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Corpus Chrome, Inc.

Page 24

by S. Craig Zahler


  The smiling men giggled and said, “The king who never smiles has a surprise for you!”

  “Has he finally found a worthy suitor?” asked the princess, suddenly hopeful.

  The smiling men did not answer, but instead giggled and minced about on the long toes of their bare feet. In the corner, the blind girl played five ugly notes, and the old man yodeled.

  The motes dispersed and rendered

  a gold hallway. The princess entered this place and sat upon a bier that was made of jade. Four fat men who wore bloodstained diapers raised the royal platform and carried it forward. The smiling men followed, prancing.

  The motes dispersed and rendered

  a white chamber. Its walls, floor and ceiling were covered with Chinese ideograms that were nearly the same shade of white as the surface upon which they had been painted. The fat men with bloodstained diapers carried the princess’s bier through this chamber. Following behind them, the two smiling men looked at one of the myriad ideograms. The isolated ideogram was itself comprised of thousands of tiny ideograms.

  The motes dispersed and rendered

  a chamber that was peopled by five hundred armored swordsmen. The fat men with bloodstained diapers carried the princess’s bier into this room and down the aisle. Each swordsman cut his arm when the princess passed. Blood dripped onto the marble, echoing throughout the room. The smiling men pranced behind the bier.

  The motes dispersed and became

  the royal antechamber. The fat men with bloodstained diapers carried the princess’s bier across this room. A very tall man guarded the next door. His sword was huge and had twenty-nine tempered-steel blades.

  (‘I hope he uses that in a fight,’ mouthed Snapdragon silently.)

  The very tall man raised his weapon. Green brazier light played upon the straight, curved, forked, corkscrewed and serrated blades. The very tall man knelt before the bier and said, “The king who never smiles is ready to see the princess.” He pricked himself with the polybladed sword and was cut twenty-nine times. Each of his wounds dripped blood onto the marble floor.

  Two stone doors opened. The fat men with bloodstained diapers carried the bier forward, their feet splashing in the tall man’s blood. Behind the bier, the smiling men pranced.

  The motes dispersed and became

  a vast enclosure. Clouds hung beneath the ceiling, and the far end of the room was not visible. The fat men with bloodstained diapers carried the princess’s bier into the room, making bloody footprints upon the carpet, atop hundreds of similarly shaped brown stains. Behind the bier, the smiling men pranced.

  Snapdragon and Autumn watched the princess and her retinue traverse the chamber for eighteen minutes. (The Asian boy spent most of this time pondering forts and peanut elephants.)

  The princess raised a spyglass to her eye, aimed it and said, “I see my father.” “What is the king who never smiles doing?” asked the smiling men. “He is painting upon a solitary rice grain.” “What image is he painting upon the rice grain?” The princess put a special attachment upon the spyglass, peered through and said, “I must hold the spyglass very still in order to see such a small canvas.”

  Snapdragon and Autumn watched the Chinese woman adjust her telescope for four minutes.

  “I see his art!” exclaimed the princess. “What is the subject matter?” inquired the smiling men. “My father is painting an image of us approaching his throne. He is currently detailing my magnified right eye!” “Wonderful!” exclaimed the smiling men.

  The princess waved to her father. “Did the king who never smiles return your salutation?” asked the smiling men. “No. That would have required him to put down his paintbrush and rice grain.” “He is devoted to his art,” responded the smiling men. The princess announced, “We shall lunch upon this hillock.”

  The fat men with bloodstained diapers set the bier upon the hillock.

  The eleven-year-olds watched the princess eat a bowl of rice for twenty-eight minutes, during which time, the royal personage commented upon the unique character of each and every grain. (Snapdragon prayed for the violent return of the man with the polybladed sword.)

  The fat men with bloodstained diapers carried the princess’s bier across a bridge. Below them, the smiling men danced across the water on the tips of their long toes.

  The fat men with bloodstained diapers carried the princess’s bier across seven hills and into a forest that was filled with domestic black bears. One of the beasts approached the bier and roared. Its teeth had been pulled out and replaced with jade fangs.

  “That’s very cruel,” said Autumn, her voice freezing the pixels in the mote aquarium. “Resume play.”

  “That is beautiful,” the princess said of the bear’s jade teeth.

  The bier was borne out of the forest and to the tallest mountain within the royal chamber. Prancing behind them were the smiling men.

  Snapdragon and Autumn watched the fat eunuchs and the smiling men struggle up the snow-covered mountain for nineteen minutes.

  The princess grew excited and pointed. “There he is!” said she. “The king who never smiles, my father.”

  Seated upon a throne that had been carved from the mountaintop was a strong old man with very long eyebrows. He wore turquoise robes, green ribbons and a jade crown upon his head. The fat men with bloodstained diapers, the smiling men and the princess were filled with awe.

  The king who never smiles looked at his daughter and said with a voice like thunder, “You are nearly a woman.” The princess became nervous. “I have found a suitor,” said the king who never smiles. The princess’s eyes widened with joy. The king who never smiles pointed to a coffin that was made out of jade and silver.

  The princess asked, “May I open it and look upon him?”

  “You may not,” boomed the king who never smiles. The princess was saddened by this announcement, but did not question her father. “Before you are allowed to look upon him, you must complete the Ritual of the Lapdog,” declared the king who never smiles. “I do not know how to perform this ritual,” said the princess.

  The king who never smiles pointed to a small ivory box that lay beside his feet. “Come hither,” said he. The fat men with bloodstained diapers lowered the bier, and the princess walked toward the peak. Stones and ice poked her feet through her silk slippers. Pained, she cried out.

  “Do not make animal noises,” admonished the king who never smiles. “Common people may yell or grunt without purpose, but everything that a royal does is important and will be remembered.”

  The princess withheld her cries as she trod upon the sharp terrain. Soon, she reached the ivory box, knelt and opened the lid. A small white dog with large eyes, a wagging tongue and a pushed-in face looked up at her and barked twice.

  “I love him!” said Autumn, her voice freezing the pixels in the mote aquarium. “I want to look at him.”

  Snapdragon stood up and helped his guest to her feet. The knee joint in the girl’s polymer leg clicked loudly, but the boy pretended not to notice.

  “I don’t need help,” Autumn stated, “but thank you.”

  Together, the children walked to the frozen lapdog. Shards of light were captured in the animal’s bulging eyes, and a leonine mane sprouted from its neck; surrounding its paws were puffy boots of brindled fur. A lone bead of moisture stood upon its black nose.

  The eleven-year-olds viewed the little beast from all sides and, after a second orbit, returned to the air bench. “Resume play,” said the girl, pleased with her inspection.

  The princess looked from the lapdog to the king who never smiles and awaited an explanation. Instead of speaking, the king who never smiles peeled a tangerine.

  For eleven minutes, Snapdragon and Autumn watched the patriarch pull skin from the fruit, withdraw its s
eeds with sharp ivory chopsticks and arrange the isolated segments upon a stone plate.

  “The Ritual of the Lapdog,” the king who never smiles said, “is how I determined that your mother should be my queen.” The lord ate a tangerine segment. “The lapdog is to be the intermediary between you and your suitor. While you are performing the Ritual of the Lapdog, you and your suitor may not look upon each other, nor may you touch each other. The cloud of lust is created by the exchange of such gazes and sensations, and thus, they are forbidden. You, my daughter, will speak to the lapdog as if it were your suitor, and the suitor shall speak to the lapdog as if it were the princess.

  “After three years of canine proxy, I will examine the lapdog and determine, from its health and humor, whether you two are well matched.”

  The king who never smiles arose from his throne, and his supernatural shadow darkened the entire mountainside. And the lord said, “Follow the terms of the ritual without deviation. If you should look upon each other once or touch each other once, the ritual is nullified.”

  “Thank you,” said the princess.

  The king who never smiles sat upon his throne and reclaimed his supernatural shadow. “You may take the lapdog,” said he. “I will have the coffin with the suitor delivered to your tower so that the two of you may begin the ritual. Leave me now.”

  The princess bowed, cradled the lapdog in her arms and boarded the bier. Quietly, the men with bloodstained diapers carried her down the mountain. A cloud concealed the procession, and hidden within it, the princess cried.

  Snapdragon rose from his seat and walked to the bathroom. On his return trip, he detoured into the kitchen, ate three scoops of peanut elephant ice cream, drank a cup of chocolate milk, burped and washed his hands.

  “What’d I miss?” the boy asked his guest, his voice freezing the pixels in the mote aquarium.

  “The princess and her suitor are about to have their first dinner in the banquet hall.”

  “No fighting or anything good?”

  “It’s not that kind of a story.”

  Yawning, Snapdragon said, “Resume play.”

  Platters filled with roasted meats, golden snow peas, purple lobsters and sesame lo mein covered the banquet table. The princess sat in a jade throne, where she was separated from the unseen suitor by a rice-paper wall. Her lapdog was at the far end of the table, nestled in an opalescent pillow.

  To the canine proxy, the princess said, “Please tell the suitor that I am pleased to finally share a room with him.” The animal looked away from the princess and toward the man behind the rice-paper screen.

  “Please inform the princess,” the unseen suitor responded, “that I am very impressed by the food and the banquet hall.” The lapdog looked at the princess.

  The princess said, “Please tell the suitor that his voice has a pleasing cadence.” The lapdog looked at the unseen suitor.

  The unseen suitor responded, “Please inform the princess—

  Snapdragon fell asleep.

  * * *

  The boy awakened.

  The princess was seated in the rear of a barge, which men with bloodstained diapers rowed across an indoor lake. To her left was a rice-paper screen, behind which sat the unseen suitor. In a tiny white dinghy tethered to the back of the vessel sat the lapdog, trembling and skinny.

  “Please inform the princess that we should withdraw the phalanx!” the unseen suitor barked at the lapdog. The animal in the dinghy turned its anxious face toward the princess.

  “Please tell the suitor that only a person with peasant blood in his veins would yield the western towers so easily,” responded the princess, her words like icicles. The shaking animal gnawed fur on its haunches and coughed.

  “Please inform the princess that the western towers have been in disrepair for six centuries and—”

  “Please tell the suitor that such information is irrelevant!”

  The bewildered lapdog did not know where to look.

  “Please inform the princess that if she bequeaths the long-neglected western towers, her kingdom will grow rather than be diminished by warfare!”

  The lapdog nervously chewed its haunches and whimpered.

  “Please tell the cowardly suitor that—”

  Snapdragon fell asleep.

  * * *

  The boy awakened from a dream in which the mote aquarium experience had concluded with a spectacular robot battle. Looking at the stage, he saw the princess (who was currently sitting sidesaddle upon a white horse) and silently mouthed the word “Crap.”

  The smiling men carried a rice-paper screen alongside the horseback princess. Sitting on the back of a donkey that walked two meters ahead of the princess and the unseen suitor was the lapdog, which was now calm and plump.

  “Please ask the suitor for his thoughts upon the speech that I have written for the people of the western towers.” The lapdog swiveled its fat head toward the unseen suitor.

  “Please inform the princess that her speech is a masterful weaving of philosophic and patriotic threads, and that her verse is more musical than a ghost-face’s sonnet.”

  “The speech was beautiful,” Autumn informed Snapdragon, her voice freezing the pixels.

  “Uh-huh,” the boy replied in the middle of a yawn. “Resume play.” The motes stirred, and once again, the weary host fell asleep.

  * * *

  Snapdragon awakened from a kissing dream. On the mote aquarium stage, the princess stood directly before her father, who was seated in his throne that was the mountaintop.

  “Crap,” muttered the boy, freezing the pixels. “Resume play.”

  The rice-paper screen that concealed the unseen suitor was on the mountain beside the princess. Above them, the king who never smiles looked down and said, “It has been three years since you began the Ritual of the Lapdog.” The lord leaned over and lifted the ivory box.

  For sixteen minutes, Snapdragon and Autumn watched the king who never smiles examine the lapdog’s tongue, teeth, gums, lips, beard, tear ducts, snout, spine, follicles, toe nails and tail. The patriarch shaved a rectangle of fur from the animal’s haunches, revealing skin that bore the scars of nibbling.

  The king who never smiles addressed the princess and the unseen suitor, “The canine proxy evinces fourteen months of hostility between you. Was it so?”

  “It was so,” said the princess and the unseen suitor.

  “The canine proxy evinces twenty-two months of harmony between you. Is it so?”

  “It is so,” said the princess and the unseen suitor.

  “It was this way between the queen and myself. The joining of two willful spirits is a very difficult enterprise.”

  The king who never smiles set the lapdog upon the ground, looked upon his daughter and said, “Princess.” “Yes, my father?” “Upon a grain of rice, paint the image of the suitor as you imagine him to be.” “I shall.” The princess then painted an image of the unseen suitor.

  “Suitor.” “Yes, my king?” “Upon a grain of rice, paint the image of the princess as you imagine her to be.” “I shall.” The king who never smiles and the princess waited while the unseen suitor painted.

  And then the lord said to them both, “Forever keep this portrait that you have painted, for it is the true form of your partner.”

  The king who never smiles rose from his throne that was the mountaintop. He then willed his supernatural shadow to go east, and it did. “Ladymen,” said the king who never smiles to smiling men. “Yes?” replied they. “Remove the rice-paper screen so that the princess and the suitor may finally look upon each other.” The screen was removed.

  The princess and the suitor then saw each other for the first time.

  The suitor was thin and tall and had big ears.
He looked unlike the handsome man whom the princess had painted upon the grain of rice, yet she exclaimed, “You look just like the picture that I painted!” The princess wept with joy, unable to see that he was not the handsome man of her imaginings.

  “And you look just like the picture that I painted!” exclaimed the suitor, unable to see the discrepancies between the sizable princess and the petite woman of his imaginings.

  The king who never smiles said, “You are now wed.”

  The princess kissed her suitor, who was now the prince.

  And on that day, the king who never smiles became the king who smiled once.

 

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