The Country of Ice Cream Star (50 page)

Day of manifestations bring some mystery joy to Anselm. In sudden change, his manners smile. Go laughing–joking through the day. Yo, all apostles happier kept. They grin in meeting, and their eyes share in some glad conspiracy.

This bring me into scary moods, what trickeries be forward. My Sengles know no telligence; nor El Mayor heard nothing strange. Yo, questioning Anselm be no use. He say his nothing and nothing else, and smile to my frustration.

Next day, these complications bring me–Anselm into open strife. Been in our privy hour behind receptions. We lain together on the floor, our habit from more friendly time. Yo, I ask what we do, if no one coming back from Massa.

In days before, this question going to bring his snapping-turtle face. But now he answer light, ‘Let’s think. We send another search? No, let’s wait peacefully for death.’ He gesture to the painten ceiling. ‘Heaven will receive us.’

‘Shee,’ I say annoying. ‘Least we do, we tell the city. They all in pointless frights about Marines.’

Anselm taken with a yawn. He rid this slow and say in sleepy voice, ‘Yes, they’re halfway to insurrection. So you believe it would help to say we’re actually planning to fight white demons – who may not exist?’

‘Roos exist, goddamn. Kilt half my children with their stank existence.’

‘Senyora, I’m pointing out that nobody will believe it.’

‘Believe it, if we tell them right. If apostles telling, they believe.’

‘Because our apostles are known for their perfect honesty. I understand.’

I sit up frustrating. ‘They going to learn it be the truth. Ya, cannot be no worse. Go on like this, it be rebellion total.’

Anselm shut eyes like simple peace. ‘And if there is rebellion total, we will squash that rebellion totally. It won’t be the first time, sadly.’

‘Kill your own people, for some misbelief? Been prettieuse.’

‘Yes, regrettable. But if we didn’t, there would be rebellions every month. We’ve had that also.’

‘Foo, you trying to fret me now. Ain’t even mean this awfulness.’

To this, he only nay his finger. Look like he mostly sleep, his body loose in its long dress. And he muttern from shut eyes, ‘War is evil, but is sometimes needful.’

At first, I still believe he only pesting me. I even consider tickling him, how he lain unbewares. But then a nasty inkling come. Stop awful in my breath. Why they making extra guns, it ain’t to fight no roos; ain’t even been to please myself. These guns prepare against rebellion. They made to kill our selfen people.

Almost, I rid this thought. Remind, the guns begun this strife. No person thinking to rebel, until the guns been made. But cannot lose my doubt. It stick and stick like evil smell.

I look on Anselm, where he lain in his same peacefulness. I say, ‘You do this filth, it be without myself. Know this.’

‘You’re joining the rebellion?’ Anselm open curiose eyes. ‘Brave girl. But shouldn’t you check with Felipe first? I know you place such reliance on his advice.’

‘Ain’t seen Felipe since the clausen signing,’ I say stiff. ‘Be no Felipe in this story.’

‘That’s nice to hear. I like to hear nice things.’

Our eyes meet in some bad comprehending. Then Anselm sit up
and arrange his dress around his knees. Fold his hands and say like simple task, ‘About your baby.’

I scoff breath. ‘Shee, known your threats. They old.’

He say on unheeding, ‘At this moment, two people know about that incident. Pedro and myself.’

‘And physicians know.’ I shrug annoying. ‘So?’

‘No, actually, there are only two people.’ He look to me with teaching face, wait for my understanding.

My gut go cold. ‘You saying, they dead? You murdern they physicians?’

Anselm flutter his hand toward the cloudy ceiling. ‘Yes, sad. But getting back to the point. Pedro does
not
know about your advances to Felipe. And I’d advise you to keep any thoughts about rebellion from him also. I actually like you, santa reina. I would miss you if you were gone. Pedro …’ Anselm make a sour mouth. ‘He isn’t so enamored.’

This fight been Cember 23, when my Maria life seem like it been a year of winters. Must walk to church and sit in meetings, sign my name to papers. I scarce remember how the earth can feel to naked feet. My body start to feel unclad without Maria dress; sometimes I startle that my Sengles ain’t stoop down to greet me. I terrify for the search, I fight my voice for war, think madness plans – yo these despairs come normal now. I scarce expect no other life.

But it been only one more day when all this misery shatter. Ya, my Maria life go shattering, lost into the past.

50

OF VANISH PEOPLE THEIR APPEARANCE

This ending start on Nochebuena – night before their Navidad, the birthing day of Jesus baby. All the city be in tinsel ornaments and sprucen rings, and half our guards–ermanos gone to festival in their homes. But my Maria work been long the same. Send me to my iglesia rooms with sad and skinny moods.

Then I be in the sofa room, lain flat in silken underdress. Got church at middy night for Nochebuena pookery; I rest my pinchen skin before the worser grooming this will need. Keepers on the floor beside. She got a bitty plastic cow, is trying to saw its head off with a meat knife. Pasha telephoning cocktails, our new habit in this time.

Through this, Jermaine be reading the Marias Bible out to us. Be mostly like the Christings’ book, but got some scandal differences. Jermaine been Christing born – his early brains been pickled in their nonsense – and now he angering how the Marias Noah take extra children in his boat, a whitish pair without no morals. God want to drown all whites and leave the world to Noah’s blackish get. But Noah foolish in his pity. Cannot leave all whites to die, whatever stank they be.

Seem funny to myself, and I be laughing when El Mayor come in the door.

I saying, ‘God some helpless mouse, cannot just kill these roos? Squitch with fingers, they be done.’

‘He strike them at His will,’ Jermaine say seriose. ‘But you ain’t seeing–’

‘Ice,’ say El Mayor with nervy looks, ‘can talk to you apart?’

I sit up hazy, smiling to him.

Pasha cover telephone with hand and say to El Mayor, ‘Want some cocktail?’

El Mayor look cold to this. ‘Nay, I need no cocktail. Ice Cream?’

‘Yo sho.’ I get up hasty. Be mostly fearing, been some trouble down to Metropolitano.

He say nothing till we gone into the sleeproom by. Then – how he never done these weeks – he close the door behind.

My heart unbalance, guessing he invite me into love. But when he turn, his face be all resenting misery.

And El Mayor say, ‘Why you got to show yourself like that?’

‘How you meaning?’

‘Wearing unders.’ He swallow at his throat. ‘You know.’

‘Ain’t unders. Yo who thinking what I wear? Be later hours.’

‘He thinking. Roo be thinking, sure is right.’

Then I comprehend. Injustice flash into my nerves. ‘You ask me here for this? I thought this nonsense been forgot.’

He get a look I recognize from jalousies before, like all his mind be burning red. ‘Ain’t forgot by every child who tell your dirt in Metro.’

‘Now it be gossips?’ I say hot. ‘And how I even do no filth? Got a dozen children watching, ever I pick my nose.’

‘Ain’t mine to know.’ He grit his mouth. ‘In Metro–’

‘Metro, shee! And sure, you brave to mention Metro, where you keeping every nights. Guess what you do there.’

This catch into silence. We look bitter, one to one. And El Mayor say cold, ‘Be only doing what you done yourself.’

Take a staring breath before I comprehend his meaning. Then the room go small somehow. I say, ‘Nay, truth, you got some girl?’

He flinch, look to the floor. ‘Why I cannot?’

‘But you … you done this real? Ain’t only saying for some punishment?’

‘Punishment for what? What you done?’

‘I done nothing! Shee you know! You only guilty for yourself!’ My voice break high, ya I be shivering, crossing arms against myself.

Then something falter in his face. He narrow on me in painful thought. I take a choken breath, feel weightless somehow with my awful. Confusen mind keep saying, ain’t no reason I should hurt. He fleeing me all weeks, we finish. Nor I love him right – but to this thought, my heart go skeering red.

Then El Mayor say softer, ‘Ain’t mean nothing, what this been.’

I scoff a teary laugh. ‘You told this girl that she be nothing?’

‘Ice, nay. Ain’t no girl. Was girls. You know how.’

This saying jeer inside my head.
Ain’t no girl. Was girls
. Cannot see how it be worse, but all my body strange with cold. ‘Should expect. How you be.’

He shake his head, his eyes gone wisty shame. ‘Ain’t even come to say that. Had some news. It all come wrong somehow.’ He look down to my dress, and all his face be feeling misery.

‘News?’

‘I seen you there … be like I lose my memory.’

‘Shoo, what news you got? Can leave this. Want to leave this now.’

He gaze at my dress a longer moment, like he finish some thought. Then he look up and say, ‘Think I seen Mamadou.’

First, this ain’t comprehend. Is like he saying it in Massa – he seen Mamadou in the woods. I even tense in worry that his jalousies found their right object. But then my mind come bright. I say with catching breath, ‘Yo, where?’

‘In Metro, in some hinder street. Child been in soldier clothes, alone. But can swear it been himself.’

‘Ain’t spoken to him?’

‘He skit away before I call. Felipe been with me, I ain’t want to chase.’

‘Goddamn, should chase.’

‘I know. Was … sure I know.’

I force my painful mind to think. ‘You figure he fled from Massa alone? He hiding?’

El Mayor grimace his unknowing. ‘You heard nothing here?’

‘Nay, been normal boredom. Navidad and so.’

‘Can be some soldier, only look like Mamadou. But I can swear, it been himself.’

I grimace into thought. Cannot see any reason Mamadou come back alone. Even if they try to kill him, he ain’t never fled – been impossible for pride. A moment, I consider if he murdern all these children – sixty penals, twenty guards and Juan. Return with only Crow–First Runner and slip into hiding.

Then El Mayor say soft into my thought, ‘I got to go. Felipe wait for me in Metro. For Nochebuena meal, you comprehend. Ain’t be no other reasons.’

I flinch, look up uncertain. ‘Sure.’

‘Ain’t want no girl before you, Ice. You knowing this?’

‘Yo sho,’ I say in difficult voice. ‘Can guess.’

‘Love you worse than broken legs. Ain’t brave to risk you, all it is. I even think of this, I lose my wants.’

‘So they be lost.’ I force a smile.

‘Nay, shoo.’

He reach out to my shoulder. Touch it careful soft, like he be touching to a wound. Yo, I confuse in sorriness. Now Mamadou woken to my heart, can want no other hands.

But El Mayor freeze in a sudden conscience. Look back to the door.

Yo, as if his fear call it to life, a knocking come there hard.

El Mayor startle back. I flinch myself, call up in nervy voice, ‘Yo what?’

‘Senyora? Can come in?’ Be the voice of my guard Julio, shy behind the door.

I look distress to El Mayor. Already he stalken far from me, frown guilty to the wall. I say fretful, ‘Sure, come in. Be here.’

Julio open quick. Glance to my underdress, then look away with careful face. ‘Senyora, is from Simón Zelote. He want to see you now.’

Bean peek past his shoulder. ‘He sent a car. It’s down there, if you want to go.’

‘Simón Zelote?’ I say footless. ‘How … he saying what he need?’

‘They don’t say what.’ Julio shrug. ‘Ask for you, to Loisaida. Is too late?’

Bean muttern, ‘Seven’s not late. She’s got four hours till church.’

‘Loisaida, foo,’ I say unready. ‘Why he ain’t come himself?’

‘How he does,’ say Julio.

‘Bossy,’ Bean agree. ‘He even sent his guards to bring you.’

‘Guards?’ I say misliking. ‘You be sure they even his?’

‘They’re his.’ Bean nod with knowledge looks. ‘They was here a lot, when we had the last Maria. Same routine.’

I look back to El Mayor, who still be frozen in dismays. Now I be fretting if this can connect to Mamadou. If all the search return with him, be there in Loisaida. But ain’t no reason they gone to Simón. They should come here.

Yo, dark in memory, come Asha Badmouth’s
Dead as bacon
. Guards be Simón’s – but any a child can send them with an easy lie. And if Simón be dead, these guards ain’t here for no good task. Yo, Anselm’s threats repeat in mind. Can magine how I go to meet a ghost, and die in secret night.

But I say in hoarsen voice, ‘Ya, can tell them that they wait. I only need some clothes.’

51

BY SIMÓN ZELOTE

Simón Zelote’s car be large in elegance. In its back seat, can stretch my legs out long, breathe only leathern smell. The guards and driver all be Metros, clean in soldier clothes. Try asking what Simón want, but they comprehend no English word. At last, I sit back nerviose and stare the passing streets.

Loisaida be the neighbor burrow to the south. Place be a wilder dereliction, and its children poor. Got crime in every sort, and starving, every bad unhappiness. Ya, most barracks there, to keep the soldiers’ misbehaviors where it be no worth to harm.

Come across their border, and the road be sudden rough. Car joggle like a trotting horse. Buildings all got cloudy plastic covering the window holes, and hills of trash beside their doors. Upon this trash, the snow be clean, but all around be trample filth. Most thing I notice, be some littles by an orfanato, chasing pigeons. They wearing blankets, stead of coats, and plastic bags on their sock feet.

Residencia where we come be drear concree, sans no bellesse. But here the windows all be whole, the road be swept and nice. Wear Mariano flags along the front, flap sad in Cember wind. Yo, as I come out of the car, a redcoat guard step from the door. Call clear polite, ‘Senyora, please to follow. Simón is waiting.’