The Willow Tree: A Novel

by Hubert Selby

  When Maria was back in her bed she lay still for hours, seemingly not breathing, seeing the nurses face and hearing her words. She understood the words, but she didnt know what she meant, but she did know what the nurse meant by the tone of her voice and the look on her face. From time to time a shiver would go through Maria as the nurses face came right up to hers and silently laughed in her face and Maria could feel a whimper in her chest but everything remained silent even as the nurses words continued to go through her head, time after time, after time, and her face continued to remain in front of her, from time to time threatening to suffocate her, everything else disappearing, there being only Maria and the nurses face and words, and Maria trying to understand what she had done, why the nurse said the things she had and what they meant about Marias face…would she get better? The doctor said she would be alright, she wouldnt the…ugly…street dirt…cant patch up…and Maria wondered what she looked like, ever since it happened she wondered what she looked like, but now she was frozen with fear, nobody had said anything, but she said, Ugly, ugly, ugly….Ugly like what? What was she ugly like? The old woman in the Bodega with all the moles and hairs and warts???? But she was old. Older even than the bario, how could she be that ugly???? She was a big girl, but would never be so old and ugly….

  and Marias thoughts went round and round in confusion and terror, wondering what the nurse meant when she said she was a whore, she was no whore, not street dirt, she lived in an apartment with her mommy and everyone. What had she done to the nurse????

  and the internal sobbing continued to grow as Maria tried to somehow free herself from the onslaught of thoughts and images that were torturing her and she struggled to call to her mommy or god or something, anything to help her and somehow she started to slowly become aware of another sound in the room, an unfamiliar sound, one she had not noticed before and as she struggled with her pain, to break free of the images and words, the sound became louder and it finally forced her to move and she rolled over slightly and noticed the woman in the bed next to her struggling, moaning, trying to reach something and Maria squinted and tried to focus on her, to stare through the image of the nurse to see the woman and finally she could see she was trying to reach her water pitcher and was in a lot of pain each time she reached. Maria stared for a moment, her head still clouded with confusion, not knowing what she could do, not sure she was supposed to get out of bed, that if she did they might yell at her, but the longer she watched the woman struggling the more all the fears and concerns fell away and she slowly got up and leaned against her bed for a moment, then went over to the womans bed and picked up the water pitcher, This what you want? Yeah. Maria filled the womans glass with water and handed it to her, and put the pitcher where she could reach it. The woman took the pill from the cup on the table and swallowed it with the water then laid down and closed her eyes. Maria looked at her for a moment then hurried back to bed not wanting anyone to see her out of it.

  The woman continued to lay quietly, eyes closed, then eventually opened them and forced a smile on her face as she looked at Maria and thanked her. That bitch of a nurse just dropped the pain pill and wouldnt move the pitcher so I could reach it…and she knows how much it hurts for me to reach…it just tears my back apart…rotten bitch—Maria could feel her head nodding slightly but though she knew what the woman was saying she wasnt really aware of it, nothing seemed to be registering—I/d like to take a cigarette lighter to that bitches tits, let her see what its like…jesus….Sometimes it just doesnt pay to be nice, I should teller what I think of her….

  the woman was quiet for a moment, adjusting her body to try and find a comfortable position, then looked at Maria, How you doin kid?

  Maria wondered how she was? She couldnt seem to figure that out. She felt very scared, like something terrible was going to happen to her, but she didnt know what, just that terrible scared feeling in her stomach like when she didnt have her homework ready but only much, much worse. She tried to answer but didnt know what to say, seeming to be disconnected from herself and all the familiar surroundings looked strange somehow and she couldnt really figure anything out, like even where the bathroom was. She stared at the woman, blinking her eyes, I dont know.

  How you feel?

  My stomach hurts.

  Yeah?

  Its all fluttery like.

  O….You scared kid?

  I want to go home.

  Somethin happen before…or anythin? They hurt ya when they changed your bandages? Sometimes they can be kindda rough on ya, ya know?

  Whats plastic surgery? One day the doctor he said they give me plastic surgery.

  Well, thats sorta like when they fix up ya skin, ya know after its been burned, or somethin, like you…you know, so it looks nice. Like the movie stars are always gettin it so they look young.

  With plastic?

  Huh? Plastic?—frowning at Maria, wishing she could see her expression, or at least her eyes so she could figure out what she was talking about—O, you mean like in plastic bags and stuff?

  Sí.

  Naa—the woman smiled then chuckled—Naa, not that kindda plastic. Its kindda like…well…its kindda like stuff they put in ya skin an sometimes they sorta take skin from one place an stick it in another…ya know, like they borrow Peter to pay Paul. That sortta thing. But they dont use no plastic.

  I dont know what my face looks like. Can it be very ugly? I think maybe it is so terrible to see.

  Dont worry kid. Did that bitch in the treatment room say any thin to ya?

  She look funny at my face—Maria could feel her face pinch, and hurt, as she frowned trying to get through her confusion and fear and all the unknown invisible things that seem to wrap themselves around her—Im not bad…mommy say to me I am good girl—Maria shook her head—I dont know what I did to be so ugly.

  The woman could hear that Maria was on the verge of tears, Hey, you dont gotta worry, youre a sweet kid. Theyll fix ya up just fine. Really, youll be just as good as new.

  I dont know why I am so bad. My mommy, she cries, my grandmother, she cries…they beat up my boy friend an—You didn do that, you didnt do nothin, I can tell. Im a good judge a human nature an I know you didn do nothin.

  But everyone cries—

  Hey, whatta ya think, a mothers not gonna cry when her kids in the hospital? Sure shes gonna cry. A couple a years ago my youngest had tonsils, right here, downstairs, ya think I didn cry? Ya bet ya ass I did. Its alright kid.

  I must be bad if—

  Hey, thats crazy. Believe me—staring at Maria, her heart aching for the kid, trying to figure out what to say—I know youre alright, a good kid.

  No, no, to be so ugly one must be very bad…very bad.—Maria rolled over onto her back and closed her eyes, her body filled with her whimperings, her hands clenched, fingernails imbedded in her palms, her quiet sobs interrupting her prayers to jesus and the virgin Mary, trying to remember the act of contrition but only remembering, Forgive me Ive sinned and then trying to talk to Mary and tell her how much she loved the baby jesus, all my life I love the baby jesus, and you holy mother, blessed virgin mother of god O Im bad…so bad my mommy cries and I am so terrible ugly like dirt in the street, like all that garbage everywhere, everywhere and the rats that eat the garbage that smells so bad like all the rotten things and I must be a rotten thing to be punished so bad O I dont want to go to hell, Im afraid to the and go to hell and burn in flames but Im so bad I have to hide my face so people dont get sick O help me blessed virgin I always loved the baby jesus, help me help me….

  Her mother and grandmother came into the room and Maria rolled over and reached for her mothers hand and instantly a great sorrow took away the smile from the mothers face and the lightness of her heart, Mommy, mommy—and once again Isabella saw the tears coming from the slits in the bandages, the eyes of her daughter that always sparkled with such life from the very moment of her birth 13 years ago, those lovely brown so soft eyes that always looked at her with s
uch love but now they were only slits in white gauze and once again tears flowed from the slits as pain flowed from her little baby and the lightness, the hope of that day flowed away with the tears to be absorbed by the bandages.

  Isabella and her mother felt better that morning than they had since first hearing that Maria had been hurt. The night before they smiled over coffee, telling each other in so many ways that their little baby was safe, that she would live, that soon the doctors would fix everything and send their baby home to them and she will be as before. There seemed to be more fresh air coming through the windows, and less noise, than usual. And so again this morning, as well as more light, a light that seemed happier than other mornings with clouds and dampness and heavy odors and screamings from the streets. This morning the smell of coffee overwhelmed everything and the children went yelling down the stairs to school, and mother and grandmother got the soup ready to take to the hospital, and there seemed to be more strength in their legs, especially in those of the old woman, and the trip through the streets, the bus and then the hospital went with ease as they looked forward to once more sitting by the bed of their baby, their Maria.

  And then they were in her room and were instantly aware of her pain, feeling it wrap itself around them as they struggled to her bedside, the rigid, motionless little body on the bed seeming to scream and when it became aware of their presence it rolled and Marias agony could be heard as she called out to her mommy, reaching toward the frightened, confused women taking an eternity to reach her bed, their seeming to be a wave that kept pushing them back and no matter how much Maria reached they didnt seem to get any closer and she hung over the side of the bed as they reached to her but she seemed to be moving away just as they seemed to be fading away from Maria and time suddenly stopped but Marias folding over the edge continued but they could not get closer despite the stopping of time and they heard her tiny, pained voice crying like wind over waves, Mommy…mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy and Isabella called to her baby as the grandmothers prayers became louder and the woman in the next bed stared as moving bodies seemed to take forever to cross such a short distance, looking like a slow motion movie, their voices sounding scared even though she couldnt understand the words, but she kept blinking and shaking her head and then suddenly the mother was hugging the kid and the old woman was sort of hugging both of them and mumbling out loud and then the kid was back in the middle of the bed and the women were sitting down and it looked like it did all those other days, except now they were all talking at once and the kid was crying but soon they slowed down their talking and it got quiet and the woman once again closed her eyes and allowed the pain pill to ease her into a shallow sleep.

  Maria clung to her mommys arm, sobbing, telling her she was sorry, she would never do it again and her mother held her as close as she could and told her she had done nothing, confused and shocked by Marias fear and pain, not knowing what had suddenly happened and filled with fear that her baby was going to the and Maria kept talking abut how ugly she was and she must have done something wrong and Isabella kept telling her the doctor said she would be alright, they will make you look just as you always looked, the doctor said they will do this when you are healed from the burns. Is that what he said? Yes—turning to her mother—Isnt that so momma? The old woman nodded, Yes, it is so. See, it is true, he said you will be alright. And I am not ugly? No, my little sweetheart. You are my pretty one. Maria continued to hold her mothers hands and blink away tears, and her mother continued to soothe, comfort and reassure her, relaxing more and more herself as she told Maria, over and over, that she was alright, the doctor said they will fix everything….

  in time a nurse came in and gave Maria an injection and soon her eyes were closing, mostly quiet, though mumbling from time to time, an occasional shudder going through her body as unused tears and fear worked themselves free; and Isabella and her mother continued to sit, touching Maria and praying, the shock continuing to wear off as they continued to reassure each other that their little girl was fine and would soon be home with them, just like they had seen in that television story when someone threw something in a womans face and she looked just as pretty as ever.

  Moishe examined Bobbys face very carefully and thoroughly, then expertly took the butterfly bandage off the smaller cut. He gently touched the area around the cut….So—pursing his lips slightly—is looking very good, should heal without a scar…well, maybe a little one to make you look mysterious.

  Bobby laughed, Mysterious? Mush, you really be somethin else.

  Moishe laughed, totally absorbed by the smile on Bobbys face and the sound of laughter in his voice, Well, maybe its being a dueling scar…very important.

  Dueling scar, now what the fuck you be talkin about?

  Moishe replied with another burst of laugher and shook his head, Forget, forget. Something from old country.

  Bobby shook his head at Moishe, smiling. Moishe stopped laughing and took a deep breath. So…now the big one. Moishe worked a corner of the bandage loose, then started slowly peeling the tape off. He knew it would be easier to just pull it off, but he wanted to be certain he didnt do any damage. When he finished he cleaned up both areas, and rubbed them with salve, then looked at Bobby and smiled, So…couldnt be better if I knew what I was doing—and he laughed with mirth and a great sense of relief and gratitude that the cuts had healed, that his simple ministrations were effective and Bobby did not get any serious infections because Moishe did not know what he would have done if he had because he knew Bobby would not go to a hospital and he would have been powerless to help him and now all the tension that had built up over these days, 7, 8, however many it was, suddenly poured from him with laughter and his legs actually felt weak with relief, but it was okay because the cuts were healing fine, just fine, and the salve would help them continue to heal and Bobby wouldnt have a scar on his cheek, maybe only a thin, small line like he said and he felt like he should sing or dance or do something so he raised his right hand and said, Right on already, and held out his hand and he and Bobby gave each other five and Bobby shook his head and once again laughed so hard tears rolled from his eyes, Damn if you aint the craziest muthafucka I ever see—shaking his head—Damn…and the laughter continued until Bobby had to stop because his head was hurting, so Moishe forced himself to stop and they went to the kitchen.

  Moishe finally forced himself to silence while they ate the ice cream, and when they finished Bobby got up to look in the mirror. He examined his face as carefully as possible, Moishe watching over Bobbys shoulder, his expression becoming more and more filled with amazement, Damn Mush, you be a regular croaker. That be a hell of a job you be doin. Guess it be cool to go see the moms an Maria. Course I aint seen it before, but I sure be knowin what it feel like. Look like it being stayin fixed too….damn, you sure be one righteous dude Mush.

  Moishes smile was like a 250 watt bulb, Ya….Dr. Werner Schultz.

  Bobby turned and looked at him, Who he?

  Moishe tapped himself on the chest, Me…my name is Werner Schultz.

  Then what the fuck all this Mushie shit be about?

  Moishe took a deep breath and suddenly the beaming smile was replaced with a sense of nostalgia and grief, Its like what you call nickname…ahh…honorary title.

  Werner Schultz. Sheeit, sure dont see no Mushie in that.

  Moishe smiled gently and was quiet for a moment…Youre wanting to rest?

  Naa, I doan think so Mush.

  They sat around the table holding a large puzzle about half put together, Bobby almost instantly grabbing a piece and attaching it to another, See that Mush, key piece, even you be able to finish it now—and Bobby chuckled continuing to look at the pieces for a moment, then looked at Moishe, a simple expression of deep respect on his face, So howd you get Mushie??? with the tattoo?

  Moishe blinked inspite of himself and stared at Bobby for a moment, Ya…ya—nodding his head—The tattoo…How you know?

  O, I be digginya Mush—shrug
ging—I see how you be sometime and how you be lookin. No big thing.

  Moishe smiled with delight, inwardly amazed at how bright Bobby was, or as he would say, hip.

  You say sometime you be tellin me about that constration camp thing—a gentle smile on his face as he once again shrugged—seem like this be a good time. Whach you think????

  Moishe looked up at the ceiling for a moment wondering if he had the courage to relive it, to reach back to the agony it would resurrect, but he had already given this possibility as much thought as he could and now it was right in front of him and no reason came to mind to deny telling Bobby the story, it seeming almost natural that it be told to him, now, and that it would be alright, that somehow, for some reason it would be safe. Yet he continued to try and find a reason, any reason, good or otherwise, acceptable or otherwise, but nothing came to mind and the only thing he could see, even as he looked up to the ceiling, closing his eyes from time to time, was Bobbys smiling face and the gentleness and belief in his eyes, the simple honesty behind that smile. Eventually he breathed deeply, exhaled slowly and loudly, and looked at Bobby, So…we go to the living room.

  Maria felt crushed by the sudden quiet. Mommy and grandmother had gone, the dinner trays had been collected, the shifts had changed, and the sudden lack of activity brought a silence that crushed the cells in Marias body and she seemed to disappear into the bed, just the merest and faintest outline, felt more than seen under the sheet. The silence and pressure it brought seemed to rage at Maria, demanding to know why she was like dirt, demanding to know what she had done, the questions being twisted through her mind as if they would scoop out the entire contents of her skull and there would remain just bone, not a hint of flesh or brain or blood but only a thin layer of bone that was rapidly turning black from the inside out and soon whatever was left of Maria would be black, and if she looked in the mirror, and still had eyes to see, she would see only blackness inside her skull and her entire body. The darkness outside the window seemed to increase with every breath she took, seemed to be oozing through the window and down the wall and across the floor, disappearing under her bed, but she knew it was crawling up her bed and the blackness would consume her from the outside as well as the inside, (the woman in the bed next to her blinked her eyes and frowned wondering if Maria was really in the bed, her shape being so vague, almost as if the mattress was enveloping her, and she stared for a few moments before clearly seeing Marias bandages and knowing she was there, then went back to sleep) and Maria stared at the lines in the ceiling as they moved and floated and spread and overlapped and seemed to disappear into each other and she felt her arms trembling as she clutched the covers watching the darkness descend upon the room and her, trying to will the light from the hall to push back the darkness as long as possible because she knew with the darkness would come the terrible awful pain on her face and from some terrible place inside her would come that scary voice telling her how bad she is and no matter what she said to herself the voice would convince her she was bad, bad because she must be bad to be so ugly, to have such a terrible thing happen to her, things like this just dont happen to nice people…decent people…and she didnt know why god didnt help her or the baby jesus let her know what she did so she could confess and do an act of contrition but the darkness would, in time, become heavy, so terribly heavy she wouldnt be able to breathe and she would feel it crush her and she would really know, really and truly know she was bad and mommy wouldnt be there to help her and she would be all alone, just hanging in the darkness waiting to be thrown into an even darker hole but she wouldnt know when it was going to happen, it would just happen and she clutched the covers tighter and tighter until the pain in her muscles forced her to relax, at least a little, and she knew if she could just be good enough she would be alright, that the baby jesus and Mary would save her but she didnt know how to be good enough and now the bed under her back was starting to press on her spine and the many little lumps and bumps that came with the night started jamming themselves into her back and her throat rattled with moans of pain but her mouth remained clamped shut, teeth and jaw clenched to cracking, but maybe the nurse would be in soon and put that medicine in her arm and she would sleep or maybe she should push the bell and ask but she couldnt unclench her fists, could not let go of the covers, could not move a finger no less all of her arm to reach out to the button but maybe she wasnt supposed to push the button, maybe she is being punished for pushing her baby brother down that time and he cut his lip a little and cried and cried and mommy got all upset and started yelling but she didnt mean to hurt him, not really hurt him, she only wanted to get her crayon back so she could finish coloring in her book and she was really sorry she scared him so much and made his mouth bleed like that but Im sorry, dear baby jesus Im sorry, I promise I/ll never do that again, honest, I promise, I know I did that to the cat, I know he screeched when I pulled his tail and Im sorry Im such a bad girl O please forgive me, please dont send me to hell I dont want to burn O baby jesus wheres my mommy O I know its too late for mommy that a whole black night has to go but I dont want to burn, please, please dont send me to be burned…but Im really sorry, honest to god, cross my heart and hope to the sorry…but I/ll be good really I will, I/ll be good…yes, yes, I/ll go to confession and say hail marys every night and I/ll be good—her face getting warmer and hotter, feeling as if someone was pouring hot oil over it, the fumes from her burning flesh singeing her nose and still the nurse didnt come and she thought again of moving her hand to ring the bell but it wouldnt move, feeling nailed to the bed and no matter how hard she thought she couldnt unpin it or ask the woman in the next bed to ring her bell or even cry out loud, all she could do was allow herself to be swallowed up by the darkness and allow it to squeeze her and squeeze her until all her bones felt like they would splinter and snap and her face got hotter and now all of her body was getting hotter and her crying grew louder and louder yet no sound came out of her mouth, her tears simply screaming in her head and seeming to fuel the fires that burned her face and the rest of her body and she promised to never do it with Bobby anymore but still the flames continued to consume her and it felt like all her body was trembling with tears and moans and she was so hot she felt like she was over a fire and her skin would burst open like a potato and still no sound would come from her lips and suddenly she started breathing again and got dizzy with the first rush of air yet still the nurse hadnt come in the room and her face and body were being consumed by the flames, burned to a painful pile of dirt and her breath was cut off and she could no longer plead or beg for mercy and her eyes were staring as wide as they could, seeing the edge of the bandage outlining the darkness of the room and as if from a far-away place she heard her voice saying she didnt know why she was so bad but she would be good, she honest to god would be a good girl and she swore on her heart that for ever and ever she would be a good girl and she felt the hint of a cool breeze on her face and felt her body being elevated and seeming to float above the bed as she slowly slid down the side and stood for a moment against the bed, her body still stiff, but now she knew how to cool it, how to get away from the flames that tormented her and she walked without sound across the room, not seeing, moving stiffly but easily, touching nothing, knocking into nothing, eyes closing for long moments at a time, until she stopped and stood for a moment, just a moment, by the open window, pushing it up as far as it would go, almost crying with relief as she felt the cool air penetrate the bandages, cooling her face and all her body almost instantly, the flames gone, totally gone as was the smell of her burning flesh and all she could feel was the cool, refreshing air and the smell of trees and flowers and she stood for a moment, one little breath of time, then sat on the sill and reached out and bathed her arms and face in the cool, flowing air…reaching deeper and deeper into the soft, cool wondrous air, leaning over the sill waving her arms, feeling an almost forgotten happiness flowing through mind and body, feeling like a little girl twirling around in a light summer
shower, feeling like all the hugs and kisses in the world, reaching further and further into the comfort of the air that made her feel so alive, her body slowly rolling over the edge….