The Country of Ice Cream Star (36 page)

‘What apostles? Ain’t be mine?’

‘Nay, sure. The old apostles. Is like a test, if you be bone Maria. I learn this, when I want to be Maria, in time before.’

Want to say, I ain’t be bone Maria. All is madness. But I look on her blooden hand again and sigh my breath. ‘They ask me questions. So?’

‘Ya, I tell how you must answer.’

‘Ain’t going to answer truth?’ I grimace, feel tired in my mouth.

‘Nay, be matters … complicate.’

‘Sure, I be a Sengle. Lying ain’t no work to me.’

‘Be bone.’ She smile encouraging. ‘Ya, most major that they ask, is war. How you feel to wars.’

‘You got some war?’

She wave a hand, like ridding this needless question. ‘What you saying – war be evil, but is sometimes needful. Evil, but is sometimes needful.’

I look at the browndress tens. They writing something on some cards. ‘Ain’t an answer, ya?’

‘Right, you seeing. Cannot answer. They going to try and make you answer. All you say: War be evil, but is sometimes needful.’

I sigh. ‘War, be evil work. But is sometimes needful.’

‘Bone.’ She breathe out rough. ‘Second matter. Be anything you ain’t comprehend, say: Must discuss this with the church. Ain’t answer nothing, say the church discuss this.’

‘Must discuss this with the church.’

‘Next matter. They marrying here in twos. Ain’t get no Christing flocks of wives. One wife, one male. Like ducks. You see this?’

‘Marry like ducks. Two children only.’

‘Keep this clear. And tell them Sengles doing so.’

‘Foo, Sengles do no marrying.’

‘Ice, told you. Cannot–’

‘Bone, we marry honest. Be no fickle people, Sengles.’ Here, I laugh in nerves, but Soledad look harsh severe.

‘Also, preventing enfants be an evil.’

‘So sex be always bone?’

‘Nay, shee.’ She startle fresh at this. ‘Be only bone when children marry. Evil if they ain’t. Learn this well.’

‘But when they marry, must do sex?’

‘Ain’t this.’ She smile unhappy. ‘There be a science for preventing enfants. Science they got. Is evil.’

‘How this science work?’

She make a ridding gesture. ‘Only must know, is always evil.’

Ain’t comprehend for nothing, but I nod. Look skitty at the window doors. The blackdress children multiply there. Now it be a flickering wall of black behind the glass. ‘How it be, if I ain’t question well? Can leave?’

‘You question well. Ain’t fearing this.’

‘Nay, what will be? You answer.’

‘Ice, ain’t stand your proof, this meaning you be …’ She pause, her scar face work in thought. ‘Is like taboo. You be a false Maria. Mean, you evil.’

‘So I be evil. Got good company in this.’

‘Nay, then you die.’ She smile into her scars. ‘When your proof become, you die.’

I feel tired anger coming through my fear. ‘I got no wants to be Maria, simper. Tell them now.’

‘Nay.’ She hold her hand up anxy. ‘You die the same for this.’

‘For what? Damn, ain’t no sense.’

‘Ice, you found a Jesus. Be Maria, or be false Maria. Ain’t no other thing.’

‘So I be false. You telling them.’

‘Nay, false Maria need to die. Been said!’

‘Is normal,’ I say in disgust. ‘You be some ugly goods, this people. Why you brought us here? Ain’t need to put me in this murder.’

She take her breath. ‘Ain’t going to be. You heed me, all be bone.’

‘I heeding. Got no choice, is normal. Pasha right in all.’

My mind feel skiddy. Try to think, what answers she been given.
I wind my finger in my jeans thread, thinking back until is plain. Then I say, ‘Go on, I heed.’

‘These be your major questions. Comprehend?’

‘Be decision, whether I comprehend. Must discuss this with the church. All I know, we must get enfants, no preventing this. And must marry a duck, no other way.’

‘Ain’t–’

‘I know. Was joke.’

‘Bone. Be other matter.’ Her eyes skew nervy to the glassen doors. ‘Pasha.’

I swear underbreath. ‘Here it be. Pasha right. Goddamn.’

She grit her jaw, can see she thinking desperate. ‘Get your questioning, they going to ask you on him. Truth, can keep him.’

‘Keep?’

‘Can keep him by. But this disapprove. Only one Maria kept her Jesus, and was every trouble. Most times … is done like in the Christing story. Jesus die.’

My heart narrow harsh. ‘My Pasha do no trouble. Give him cigarettes, he easy.’

‘Nay, be problems. Maria and Jesus both is god.’

I want to scoff, how any child believe that I be god. That any snot-nose child be god. But I only say, ‘We god together. Be no problems.’

Unhappy growing in her face, most like she going to cry. ‘They ain’t approve this. Can fail your proof for this alone. Then Pasha kilt with you. Ain’t be no help.’

‘But it been done before?’

‘Ice Cream. Be problems without this.’

‘I asking, be some chance?’

‘Ya.’ She pinch her mouth. ‘They desperate well, or you ain’t been in question.’

‘Desperate, right. Relief to know, they ain’t be imbeciles entire.’

‘Nay, ain’t imbeciles none.’ She look grim, like this be mally news.

A minute, we sit in angry quiet. I watch upon the browndress
tens. They working fretful, like they fear us. Duck their heads and whispern. In this, it notice, these be girlish children, shaven females. Surprise misgive in me, and I scarce be listening when Soledad speak.

‘Ice Cream. Pasha be a sleeper.’ Her voice come slow precaire.

I frown to her. Feel something queery in this, like the shaven girls. ‘Sleeper, shee. He be a moron roo.’

‘You friending with him, sure I know. But sleepers, they ain’t be like us.’

‘What difference this will make? You ain’t like me, neither. Will say, this sleeper try to save yourself this morning. This same day.’

‘Nay, they sleepers all be slavers. In Time Before, they slavers. Every history. Ain’t like us.’

I say loud, ‘And how they also Jesus, wonder this.’

‘Be more in this than you can know! You think before …’ She swallow back her noise and say low, ‘Think.’

‘Nay,’ I say cold. ‘You think how this sleeper gone to save you. This morning, gone and risk himself.’

‘Ain’t listening right.’

‘Yo heed. They kill my Sengles also? Kill all Massa children, for some moron superstition?’

‘Nay,’ she say in sobben voice. ‘But, Ice, it–’

‘All I need to hear. We done.’

‘Ice, ain’t for myself. Is needful.’ Then she flinch, ware to the window doors. ‘You think. I got to leave you now. Goddamn, was other matters.’ She skit to her feet. Give me one final seeking look, and smile her pinchen way. Then she go to the window doors. Open them with careful softness, and she slip away.

I sit back weak. Be longing for my good Kalash, my Pasha. Can wish I sleeping better yesternight. Feel white inside my head. Try thinking of these answers, but now Soledad be gone, they seem insanities no child believe.

Then a browndress ten come toward. Got jutting ears, show out peculiar with her shaven head. She look skitty to myself, then start
around the table. Set cards down, one to each seat. Check at a paper as she go. I stand up jittery and go behind. Cards going so:
Juan de Quinta, Felipe de Metropolitano, Simón Zelote de Loisaida
. Come to one that say
Pedro de Inúd
, and I get a kindling notion. First part be an apostle’s name, can guess. The other be their burrow. Girl finish with the cards and dabbit by, spy curiose at me.

‘Sister,’ I say, ‘you need that paper?’

She startle like it been the table self that spoken words. A moment, I think she cannot comprehend. Talk Panish like the rest.

But she lower eyes and muttern, ‘No.’

‘Be gratty, I can have it.’

She look at it doubting. ‘You want this?’

‘Got these names, I guess? Is names?’

She nod slow. In this, it notice, her shaven head got drawings on. Is like the drawings on the rifle children’s hands. Blue particular on her head, shape like spiken flowers. Even her jutting ears got petty lines.

She bolden herself and reach the paper to me, smiling bashful. Like I expect, it got the table drawn, with each name set in place. At table’s head, be writ,
Maria Postulante
.

The ten say whispern, ‘You go for Maria?’

I take unliking breath. ‘Ya, guess I do.’

She smile again, scratch at her shiny head. Look at the other ten with priding eyes. Other ten look back, is jalousie in her pet face. This a tallish child, is catten prettieuse, even in baldness.

I wave the paper, say, ‘My tens, you knowing how these names pronounce?’

Eary Ten get mazing smile. ‘You don’t know the apostles’ names?’

‘She just came here,’ Catten Ten say bossy. ‘Why she going to know?’

Eary Ten pert up her eyes. Begin to sing a melody. The other join with laughing face. A moment pass before I comprehend, this be a memory song. Give all apostles’ names in easy quickness. Then I watch the paper, heeding, try to match these names and words.
Get them to start again–again, until their rivaling be, how quick they sing. Their birden voices confuse together, break in giggling.

Then sudden, they both startle. Hush and ware the window doors. Rifle children moving there, be voices risen loud. Tens turn jumpy, run toward a farther door of simple wood. They fluster out, without no by-salue. The door shut hard.

Cannot react nor think, before the window doors come wide. I skit into my chair and shove the paper to my knees.

37

MY QUESTIONING FOR MARIA

A black parade of redwaist children come in, one and one. They looking at me various – smiling, boring, curiose – but all this brew into my nerves. Be mostly boys of bigger size. Is only one a female, and she loafen fat, grown in richesse. Most wear black dresses, but be one in brownish rifle garb. Yo, the last is wearing jeans and button shirt like any person. This jeans child be gazen bell, is Sengle tarry with long eyes.

I check the paper, haste to find their names as they take chairs. Across from me, at table’s end, be Pedro de Inúd – child Soledad been speaking to before. Sixteenish boy beside him smiling puppyish, like he cheer my courage. His blackdress got some stains along its front, like he been eating soup. Name, Juan de Quinta.

Apostle speaking first be handsome slim, got beard is shapen ornamental. Ain’t Panish that he talk but sleeper English, knot in definitions. Can guess is greeting speeches, but these words go jumbling quick. I check the paper for his name: Felipe de Metropolitano. Ya, he finish on an easy saying: ‘And please, be honest with us. It’s really best, for your own sake.’

I narrow at this bearden boy, can smell some threat in this. But I only say, ‘Be thanks, Felipe. Sure, I answer truth.’

This bring some petty consternation. First I wondern, if I said his name correct. Tens is chancy people, cannot know what jokes
they play. But then it comprehend, they ain’t know I got their names writ. Think to explain, but then they start their questions.

This work be suffering beyond mosquitoes. Ain’t never felt no personal shyness, but here it inkle how a shy child feel. Times, I speak too long, and feel they boring while I stumble words. Then is times, I saying only ‘Yes’, and they look cheaten. They ask in sleeper English, but talk Panish between themself. Yo, once, all questioning stop, while two apostles argue Panish furiose, but I ain’t guess its reason. Soon sweat coursing down my sides in tickle bothers. Throat be dry and sore, and every smile feel false and strange.

Begin to know, is friends and enemies in this apostle twelve. Pedro de Inúd ask questions that is sneaking helps. Yo, can guess that Soledad told him news of me before. He ask if I be leader in my people; can say yes to this. Then he ask how many children living in the Massa woods. Ain’t mention Sengles particular, so it come out like I lead four hundred children, powerful grown. He talk clear and slow, ya every question hinting to its answer. ‘I hope your people are Christians?’

‘We believe religion must be the basis of the law. Would you agree?’ Even when I understand no word, can know these answers yes.

Worst enemy be crafty-beard Felipe. Look friendly in his smile, but every question be a trap. Child smart as twenty heads; my victories all be steps to new defeat. Be like fighting Mamadou in war. Yo, any word I speak, Felipe saying he ain’t understand. Say this kindly, like he sorry for my stupid mouth. Result be, I must answer simple words, sound like an imbecile two.

Some apostles never speak. They only stare my face and pick their cuffs in boring fidget. Strangest be the child in rifle clothing, name Simón Zelote. His eyes fix to nothing, lost to any world around. Once, I glance on him and see, he sob his breath. Wipe tears. Others ignoring this, like it be normal expectations. And soon his grief seem natural to myself. Feel like it be his task to weep the truth of this discussion, while we others speak our courtesy lies.

Be friendly Pedro who ask on war. Feel foolish when I say this
‘evil, but is sometimes needful’ speech. But can see how Pedro look relief. Then Felipe push for honest answers, and be entertainment, the dozen ways I say this nothing. Soon be gobblegook: ‘War be awfulness, but when the circumstances needful, going to need this awfulness, but …’ Felipe self look dull to this. He lose his fight in boredom.

His be the questions on preventing enfants. He give me any tricky cases: if a girl been rapen; if she rapen by her brother; if she rapen, and is dying sick. I cannot guess, how they prevent this enfant, when the rape be done. But I ain’t pause to wonder. I only say, is always evil, like my Soledad insist. Yo, I be strict on duckish marriage, feel a Driver lawfulness in disapproving all exceptions. Almost become a liking game, to slip Felipe’s traps. See how he smile and smile, and suffer his heart malicieuse.

Be other questions, if I using pharmacies, what sex I done. I guess these answers well, can know all Christings will be pudy miseries. Is nay and nay, I never nothing, spent my life with hands in pockets. Ya, times, I ask them definitions, and they begin to rival, explaining what some pharmacy be. Then is plain to see that they all try these evil pharmacies. Yo in this, the prettieuse jeans child – Santiago be his name – give me a cigarette, is gratty took.