerton had dinner at Lee's apartment. Lee cooked chicken livers, because Allerton always wanted to order chicken liver in restaurants, and usually restaurant chicken liver isn't fresh. After dinner Lee began making love to Allerton, but he rejected Lee's advances and said he wanted to go to the Ship Ahoy and drink a rum Coke. Lee turned out the light and embraced Allerton before they started out the door. Allerton's body was rigid with annoyance.

  When they arrived at the Ship Ahoy, Lee went to the bar and ordered two rum Cokes. "Make those extra strong," he said to the bartender.

  Allerton was sitting at a table with Mary. Lee brought the rum Coke over and set it down by Allerton. Then he sat down at a table with Joe Guidry. Joe Guidry had a young man with him. The young man was telling how he was treated by an Army psychiatrist. "So what did you find out from your psychiatrist?" said Guidry. His voice had a nagging, derogatory edge.

  "I found out I was an Oedipus, I found out I love my mother."

  "Why, everybody loves their mother, son," said Guidry.

  "I mean I love my mother physically."

  "I don't believe that, son," said Guidry. This struck Lee as funny, and he began to laugh.

  "I hear Jim Cochan has gone back to the States," said Guidry. "He plans to work in Alaska."

  "Thank God I am a gentleman of independent means, and don't have to expose myself to the inclemencies of near-Arctic conditions," said Lee. "By the way, did you ever meet Jim's wife, Alice? My god, she is an American bitch that won't quit. I never yet see her equal. Jim does not have one friend he can take to the house. She has forbidden him to eat out, as she does not want he should take in any nourishment unless she is there to watch him eat it. Did you ever hear the likes of that? Needless to say, my place is out of bounds to Jim, and he always has that hunted look when he comes to see me. I don't know why American men put up with such shit from a woman.

  Of course I am no expert judge of female flesh, but Alice has 'lousy lay' writ all over her scrawny, unappetizing person."

  "You're coming on mighty bitchy tonight, Lee," said Guidry.

  "And not without reason. Did I tell you about this Wigg person? He is an American hipster around town, a junky who is said to play a cool bass fiddle. Strictly on the chisel, even though he has gold, and he's always mooching junk, saying 'No, I don't want to buy any. I'm kicking. I just want half a fix.' I have had all I can stand still for from this character. Driving around in a new three-thousand-dollar Chrys
ler, and too cheap to buy his own junk. What am I, the Junky's Benevolent Society for christ sake? This Wigg is as ugly as people get."

  "You making it with him?" asked Guidry, which seemed to shock his young friend.

  "Not even. I got bigger fish to fry," said Lee. He glanced over at Allerton, who was laughing at something Mary had said.

  "Fish is right," quipped Guidry. "Cold, slippery, and hard to catch."

  Chapter 5

  Lee had an appointment with Allerton for eleven o'clock Monday morning to go to the National Pawn Shop and get his camera out of hock. Lee came to Allerton's room and woke him up exactly at eleven. Allerton was sullen. He seemed on the point of going back to sleep. Finally Lee said, "Well, are you going to get up now, or . . ."

  Allerton opened his eyes and blinked like a turtle. "I'm getting up," he said.

  Lee sat down and read a newspaper, careful to avoid watching Allerton dress. He was trying to control his hurt and anger, and the effort exhausted him. A heavy drag slowed movement and thought. Lee's face was rigid, his voice toneless. The strain continued through breakfast. Alierton sipped tomato juice in silence.

  It took all day to get the camera. Alierton had lost the ticket. They went from one office to another.

  The officials shook their heads and drummed on the table, waiting. Lee put out two hundred pesos extra in bites. He finally paid the four hundred pesos, plus interest and various charges. He handed the camera to Alierton, who took it without comment.

  They went back to the Ship Ahoy in silence. Lee went in and ordered a drink. Alierton disappeared. About an hour later he came in and sat with Lee.

  "How about dinner tonight?" asked Lee.

  Allerton said, "No, I think I'll work tonight."

  Lee was depressed and shattered. The warmth and laughter of Saturday night was lost, and he did not know why. In any relation of love or friendship Lee attempted to establish contact on the non-verbal level of intuition, a silent exchange of thought and feeling. Now Alierton had abruptly shut off contact, and Lee felt a physical pain as though a part of himself tentatively stretched out towards the other had been severed, and he was looking at the bleeding stump in shock and disbelief.

  Lee said, "Like the Wallace administration, I subsidize non-production. I will pay you twenty pesos not to work tonight." Lee was about to develop the idea, but Allerton's impatient coolness stopped him. He fell silent, looking at Allerton with shocked, hurt eyes.

  Allerton was nervous and irritable, drumming on the table and looking around. He did not himself understand why Lee annoyed him.

  "How about a drink?" Lee said.

  "No. Not now. Anyway, I have to go."

  Lee got up jerkily. "Well, I'll see you," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

  "Yes. Good night."

  He left Lee standing there, trying to formulate a plan to keep Allerton from going, to make an appointment for the next day, to mitigate in some way the hurt he had received.

  Allerton was gone. Lee felt for the back of his chair and lowered himself into it, like a man weak from illness. He stared at the table, his thoughts slow, as if he were very cold.

  The bartender placed a sandwich in front of Lee. "Huh?" said Lee. "What's this?"

  "The sandwich you ordered."

  "Oh, yes." Lee took a few bites out of the sandwich, washing it down with water. "On my bill, Joe,"

  he called to the bartender.

  He got up and walked out. He walked slowly. Several times he leaned on a tree, looking at the ground as if his stomach hurt. Inside his apartment he took off his coat and shoes, and sat down on the bed. His throat began to ache, moisture hit his eyes, and he fell across the bed, sobbing convulsively. He pulled his knees up and covered his face with his hands, the fists clenched.

  Towards morning he turned on his back and stretched out. The sobs stopped, and his face relaxed in the morning light.

  Lee woke up around noon, and sat for a long time on the edge of the bed with one shoe dangling from his hand. He dabbed water on his eyes, put on his coat, and went out.

  Lee went down to the Zócalo and wandered around for several hours. His mouth was dry. He went into a Chinese restaurant, sat down in a booth and ordered a Coke. Misery spread through his body, now that he was sitting down with no motion to distract him. "What happened?" he wondered.

  He forced himself to look at the facts. Allerton was not queer enough to make a reciprocal relation possible. Lee's affection irritated him. Like many people who have nothing to do, he was resentful of any claims on his time. He had no close friends. He disliked definite appointments. He did not like to feel that anybody expected anything from him. He wanted, so far as possible, to live without external pressure. Allerton resented Lee's action in paying to recover the camera. He felt he was "being sucked in on a phony deal," and that an obligation he did not want had been thrust upon him.

  Allerton did not recognize friends who made six-hundred-peso gifts, nor could he feel comfortable exploiting Lee. He made no attempt to clarify the situation. He did not want to see the contradiction involved in resenting a favor which he accepted. Lee found that he could tune in on Allerton's viewpoint, though the process caused him pain, since it involved seeing the extent of Allerton's indifference. "I liked him and I wanted him to like me," Lee thought. "I wasn't trying to buy anything."

  "I have to leave town," he decided. "Go somewhere. Panama, South America." He went down to the station to find out when the next train left for Veracruz. There was a train that night, but he did not buy a ticket. A feeling of cold desolation came over him at the thought of arriving alone in another country, far away from Allerton.

  Lee took a cab to the Ship Ahoy. Allerton was not there, and Lee sat at the bar for three hours, drinking. Finally Allerton looked in the door, waved to Lee vaguely, and went upstairs with Mary.

  Lee knew they had probably gone to the owner's apartment, where they often ate dinner.

  He went up to Tom Weston's apartment. Mary and Allerton were there. Lee sat down and tried to engage Allerton's interest, but he was too drunk to make sense. His attempt to carry on a casual, humorous conversation was painful to watch.

  Ale must have slept. Mary and Allerton were gone. Tom Weston brought him some hot coffee. He drank the coffee, got up and staggered out of the apartment. Exhausted, he slept till the following morning.

  Scenes from the chaotic, drunken month passed before his eyes. There was a face he did not recognize, a good-looking kid with amber eyes, yellow hair and beautiful straight black eyebrows.

  He saw himself asking someone he barely knew to buy him a beer in a bar on Insurgentes, and getting a nasty brush. He saw himself pull a gun on someone who followed him out of a clip joint on Coahuila and tried to roll him. He felt the friendly, steadying hands of people who had helped him home. "Take it easy, Bill." His childhood friend Rollins standing there, solid and virile, with his elkhound. Carl running for a streetcar. Moor with his malicious hitch smile. The faces blended together in a nightmare, speaking to him in strange moaning idiot voices that he could not understand at first, and finally could not hear.

  Lee got up and shaved and felt better. He found he could eat a roll and drink some coffee. He smoked and read the paper, trying not to think about Allerton. Presently he went downtown and looked through the gun stores. He found a bargain in a Colt Frontier, which he bought for two hundred pesos. A 32-20 in perfect condition, serial number in the three hundred thousands.

  Worth at least a hundred dollars Stateside.

  Lee went to the American bookstore and bought a book on chess. He took the book out to Chapultepec, sat down in a soda stand on the lagoon, and began to read. Directly in front of him was an island with a huge cypress tree growing on it. Hundreds of vultures roosted in the tree.

  Lee wondered what they ate. He threw a piece of bread, which landed on the island. The vultures paid no attention.

  Lee was interested in the theory of games and the strategy of random behavior. As
he had supposed, the theory of games does not apply to chess, since chess rules out the element of chance and approaches elimination of the unpredictable human factor. If the mechanism of chess were completely understood, the outcome could be predicted after any initial move. "A game for thinking machines," Lee thought. He read on, smiling from time to time. Finally he got up, sailed the book out over the lagoon, and walked away.

  Lee knew he could not find what he wanted with Allerton. The court of fact had rejected his petition. But Lee could not give up. "Perhaps I can discover a way to change fact," he thought. He was ready to take any risk, to proceed to any extreme of action. Like a saint or a wanted criminal with nothing to lose, Lee had stepped beyond the claims of his nagging, cautious, aging, frightened flesh.

  He took a taxi to the Ship Ahoy. Allerton was standing in front of the Ship Ahoy, blinking sluggishly in the sunlight. Lee looked at him and smiled. Allerton smiled back.

  "How are you?"

  "Sleepy. Just got up." He yawned and started into the Ship Ahoy. He moved one hand—"See you"— and sat down at the bar and ordered tomato juice. Lee went in and sat beside him, and ordered a double rum Coke. Allerton moved and sat down at a table with Tom Weston. "Bring the tomato juice over here, will you, Joe?" he called to the bartender.

  Lee sat at the table next to Allerton's. Tom Weston was leaving. Allerton followed him out. He came back in and sat in the other room, reading the papers. Mary came in and sat down with him.

  After talking for a few minutes, they set up the chess board.

  Lee had thrown down three drinks. He walked over and pulled up a chair to the table where Mary and Allerton were playing chess. "Howdy," he said. "Don't mind if I kibitz?"

  Mary looked up annoyed, but smiled when she met Lee's steady, reckless gaze.

  "I was reading up on chess. Arabs invented it, and I'm not surprised. Nobody can sit like an Arab.

  The classical Arab chess game was simply a sitting contest. When both contestants starved to death it was a stalemate." Lee paused and took a long drink.