The Country of Ice Cream Star (49 page)

One day, walking to church, my closest guards explain all reasons known. These be Julio, Metro child who love me with his eyes, and Bean, a chubly English, rude in ways. Pasha walk ahead with different guards of his new friendship. Can hear them noising Panish, while our talk go careful soft.

Bean begin. ‘What I think, they’re afraid to make a lot of guns right now. Do that, and people will think they’re planning to fight the Marines again.’

‘Foo,’ I say. ‘Who want to fight Marines? You only losing twice.’

‘Inúds, that’s all.’ Bean shrug. ‘They never give that up. Half the city already thinks we’re attacking Quantico this spring. Cause – excuse me, santa reina –
you’re
an Inúd Maria. How people see it.’

‘That war, nobody want,’ say Julio. ‘Metros also, we don’t want.’

Bean huff breath. ‘Yeah, really. You’d have a rebellion on your hands. Start off trying to fight Marines, you’d end up fighting the English here.’

‘But ain’t no war like that,’ I say annoying. ‘We fight
for
Marines.’

Bean nod. ‘I’m only saying what people will think. They don’t know nothing about your war. So you go making a lot of guns, there’s going to be craziness. Guaranteed.’

Here guard Lopez straggle back from Pasha’s group of talkers. Can see, he overhearing, now he come to fix our notions. Lopez be Inúd himself, and always loud with townie pride. For this, he be a hatred object to all other guards. He wear a scarf with eagle picture – flag of their Inúd – and this scarf always robbing, and is found again in guardroom toilet.

Now Lopez say confident, ‘Senyora, it is nonsense. There is enough of weapons. Why no one makes more.’

‘Enough?’ say Bean disgusting. ‘What I heard, we’re already short
on bullets. Get a war, we’re finished in a couple of hours. Unless you want to fight with sticks.’

‘What
you
heard.’ Lopez smile superior. ‘And you heard Inúds are afraid from English. But we like to fight your English. It is easy like target practice.’

‘Point is, nobody’s fighting,’ Bean say cold. ‘There isn’t any bullets to do it.’

Here Julio nay his hand to Bean, and tap one ear with meaning look.

Lopez see this, and say huffish, ‘I am not a spy.’

‘Oh, you’re not?’ Bean laugh nasty. ‘Sure, you’re not. That’s funny.’

Lopez scorn his face and say, ‘Senyora, I am sorry. I don’t continue for respect to you.’

Then he haste back to Pasha, stalking like an insult cat.

Bean muttern, ‘Guess Anselm’s paying Lopez money for his gorgeous looks.’

‘Yes,’ say Julio cold. ‘For that, and spy.’

Last worries come from Sengles. From our first days, I asken all my jones to scratch for helpful news. They mostly fail in uselessness. Jonah discover naked dancing shows in Chelesí, and he forget all other life. Villa do her usual filth with every living male. In Loisaida burrow, Hate You lose her shoes to gunpoint robbers. Behind this bad adventure, she be cowardly to outdoors.

But Asha Badmouth and Jermaine go spy like natural rats. They visit Santiago in his palace Residencia; then they go shooting cans with English scratchers in a field of garbage. One night entire, they boozing at a soldier barracks of Inúd, and Asha return with soldiers’ names writ uppen-down her legs. Yo, every place, they asking–sniffing for all gossip known.

Most they hear be tales fantastic. Get fables on myself, how I do sex with Jesus, or with Pedro, or with some mystery child name Tony whose existence be a question. Be worser talk on Pasha, how he got a tail beneath his pants. Roo eating insects at all meals, or
babies – anything but food. Also be whispers, showing that some gossip leak about the cure, although this story always suffern some peculiar change. Strangest version be, that roo meat cure all maladies. Eat Jesus’s body and you live forever. My sixes heed this seriose, and soon they picking Pasha’s hairs from furniture to swallow.

But be one story all my guards approve for simple truth. Is on Simón Zelote de Loisaida, sad apostle. How rumor tell, Simón ain’t only be the general of armies. In last Maria’s time, he rule the city mostly by himself. Other apostles been some nothings, living scary to his will. Even Anselm stick in second place.

First, this cheer me wonderful. Can hope, Simón become my friend against all Anselm’s threats. He doing with the last Maria; never he be indignant that I going pregnant once. Ya, he must hate Anselm, how this weasel rob his power.

But, before I start no plan, a worser rumor come. This tell that Anselm kilt Simón Zelote for some politics. He keep this careful quiet. Simón be popular in the army’s love.

This be a time when Anselm and myself be most like friends. All my reception hours, we exasperate at fools together, and when they go, we ease in scabby jokes. I got my trono chair, but he must stand his aching feet. So when receptions finish, Anselm splay himself upon the floor. Ya, become my careless habit that I lie longside. Sometimes in this, he stretch against the floor in catly luxury. Rest cheek to its stone – and I will stretch and rest cheek to the stone in thoughtless kinliness.

So, in this question of Simón, I go ask Anselm straight. And he agree the tales about Simón Zelote his old power. Tell all disgusting memories of the horrible this been. ‘He would summon us to his house in Loisaida, all hours of the day and night, to issue his instructions. Often from his bed – and sometimes, Maria was
in
the bed. But no matter what he did, Simón was beloved.’

How Anselm explain, Simón be Metro; his Maria been Inúd. So every spaniel glad to them. Ya, the English give Simón respect as
vally general. ‘The worst thing about a war, senyora, is that it produces war heroes.’

But when I ask about Simón his murder, Anselm only laugh. ‘Now he’s dead? How thrilling. I wonder if anyone’s told Simón?’

‘You saying it ain’t true?’

‘It ain’t true, and Simón ain’t dead, and the word is
isn’t.’

‘Then why he disappearing, if he loving power so?’

‘But he didn’t disappear, senyora. His Maria died, and he lost his support in Inúd, and with it went his power. And one of those losses – I won’t guess which – struck him down with terrible grief. But I’m sorry to say, it didn’t kill him.’

I bring this story back, and Asha Badmouth say annoying, ‘How you even ask that rodent? Sure he going to lie. Heed my word, Simón be dead as bacon.’

All this leave me in suspicions past no toleration. Yo, two weeks be gone, and never a budge been taken toward my war. So now I go in personal hunt to find a friend important – anyone who know secret pox, and ain’t in Anselm’s ruling.

First want be for Simón Zelote, if he living anyhow. So one night when no one watch, I go with Julio-Bean to his apostle home in Loisaida. But we can only meet Simón’s own guards outside his door. Nor these Loisaidas will agree to take no message. They say, Simón depressing since his old Maria die; dislike all politics for his resentments to the living world. We roam around the house, but all we seeing be shut curtains. Come back frustrating tired, to Asha Badmouth’s jeer of ‘Dead as bacon’.

Next I seek Soledad, but this sad child be lost entire. What my Sengles heard, she live by Pedro in Inúd. Yo, when I ask Pedro, he swear ignorance to this – but his eyes false. I send Jermaine and Asha scouting there, but be no help. Pedro’s Residencia got all guards with mally temperaments. Ain’t want no Sengles setting foot, nor they admitting they know Soledad’s name. My children watch some days, but see no trace her face. She gone like breath.

In final desperation, I think on poisoner Felipe. Ever he try to kill myself, he hating Anselm right. Yo, now it seem peculiar, he ain’t coming to receptions. Is like Simón Zelote – but Felipe living to all eyes. Every morning, he give noisy sermons in their Metro church.

I ain’t try to go myself. Cannot want Anselm knowing. Felipe be his worst mistrust. So I think a foxery, how I send El Mayor. Child need good distraction, and he love politics like food. Nor no spy beware him, how he droop pathetic all these days.

First I asking, El Mayor give only nays and miseries. He cannot, and ain’t want to, ya be moron enterprise. When I insist, he asking vicious, why is mine to choose. Talk stank on Sengles, and fifteens, and gods who cannot use a fork.

But when I coming back from church next morning, he be gone. Hate You say he left to Metropolitano for my task, and Asha Badmouth add, ‘He looking prettieuse. Clean as a dish.’

When El Mayor return, is tardy night. He stomp in glad bedrunken, shining face like he infatuate. Tell laughing stories of Felipe’s brainy talk, his snobben wife, his Metropolitano Residencia that be palaces beyond. How they got a boy to serve their food who wearing whitish gloves. Give demonstrations, how he talk to them in sleeper English, sounding like peculiar books.

I ask him cautieuse, ‘You starting anything of politics?’

‘Foo, bell,’ he say. ‘I had a cat, I naming it Felipe’s Secrets. Yo it changing names before it learn to answer. Fact be truth.’

Behind this, most his days be there; yo, all his talk be stories, how he win Felipe to his love. No time be gone before he sleeping at Felipe’s Residencia, get his selfen room. These nights ain’t pleasure for myself. I known his goating habits. But cannot cavil, when he only doing my requests.

First news he bring, Felipe got psychologies on myself. Ever Maria come in mention, Felipe hush like sudden hurt. When El Mayor go ask on this, Felipe get a pickety face, like it be ghetto questions. Say, ‘Religion shouldn’t be a subject for casual conversation.’ No asking get a different answer. Be a closen door.

But soon Felipe starting his own questions, how I be to know. If I be nice or evil; be like normal or be strange. Now El Mayor get entertainments, lying on my holy self. Explain my hatred to all sex; how I save deer from cruel hunters. Say how I weep sometimes, when children only mention violence. Ya, Felipe heed this seriose, and only look for more.

One night, when they both gone in wine, Felipe start his own insanities about my perfectesse. Say any child who seen myself must know, god living in me real. I be compassionate and pure, cannot kill even roos.

Through this, El Mayor be mostly choking not to laugh. At last, he ain’t resist his mouth. Say in sleeper wise, ‘It’s strange you tried to kill her then.’

Felipe startle awful. ‘You – she knows?’

‘Sure, she knows that,’ El Mayor say. ‘Nor she doesn’t blame you, brother.’

This ruin Felipe’s face entire. He go in boozen tears and start to gabble all his murder tale. Say how he try this poisoning, for selfish politics. But God defeat his evil, though God must use Anselm’s hand. Best El Mayor can comprehend, Felipe knowing this been tricks. But he still believe this been a miracle somehow – as if no basic child can fool himself, is supernatural strange.

Yo, now Felipe do all godly sorriness for this unmurder. Go days without feeding, give free money to needy beggars. And he praying to Maria god, that she forgive his crime. This Maria be myself, but ain’t myself – all skewball notions. But why he never coming to receptions, been for guilt. He shame himself before his human god.

‘I lost my faith in the last Maria’s time,’ Felipe say. ‘I don’t think anyone could know that woman, and still believe. But when I gave Maria – our Maria – the wine, I realized. As soon as I saw her face, I
knew
. But it was too late then.’

El Mayor get pities now. Say soft, ‘It’s not too late. She’s living, see that.’

‘No,’ Felipe say with tragedy looks. ‘I mean, it’s too late for me.’

Behind this sad exposure, El Mayor go bold in questions. Ask on the search, the war, and even say I sent him for this cause. But now Felipe lose his drunken face. Go scary quiet. At last he only say, ‘Please tell her she doesn’t have to be afraid. As long as I’m here, she’s safe.’

In this, another week gone by. Is Cember 21, and still from Massa be no whisper. Search been gone some twenty days, is twice our expectations. And now my sleeping nights become all terrors, how the search destroy. Keep waking from nightmares where the searchers capture in a burning house. I trying to save them, but I got no hands, roos cut them off. Or it be Money burning, trotting normal like this fire ain’t notice, and all her burden be the NewKing, dead. And I wake in fright, and cannot sleep again. And cannot sleep. Nightmares leak their panic into morning, and in church I sometimes hold to Pasha’s hand. Only then I sleeping fearless, head down to the wooden rail.

Times, in my waking nights, I go to sit by Driver’s bed. Be foaly in uncertainties, I yearn toward my brother. Yo, he soften to me now, his bitterness forgot. Will call me fondly names like
treasure sister
and
potato
, like he done in better years.

But all this time he weaken. He sleeping in the middy noon, gone into pharmacy time. His posies grown to sores, and every movement be a wincing hurt. Yo, all his talk be sickness. Ain’t even try to fool me that he got no other life. He give his coughing speech and gasp it back – and all be of physicians’ sayings, or of pills the Marianos give for pain. His breathing be a weary labor, and can see that Driver frustrate sometimes, wish this task been rid.

Once I try to sleep by him, from clinging lonesomeness. But I ain’t sleep for nothing, only listen how he stir in pain. Think how the cure come slow across the ocean, and rage to swim out to these boats, with gun between my teeth. Fret through the night at all my feeble helplessness.

Now I start telling Anselm, we must send to Quantico for parleys.
Must start our war without no extra proof, it cannot wait. But he only heed me like a hound that yap in dull annoyance. The only change I win, the weapons factories start their tardy work, creating bullet-guns. But even here, is problems. How my guards warn, this bring the city perilous in gossip. Every fool believe we going to fight the Quantico Marines.

Come a day, it be a marching manifestation in the streets. Some thousand children yell their hatred to this unexisting war. And soldiers grabbing people from, bring them to prison in their blood. Next morning, when I walk to church, is children kneeling by the road. Say nothing, but they wearing black in token of their grief.