Authors: Jack Womack
"Look at these little red things," said Elvis.
"They've clowned you," I started to say to E; paused as I
grasped the degree of his own disconcertion. "It's me." As
he wordlessly mouthed, attempting to speak, I readied to
hear anything he might call me, thinking nothing much
could hurt, issuing from such a figure; thinking that at this
point, nothing much from anyone could hurt. "You've cattongued. Talk."
"You're a-"
"I am. What of it?"
E sidled closer to me, edging over as if ready to run had
there been anywhere to run. Holding out his hands, he drew
them back as quickly, seeming to fear that my touch might
tar him. The faceted glass sewn into his suit sparkled so as
to leave my eyes afterimaged. For a moment more we stood
apart, looking at one another; I thrust out my lower lip, not
to seduce but to threaten. That did it; stepping forward, his
pants rustling like a taffeta slip, he embraced me. His belt
buckle pinched as it dug against my stomach.
"They told me you were sick," he said. "I was afraid you
were gonna die on me."
"Not yet," I said.
His face crumpled, as if someone thoughtlessly had wadded it to toss away; before he could rein in his tears he made
faint groans that sounded nothing other than words freed
from the oppression of meaning. "You all're worse'n Dero,"
he said. "What the hell're you people doin' to me?"
"E. . ." I pried myself from his clutch, grasping his shoulders as he swayed, hoping to keep him upright. "How long
have you been in here?"
"Last night," he said. "How'm I supposed t'know what's
straight around here? I can't even tell what y' are-"
"I got wired the wrong way," said Elvis.
"My look so offends?" I asked. "I'm Isabel, all the same.
This is as I am."
"I can't take this. I can't. How'm I supposed t'believe
anything you say?"
"I'm showing you truth."
"Yeah, today. What about tomorrow? Or the day after
that? Then what'll y'be? What'll y'have me doin' then?"
"I'll be what I am," I said. "I don't know what you'll be
doing. I'm not the juggler here."
"This is really what you are?" he asked, stepping back,
drying his face with the back of his hand, taking care not to
scratch himself with the bracelets with which he was wristed.
"I mean-"
"It bothers you that I'm black?" I asked.
"No wonder y' didn't like me sayin' nigger," he said, his
perfect obliviousness seeming to return to him as he calmed.
"Why'd you make yourself up like you was white?"
"If I'd shown as I am, what would have happened to me
in your world?" I asked. "What would you have done, over
there?"
He lowered his head; for an instant I thought he prepped
to withdraw it inside his collar, and so hideaway from me.
"I'm not like the rest of 'em," he said. "It wasn't right, what
they did. It wasn't right."
"Nor is this," I said. "What's thought, then?"
"About you? Like this?" I nodded. "You're still you, aren't
you?"
"I think so."
"That's good enough for me, then. You gotta stay with
me, Isabel. I don't know what's up or down around here."
"Didn't know you was going to see a crazy man," said
Elvis, "did you? Well well well well-"
"They've been playing this nightlong?" I asked. E
grimaced.
"Never stops," E said. "He musta been crazy by the time
they got through with him. He musta been."
"Leverett," I called out, turning and shouting behind me,
marveling that he'd so restrained himself from interrupting
us. E cringed, and moved some meters away to one of the
roomcorners as the door slid open and Leverett walked in.
"Mute it," I said. "Mute it or we're not talking." He reentered the hall and pressed the appropriate switch; Elvis's
voice stilled, and only the AC's sound dulled the silence.
"Why's he suited so?" I asked. "You promised-"
"They'll have him no other way in England, the London
office tells," Leverett said. "There's no roundabouting it.
That's what we told him yesterday, but there was no listening-"
"Would you wear it?" I asked.
"He has to," Leverett said. "It's the image, Isabel, it has
to be matched. It's a shame but there you are."
"Why can't they have me as I am?" E said, huddling
against the walls. Eyeing his suit's decolletage I sighted more
clearly his unhaired chest; his musculature ws that of a boy's,
and I supposed reconstruction had not ensued below the
neck save to effect repairs.
"Elvis," Leverett said, placing one hand on my shoulder,
gesturing toward me with his other as if to enumerate my
sales points. "Why couldn't you have Isabel as she is?"
"I can have her like that-" E started to say.
"Nobody can have me," I said, jerking away from Leverett's touch, distancing myself from them both.
"The principle holds," Leverett said. "Close in, Elvis.
Over here. Come here." E looked at me; saying nothing, I
motioned that he should approach, and so settle Leverett
before he began offering biscuits. "That's good, Elvis. Now
we're awared that the outfit's not as you'd wish-"
"I like clothes much as the next guy but not this shit," E
said. "Excuse me, Isabel. You told me flat out I wasn't gonna
have t'wear a sissy suit. This's 'bout as sorry as it comes."
"You replayed that timeover, Leverett," I said. "There's
much you've told us both that doesn't hold."
"That's unfair, Isabel-"
"May be, but she's right," said E. "You told me I don't
haveta wear one of these suits and I'm not goin' to."
"Not until we go to London," said Leverett. "You've no
firsthand experience with your followers. You don't understand what they expect."
"They better start gettin' an idea of what I expect, then."
My presence, in whatever shade I showed, seemed to recharge E, enabling him to confront Leverett as he'd apparently not been able to while I was gone. It didn't comfort me
to see this transpire; that E found in me the spine he lacked,
and the resulting support he could take from it, only assured
I'd have another remoraed onto me whenever I tried to
move.
"I've enough of an idea," Leverett said. "Contract with
me, then. One time, that's all that's needed, on opening day.
Wear it one time and no more."
"I'll be in public," E said. "People'll see me-"
"That's the point. Is anything still misunderstood? You're
mountaining this molehill more than it needs."
"One time?" I asked, replaying his words as if by so doing
I might record them. Leverett nodded. "E, if that's truth,
then I'd think it could stand."
"You don't have to wear it, either-"
"It's dealable," I said, looking over the suit's trim, gold
piping delineating collaredge and cuffs. "If it's what that
audience desires they'll know no embarrassment. You'll
send them out smiling." My concluding statement was, I
think, a safe assumption.
"Let me sleep on it," E said. "Can I leave here now? I
wanta put on something else if I can go."
"You're always unseen in transit," Leverett said. "Can't
you-
"I can't," E said. "I see me. That's one too many."
"Very well," said Leverett. "Your apartment clothes are in
the office across the hall. Change there."
"Good-"
"All present are somewhat overtensed, I think. There's
something I'd like to show you in the morning. You consider
what I've said and we'll further discuss at morningside. AO?"
"You already know what I think," said E. "And I got a say
in all this. Isabel told me that."
"Did she?" said Leverett, raising his head as he looked at
me. "You have a say, true. We'll talk again tomorrow. Rest
this afternoon. Now that Isabel's back with us we can return
to our original program."
He nodded to us both and exited. E waited until we heard
his footsteps' echo fade before reconversing. "I didn't know
what to do when you were gone," he said. "See how quick he
gave in while you were here?"
"He's not giving," I said. "He'll contrary, I believe."
"Maybe," said E. "I'm tired of fussin'. I just wanta get back
to the hotel."
"You were here all night?" I asked.
"From about eight o'clock on. Didn't tell me what I was
gonna be tryin' on till they put it on me. I guess I flipped.
They shut me up in here and then after a couple hours, they
turned on the phonograph. Didn't sleep a wink last night.
Man, Isabel, that was rough."
"E, even when you have your say there's only so much that
can be said," I told him. "Bend with the wind when you can,
you'll be bettered for it after-"
"Maybe so," E said. "You goin' back to the hotel with
me?"
"No," I said. "It essentials I talk to my husband. We've
problems to straighten. I'll meet you in the morning before
we see Leverett, if possible."
"What problems you all got?" he asked. "He must lose his
temper a lot."
"Not really."
"He don't beat you, does he? Seems like the kind who
would."
"We beat each other," I said. "Tomorrow, E. Get sleep,
dream true."
For some minutes after I gave him his reinstatement paper
John said nothing; with eyes so lifeless as a doll's he stared
at it as if wishing to divine tomorrow's events from a white,
wordless sheet. A scratching sound in our room's walls tickled my ears as we sat on our bed; I fantasized the mice racing
through their tunnels, suddenly realizing their lost companion's absence. "What's thought?" I asked, trying to read his
moodless face.
"Remember Harvey?" he asked, leaning over and kissing
my cheek. "He was a midtown guard-"
"All showed as one after so long, John," I said, grateful
that I was unable to contain my emotions so well as he
contained his.
"He thirdrailed himself yesterday on the Pelham line," my
husband said. "That's seventeen since we returned. There'll
be no Security to oversee, soon enough."
"You'll be positioned as before," I said. "With greater
pay. „
"Doing less," he said. "Enabling others to go preretirement. How'd they ever notion regooding? It's unjustifiable,
Iz, we're being hung and dried. Our training condemns us,
and they had us trained. What's it accomplish-?"
"What they desire, I suppose," I said. `Judy claims Leverett demanded that the guards be treated. He infers that she
did."
"Who lies?"
"Both, mayhap," I said. `Judy's no longer trusting me,
however much she denies. When I confront her, she sidesteps. And as for Leverett ..." No sooner had I replayed his
name than I regretted it; mentioning him shot into John's mind remembrances of our trip, might-have-been thoughts
of beginning and end; and to speak of Leverett was to speak
of E. My husband's face sagged as hate galvanized his stare.
"Don't freeze me, John. Reopen."
"Bedaway," he said, reclining, holding his knee as he
lowered.
"I'll not wallshout, John. Look at me." Propping himself
with his elbows, he fullfaced my way as I turned to confront.
"Leverett's my overseer. He's been yours, as well. Whatever
his doings, he has to be named-"
"Leverett's ruined us," he said. "His project-"
"We've ruined us," I said. "You negate the good that's
come from this."
"No good's been brought. None. Worse than none-"
"What's meant?" I asked; he stilled, and looked away from
me. "Do you mean our baby? That's worse than none? Is it?"
"Iz, please-"
"Our baby. Our baby, John. Say it." He tried to stand up;
I pushed him back down onto the bed and leaned across
him, pounding his chest with my fist until my hand hurt. My
husband evidenced neither alarm nor surprise, but only lay
there dispassioned while I iterated what I knew to be truth.
"Ours, not his. Ours. Ours."
"The test essentials," John said. "Why won't you take it?"
"The baby'd suffer the effects, as told-"
"I'm suffering now-"
"Believe me!" I screamed, clasping my hands and slamming them down, beating as if to concave his underlay. He
shifted onto his side, escaping my blows; clamped his arms
around himself, and tried to catch his breath. "Won't you
believe me?"
"It's understandable-"
"I told you he didn't assault me, I told you timeover. If you
don't believe me, can't you even show me disrespect? Can't
you even call me a liar-?"
"It must have terrified, Iz," John said. "I understand-"
"You don't understand," I said, falling away from him,
collapsing onto my side of the bed as if I'd been deflated.
"He attempted, I defended. Am I helpless, John? Am I?" My
husband shook his head. "He tries a kiss, I toss him off and
you mindspin into madness-"
"He . . . " John began to say; started running fingers across
his chest from shoulder to waist, as if suddenly cognizant
that I'd hurt him. "I read his feeling, early on. I jealoused
when it seemed-"
"You've been jealousing since, sans reason-"
"It isn't logical, Iz," he said. "They clipped me. If I father,
I father death." The lowvoiced, melodramatic tone of his
concluding statement made me suspect it was a quote from
Jake's book. "But there's no shame, Iz, not with me. I don't
want your denials-"
I sighed, staring at the ceiling as if an escape route might
yawn in its whiteness; accepted that his mind had concreted,
and there'd be no chipping away with truth. "It's our baby,
John. Unquestioned."
"It can't be."
"Unquestioned," I said. `John, I love you-"
"Mutual," he said, sitting up, eyeing me as he had whenever our emotions crossed; as if I were Godness and he, a
flylike worshiper.
"But I can't live with you anymore, not like this."
John seemed not to have heard me at first, or at least
evidenced no sign of understanding; I wished I could run off
and hide away from all of them, even run back into that
other world. Our world grew all the crueler, the more it
regooded; by that evening, I felt regooded unto death.