The Almanac of the Dead: A Novel (99 page)

Some things it was better not to know. Beaufrey looked at Serlo. Didn’t Serlo agree? Look at these 9mm pistols. David might enjoy the Glock. With the unrest and guerilla activity so widespread, no Caucasian should be without a handgun on his person.

“Don’t change the subject,” David said. He picked up the gun, and Beaufrey handed him the empty clip. In another minute Beaufrey would bring out the cocaine as he usually did after they had quarreled. Beaufrey’s eyes were expressionless; his lips did not move. Serlo kept wiping the barrel of a .45 automatic; he didn’t look up. “I want to know all of it—everything.” Beaufrey and Serlo exchanged brief glances. “Everything?” Beaufrey repeated, smiling cruelly. “You want to know
everything?”
The long dining table was covered with packing debris, shipping boxes, and fifteen or twenty revolvers and automatic pistols. The giant grandfather clock ticked loudly down the hall.

“It was all bad news, I’m afraid.” Beaufrey’s eyes had been gleaming again, and David felt hopeful they would still be lovers. He did not understand Beaufrey: What bad news? “It all required more time than I had anticipated,” Beaufrey continued, watching David’s face closely.

“The galleries in Europe . . . ?” David felt his heart leap.

The room was quiet again, except for the hall clock, and the sound of Serlo slitting open the cardboard packing around the guns. “I said ‘bad news,’ nothing about art.” Both Beaufrey and Serlo watched David closely. David’s mouth hung open stupidly as he began to understand. “The baby,” David said in a flat voice, “you mean the baby.” Beaufrey
nodded; he was wiping shipping grease off the cylinder of a brand-new Colt .357 magnum.

“I really am sorry, David, but with that woman, what could you do?” Beaufrey had never spoken to David so sincerely. David experienced a flood of feelings, a great expansion in his chest from his beating heart. “With a creature like that you expect the offspring to be lost. Isn’t that true, Serlo? You see that here all the time with horses and cattle, don’t you?” Serlo had been cataloging the serial numbers of the new handguns in a huge old ledger bound in brass and leather. Everything that had ever been purchased for the
finca
was described in the ledger. Serlo nodded yes to Beaufrey’s comparison of the woman with a cow, but did not lift his head. He was sick of David’s stupid, pouting mouth and Beaufrey’s reptilian gaze each time the lovers’ eyes locked on one another. Serlo had watched Beaufrey before. Beaufrey became aroused watching the young men break down. When the young men bored Beaufrey, they angered him; and quite unintentionally Beaufrey was compelled to break them down. Serlo wondered what the American would do or say if he was told the truth about the child. David would shit his pants. Or maybe David would be so stupid that even if he was told the truth, he would not believe it. Serlo decided to tell the gringo, “Some are only fit as organ donors. That is the only useful function left for common rabble.” Of course David did not understand Spanish or Serlo’s meaning, except to know it was derogatory.

Beaufrey had looked at Serlo sharply, but Serlo had been refilling the fountain pen and pretended not to see. Serlo didn’t care if David found out; the David game was about played out. Serlo was sick of Beaufrey’s pretending to console David. Beaufrey brought out more cocaine and offered it first to David before he passed it to Serlo.

DAVID HAD BEEN pleased at how sharp Beaufrey’s glance at Serlo had been. The excitement of having so much of Beaufrey’s attention and concern had made even the painful loss of the infant recede naturally into the distance. With Beaufrey in love with him, even
that
loss seemed bearable. David had been surprised at Beaufrey’s sudden change of heart just when David had feared everything might be over between them. He did not want to upset Beaufrey any further. He did not press Beaufrey for details. Beaufrey said only the child had died in Tucson of natural causes. Whores such as Seese produced defective offspring; nature’s way was best; only the fittest survived. David felt strangely relieved now that Beaufrey had confirmed the worst. There was nothing more David could do for the dead child. If he ever saw Seese again, David vowed to kill her.

Beaufrey’s games ended when he wanted them to, and not until then. Serlo refused to be suckered into a shouting match by Beaufrey. They fucked while Serlo rode horseback alone. They rode horseback for hours together while Serlo supervised the ground-breaking for the institute facilities. Serlo had spoken to Beaufrey once, even twice, each day by phone while Beaufrey had been in Bogotá; now they slept under the same roof but did not speak to one another, sometimes for days. Beaufrey was soft, Beaufrey was a slave to urges and desires of the flesh. Beaufrey confided that the secret had greatly increased his sexual desire for David. Beaufrey really got hot because David had never even suspected what had happened to the infant: something terrible. Nothing got Beaufrey hotter than pumping away at an unsuspecting asshole such as David; ignorant of everything.

Time was getting short; unrest was spreading across the Americas; Serlo and Beaufrey had both lost ancestors to the guillotine. Epidemics, accompanied by famine, had triggered unrest. Mass migrations to the North, to the U.S. border, by starving Indians had already begun in Mexico. Serlo and the others with the “hidden agenda” had only a few more years to prepare before the world was lost to chaos. Brown people would inherit the earth like the cockroaches unless Serlo and the others were successful at the institute. Dedicated to the preservation of the purity of noble blood, the facilities would provide genetically superior semen.

Serlo blamed the United States for the crisis in the hemisphere because the U.S. CIA had encouraged government authorities, the worst criminals, to smuggle cocaine for them. Very soon the others had learned the fabulous profits that could be made, and the U.S. CIA had fierce competition in the cocaine trade from mestizos and Indians. Serlo had seen the black men and the brown men with semiautomatic carbines they had bought with the profits of the trade. Serlo had seen a message in the eyes of these people: guns make us equal, white motherfucker.

Enemies of the United States had actually tried to cut off the supply of heroin to the United States near the end of the Vietnam War. During the summer of the disruption of heroin supplies, dozens of U.S. cities had burned night after night. Without cocaine and heroin, the U.S. faced a nightmare as young black and brown people took to the streets to light up white neighborhoods, not crack pipes. Secret U.S. policy was to protect the supply of cocaine. Without cocaine, the U.S. would face riots, looting, even civil war. The downfall of the United States had been those civil rights laws passed after the Korean War.

Serlo seldom joined them horseback riding since Beaufrey had returned from Bogotá. David spotted Serlo approaching rapidly on his black hunter-jumper across a grassy, dry lake-bed; he had not seen Serlo ride a horse so fast before. Beaufrey had reined in his horse when he saw Serlo. David was intrigued because Beaufrey acted genuinely surprised, as if he had not expected to see Serlo. Beaufrey had always denied Serlo was jealous, but David knew better.

The sorrel mare tossed her head and opened her mouth wide to escape the bit. Beaufrey was critical of David’s lack of control of the mare. Whenever Beaufrey felt out of sorts, he liked to criticize David’s “seat,” and the atrocious position of the reins in his hands. This bitching at David was meant to cheer up Serlo. David dug his heels into the mare’s ribs and pulled her around sharply as she leaped into a gallop in a tight, clockwise circle around them. Beaufrey was worried about David’s control; well, let him watch this! Serlo saw David’s horse break away from Beaufrey’s mount, but instead of riding in the direction Beaufrey had gone, Serlo had turned his horse to follow David.

David had turned hard in the saddle to try to see Beaufrey’s reaction, but the little mare seemed to accelerate even as David struggled to rein her into a circle. Then he could see Beaufrey was galloping after Serlo. David felt a big smile on his face. How romantic and dramatic! The thrill of the chase across the grass and through the scrubby trees across dry lakes had overcome David. He could feel the little Thoroughbred did not want to stop; the farther she ran, the faster she ran. The speed whipped tears in his eyes as he fought to pull the mare’s head around; he would let her run in a big circle until she was exhausted. To otherwise stop or control the horse was hopeless. Serlo had kept shouting at David, but the excitement of a chase was too keen to halt. David glanced over his shoulder and saw Beaufrey’s horse stumble and nearly go down. Neither Beaufrey nor Serlo dared race as fast as David had over the grassy plain.

The sorrel mare had gradually slowed as she tired; David pulled her to a stop. Sweat dripped from her neck and legs. David had dismounted and was walking the horse when Serlo rode up. David heard Serlo’s words, but had difficulty making any sense of what Serlo said. David had stopped to allow the mare to rub her sweaty head and ears against David’s shoulder. He looked up at Serlo on the lathered hunter-jumper. What was Serlo’s news that simply could not wait?

But Serlo had said nothing; instead he had handed David an eight-by-ten manila envelope. To see was to believe. David stared at proof sheets of 35mm color negative strips; most of the proof images had been almost too small to see without a magnifying lens, but a cold chill and then sweat had made the hairs on David’s neck stand up. Beaufrey rode up while David was still holding the proof sheets in both hands helplessly. Beaufrey did not answer when David asked him if what Serlo had said was true. David kept his eyes on Beaufrey’s eyes as he deliberately trampled the proof sheets under his boots, then remounted the mare.

David refused to let Serlo or Beaufrey, but especially Serlo, play any more mind-fuck games with him. Serlo had tried all along to drive David away from Beaufrey. David did not doubt that Beaufrey had videotapes and enlarged color photographs of autopsies and organ harvests of Caucasian infants. David simply refused to believe the tiny cadaver in the images was that of his infant son, Monte. That simply was not possible because the cadaver had been considerably larger than his baby.

Beaufrey hated surprises such as the one Serlo had just sprung. Beaufrey had been furious, but he pretended the photographs were only Serlo’s sick joke. Of course the photographs were off the black market; it had been a bad joke. Beaufrey’s lips gradually drew back in a sly smile; he winked at David and shrugged his shoulders. Serlo was Serlo. Only the greatest passions drove men to deeds such as these. Serlo had only pretended cool detachment. Serlo was a man of great passion. But David would not be outdone. The sorrel mare’s coat was still damp from the previous run, and she trembled with anticipation; David held the reins tight and the horse stepped backward nervously. David had not ridden so far onto the
llano
before; off in the distance, a great open plain dropped away from the scrubby trees and ran forever to the horizon. A light breeze swept across the
llano.

David wanted to reassure Beaufrey that he did not believe the lies Serlo had told. Serlo must have lost his mind completely to accuse Beaufrey of something so gruesome. David blamed the stupid institute
for Serlo’s delusions and accusations. Nazi-thinking caused mental illness. David did not care if Serlo heard what he said to Beaufrey. David had never trusted Serlo. Beaufrey should be careful. Serlo considered himself heterosexual; he might turn against his friends and lovers any day. Beaufrey should remember Hitler’s solution for homosexuals.

David guided the little mare into a slow canter, keeping the mare’s head tucked under the arch of her neck. For weeks David had ridden the mare to practice control. He had practiced to please Beaufrey, but also to prove to himself he could control the mare. Sports and games were always about control; control was everything. One person wanted to control the other. Dope or sex, it was all about control, and the slave, the one who served and obeyed. Seese had taught David that; she had asked David to fuck her while he was shooting her up. He had hated her for wanting that, and he had wanted to hurt her, to miss the vein. But his cock had got hard and curved up to his belly just as he got the needle in the vein; warm and white he fed it to her in steady streams and spurts.

The sorrel mare heard the hoofbeats of Serlo’s and Beaufrey’s horses behind and raced faster over the plain until the scrubby trees and yellowing grass were blurred from the mare’s speed. His arms ached from fighting the mare. He hated the fever of the mare’s need to run. He hated Beaufrey’s gibe that the rider must “husband” his horse. As the ranch hands said, the mare suffered from the rapture of the
llano,
the rapture of space and endless horizons.

David had tried. What more could a man do? He rejected that responsibility bullshit. If the horse wanted to run, let it run. The little Thoroughbred had fought to break loose for miles, and David was beginning to tire. If the horse wanted to run, let it run. Serlo and Beaufrey were far behind. The mare would slow as she began to tire.