subrosa: the adventures of bill chase chapter_10_2

Chapter 10_2


When we got to the swimming hole, Jimmy was already floating on his back and shouting with pleasure. I took my clothes off and swung out on the rope hanging from the tree and splashed into the water. Suzanne followed.

"Watch this!" Jimmy shouted.

He had taken the rope well back and ran with it and swung up high, performed a somersault in the air and dove into the water. I tried imitating his move but landed on my back. Suzanne performed a flying back flip to show her agility. I felt a little strange in the water. It made me uneasy. I was not sure if I could really swim. Before I became obsessed with my fears, I crawled onto a rock to lay in the sun.

"Are you finished so soon?" Suzanne asked, sitting beside me.

"Yes. I am not much of a fish."

"More of a lizard."

"I think so. I am not sure what exactly, as a lizard, I am supposed to do here."

"When?"

"Now, tomorrow. Whenever."

"Do whatever makes you happy."

"What makes me happy?"

"You have to figure that out. Become a businessman or sing in a rock band or be a farmer or a fisherman."

"How do I start any of those things?"

"First, we’ll go visit the preacher and have some cookies and lemonade and not worry about life until tomorrow."

"What are you going to do with your life?"

"I don’t know yet. First I’m going to finish university. Then I’ll see what happens."

"Let’s go get some cookies," Jimmy said as he finally came out of the water.

He pulled on his pants and wriggled into his T-shirt. Suzanne and I followed his lead and shortly after mounting the horses, we were at the preacher’s house.

"Why is Jimmy so excited to come her?" I asked.

"You’ll see," Jimmy answer.

"Hi," said the preacher as he came out onto the veranda. "Been out riding, eh?"

"Just a little."

"You went for a swim."

"Refreshing."

Nothing was said after the obvious had been orated. I wondered if I should comment on his house or the sun being warm. Tension was taking its toll on my perception. I was a soft-bellied lizard, on its back, in the company of sharp tool touting, irritated apes. It was their territory. I was not sure which way to run. Every direction seemed to be walled in.

I had got off my horse but had not moved onto the veranda with the others. I watched Suzanne go in the house. Jimmy was directed into the house to help with bring out the drinks. The preacher spoke to me. His speech made it acceptable for me to wait where I was for another minute. He told me he was sending someone to take me to the barn. It was not his wife’s name he used. I waited and dreaded what might happen to me. The horse nudged me a bit with his nose so that I would pay attention to her. It made me feel better to concentrate on her demands.

"Hi."

My heart jumped. I had not heard her come out the door. She stood with the sunlight gleaming off of her black hair. She appeared like a vision. Something from my dreams. I could not remember if her roll was salvation or damnation. Or what the words meant. I had an urge to fall at her feet but I was anchored where I stood.

"You say hi’ now," she said.

"Hi."

"Are you afraid of me? You were pretty weird this morning when I saw you in the stairway."

"I do not know."

"Did you escape from a monastery or something?"

"I do not remember."

"Did you want to see the barn?"

"The barn?"

"Dad said you wanted to see the milking machine."

"I remember something about that. I suppose it cannot hurt."

"Are you nervous wondering if I’ll like you?"

"Why should that matter to me?"

"Because you want me."

"How do you know that?"

She smiled and took my hand and lead me to the barn.

"Where is your mother?"

"She is visiting a elderly lady. She’ll be back soon enough. If you don’t know what to talk about, that’s okay. I don’t mind."

I had the strangest felling in my stomach. I held my hand on it to see if it was jumping.

"In case you don’t know, Bill, I’m Kathy."

"Kathy," I said.

She looked at me. I had been staring at her.

"You are so beautiful," I said.

"Thanks, Bill."

We stepped into the barn. Light pierced through the gaps in the cladding. It shimmered like a magic sanctuary. But when my eves adjusted to the lack of light, I realised that we were just in a barn that smelled of animal excrement and hay. Kathy led me around the barn, showing me the animals. It was a short tour, ending up by the cows and a stainless steel monster that I assumed was the main event.

"This is what my father is most proud of."

"That goes on the cows?"

"It’s fitted on the tits and the milk is pumped out."

"Um."

"I always wanted to try it. But it might work better on a guy. Do you want to try it?"

She held one of the suction fittings out to me. I was not sure how to react.

"Don’t worry," She said. "I’m just kidding. I’m a little obsessed with sexual fantasies. But I’d rather not have to use machines."

"No?"

"No. I’d rather have a man."

"A man."

"Would you know where I could find one that could help me?"

"I am certain you could have your choice."

"I hope so."

Kathy put her hands under my shirt and gripped her nails into my back.

"Do you mind if I chose you?"

She kissed me. She plunged her tongue deep into my mouth so that I thought she wanted me to swallow it. She pulled me tight to her crotch. There was little doubt of her sexual hunger. Her shirt was undone and she had pushed my head onto her breast so that I should suck on her breast. It was the first breast I could remember touching with my lips. She pulled my head back up so that she could kiss me. She reached in my pants and rubbed my penis. She opened my pants and rubbed until I ejaculated on the floor.

"Lick me."

I did not know where until she pushed my head between her legs. When she had had as much as she wanted she pulled me back up to kiss me some more.

"I needed that. I hope you don’t think I’m too forward."

I was shaky and flustered. I was not sure what to say as I watched her button her blouse and zip up her jeans. She adjusted her hair before pointing to my penis.

"Put that away now. We better get back to the house."

I concocted my composure for the trip back to the house. I kept staring at Kathy in bewilderment. My desire for her was distorting my perception. I was obsessed with the idea of being with her. My darkness crept in to alarm me of the possibility that I was just a victim of natural procreation procedures. I tried to reason that it was natural for opposite sexes to be attracted; the continuance of life depended on it. But I had not thought I would be so enslaved by my condition. There was little I could do. I wanted her. She had a power that was hard to resist. Even though it scared me, I did not want to resist.

"How’d you like it?" the preacher asked as we climbed onto the porch. He smiled with pride.

I was shocked. Was he mad? What man would go to that extent to gain another follower in his flock? Was Kathy a prostitute for God? I looked at her curiously.

"The milking machine," Kathy said.

Jesus, am I ignorant? My brain quickly recovered as I reshaped my reality.

"Oh, yes. I bet the cows like it," I said.

Suzanne shook her head while the preacher smiled.

"Did Kathy show you how it works?"

"Did Jesus claim to be who he said he was?"

I wanted him to preach to me. I wanted to respond to his rhetoric with naive questions that would take great word manipulations to answer. I wanted to see him slaughter reason on the alter of blind faith.

He was not interested. He sipped on his tea as if he did not hear me.


"Did you see the baseball game yesterday? The Jays are doing good out there in Sue’s school town. I’d love to be there in that big stadium to see a game."

"No," I said. "I try to avoid the television."

"We don’t like to sit in front of the television either. Especially when we aren’t alone. But I’ll have to admit I don’t miss many baseball games. Sometimes I watch the hockey game too. Do you like table games, like Balderdash or Pictionary or Vogabulary? We like to play them when friends are over."

"I don’t know."

"We play in Toronto," Suzanne said. "We get together every Sunday and drink lots of coffee and play all night."

"As long as no one has an eight o’clock class."

"I try to avoid them."

"Kathy isn’t so good at getting up for school. I think if we’d let her, she’d sleep till ten every day."

"You’ll be in grade eleven this year, won’t you?" Suzanne asked.

"Yup."

"I’m taking a grade eleven class this year," Jimmy said.

"Kathy doesn’t like school so much," said the preacher.

"Why not?" asked Suzanne.

"Because it sucks."

"How’s that?"

"Most of the teachers are either morons, dead beats, or perverts."

With that explanation for us to ponder on, Kathy left. I wanted to follow her but I sensed convention would not permit it: convention in the shape of possessive reptiles that did not want me frolicking with the virgin princess that had been prepared for the most holy sacrifice.

Aphrodite, take me away.

"Sometimes I don’t know what to do with that girl. She is so flip and aloof or sad and melancholy," said the preacher.

I thought about how strong and beautiful she was.

"Is she adopted?"

Why did I ask that?

"Bill," Suzanne exclaimed.

"That’s all right," the preacher assured both of us. He was willing to make allowances for me because of my social handicap. "She is adopted. It’s no secret. Her parents were killed in a head on collision. A drunk driver. And he didn’t die. Just the innocent. She’s my half-brothers daughter. I was the only family. He wasn’t a Christian man though his wife did go to church. That and the accident makes it hard for Kathy to believe in God. She’s been with us, let me think, seven years maybe. Grace could tell you."

Grace had just drove in the yard.

"She is a pretty girl," Suzanne said.

Jimmy nodded to himself. We seemed to all be in agreement.

"Yes, there’s no question about that. That’s likely what made Bill wonder."

It felt like he hit me. I could only guess that he thought I did not like him. He probably knew that I thought he was a hypocrite. What zealot was not? I wondered if he might be quite aware that he was human and, although he had a direct line to God, was burdened with human limitations. I had the feeling he wanted to be my friend. I had no ground to assume that he was a moron just because he had a crutch to hold him up.

It was possible that he was baiting me for a return compliment. Maybe he wanted me to powder his fat ass. Just a little sublimation for a man in his position. I could tell him he was not ugly but maybe he should eat a little less. But it seemed inappropriate.

"Her mother was very beautiful."

I was starting to get mixed up. I wondered if the preacher was aware that he was bullshitting us with the goddam Jesus story. Maybe he thought it was funny to get money for telling people the lies they wanted or needed to hear. Maybe he was a bored genius who entertained himself by playing games with people’s brains; maybe he was playing with mine. He wanted me to submit to his myth, admit his mystical superiority and play along as one of the sheep, one of the same mindless followers. Once he got me sucked in to his cult, he could take me aside one day to tell me he was just joking and did I want a blow job. He would smile an evil smile that would leave me guessing as to whether I had heard him correctly or maybe the devil had manipulated the sounds of his words to say something he had not even thought of. Maybe he though it funny to see me resist the flow of the trodden path. It might amuse him to see someone openly disbelieving. Maybe he would like me for that.

But not likely. Most likely he was a dullard with very limited brain activity. He was probably trapped in his box of delusion. He likely had not the faintest clue what was outside.

Whatever.

"Jimmy!," shouted Grace. "Can you help me for a minute?"

"Certainly, Ma’am."

"Supposing all the world’s a stage," I started. "As what’s his name proposed, and you don’t realise it until you have been performing your role for many years, and you want a new part, or not to play, or not even to watch, just to go outside and sit on the grass, what then?"

"There is no outside," said the preacher. "And there are no good seats left in the theatre. So the most you can hope for is a good role."

"Or a good cookie," Suzanne said, passing the tray around.

"Is there any tea left?" Asked Grace.

"I’ll make some more if you don’t mind me in you kitchen," I offered.

"That’s sweet of you, I’ll accept your offer and take a seat."

They carried on with a conversation while I made a pot of tea. I was hoping Kathy would come in to see me but I was alone through the boiling of the water. I enjoyed the time it took. I examined a few photos on the wall. I wandered about looking for the bathroom and examined a few more things on the way back. When I had observed enough, I took out the tea and politely served it.

"Thanks Bill."

"Thank you, as well," I said. "I don’t want to offend anyone, but I think I’m too tired for conversation, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go back to the swimming hole and lay under a tree."

"If you must."

They all said good-bye. They all seemed so strange.

I returned to the swimming hole, contemplating my validity. I liked the swimming hole. When I was there by myself, I did not have to talk to people who crouched behind their many unfounded beliefs. Conversation was continually restricted to an illusive box of consciousness where we amused ourselves by remembering the past and talking about the possibilities for the future. We could talk about the things we were taught that we knew. We could boast and criticise. We could discuss television and rock stars. We could make familiar sounds but we could not say anything.

Every time I was asked a question, I had to calculate what answer was most appropriate. I could not say what I felt about things. I was not even certain what I felt anymore.

We, mad lizards clad in superficial elegance, become possessed swine racing to the cliff, eyes closed to our future. Our destruction.

Why should I care?

As I relaxed, I slipped into a pointless dream. The dream changed many times, taking me from place to place without me witnessing the transitions. Surroundings and people changed but it, the it, remained the same struggle to maintain an element of the elusive condition loosely known as sanity. Those I though were friends looked at me sardonically. Events took so much concentration that I was always on the edge of exhaustion. Whether I was in the sun, or in the shade, or in a dark forest wondering how the glacier that was on the one hill got there, it all seemed the same. Events were just ways of perceiving sensations. Wondering, watching and waiting. For something to happen.

The glacier was melting and it made the ground muddy. An old friend was trying to be his casual self, when he lost his footing and landed flat on his back. To prove that he was cool, he did not bother getting up out of the mud. He might still be there. I had not seen him since he fell, and I had no way of knowing where I was when I was in the forest. I can not even recall going there to get there. It seemed more like the forest was just there when the events led to it.

But that faded away. I found myself in a strange underground city. The first event I remembered was that three of us were looking around at the strange rooms and different sized openings. The rooms were huge, cold and dreary. We did not stop to think what we might be getting ourselves into, and before long we were lost deep in our search for a reason and ultimately a search for a way out.

We were crouched down in a dark hallway, looking through a small opening in the grey concrete wall. We looked out over a great number of busy people. The strange thing was, they did not seem to be accomplishing anything in all their busyness. Even stranger was, they all appeared mindlessly content and showed it with grins of complacency on their soft sagging faces.

We watched for a long time. I felt my heart jump with fear when I saw an older-looking man, in a grey suit, looking directly into my eyes. He was so different from the rest of the mindless lost, that it was obvious to me that he was in control of this chaos. He might have given me a moment of honesty. But it was quickly forgotten when it changed to the intense look that indicated I could not remain there in my condition. If he had his way, my condition would be changed. His smile said to me, ‘enjoy your last few minutes’.

I was not for staying to discover what he had to do to change me. To make me fit. I did not have to explain to my two friends the urgency of getting out of the place. Even if they had not seen the man in control, they could see plainly the mindlessness of the masses. We started running without the slightest idea where to go.

We ran through hallways and monstrously huge rooms. The place was dark but we could see clearly. The three of us were climbing up to a higher level. The next level was a bit of a struggle to get to and required we lend a little help to each other. Two of us got up into the opening. Our friend was struggling and could not make the effort that was needed to get him through. We encouraged him as we tried to pull him up. He resisted. His hopelessness weighed him down so that he remained in a sullen stupor. He was melting into a puddle.

We could see that the room was no longer empty. The two people that had come in made no move to climb to the great height we had obtained. I said something to them as a question and they looked at each other giggling while speaking in spastic gibberish that could not have meant anything. I gave one last pull on our friend. He would not and could not move.

I did not know how or why I acquire three whole-wheat English muffins in my hand. I smiled and said, ‘I’ve got your muffins’. Realising there was no real significance in them, I soon let them go. We left our melting friend and ran down the hall to the staircase. It went down only. Without realising our redundancy, we raced back down into the unknown.

I did not know where we got to or how we got there. All of our racing took us nowhere. We had not been pursued by anyone that we were aware of. But we never lost the feeling that we had to escape.



by Joanne B. Washington

read on. chapter_11



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