Lowboy (14 page)

“Koko says you look tasty,” Emily said. “Koko says there ought to be a law. I told him as a matter of fact there is.”

The dandy looked at him steadily, letting the statement hang exactly where she’d left it. Emily didn’t look at him at all. Lowboy ducked his head to study his reflection in the glass. “What’s your real name?” he said. “I bet it’s not Koko.”

Emily stopped in mid-pivot but the dandy only shrugged. “Ernest,” he said. “Ernest Copeley Johnson.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Johnson. My name’s William Heller.”

“But people call you Lowboy,” said the dandy. “Why is that?”

Lowboy bit his lip and looked at Emily. He had no memory of having told her.

“I’ve been away at school,” he said. “I had a hard time there.”

The dandy heaved a sigh. “Didn’t we all.”

“A lowboy is an item of furniture,” Lowboy said. He hesitated. “Also a dog.”

“Very interesting, Mr. Heller. Which are you?”

“He’s a man on a mission,” Emily said, taking him by the hand. “Can we leave his old crap with you, Koko?”

“That’s what I’m for,” said the dandy. “Run along.” He hummed a tune at them as they went up the stairs, jaded and magnanimous and wise, the smile lingering bittersweetly on his lips. He said something just as the shopdoor swung shut but the noise of the traffic eclipsed it. “What was that?” said Lowboy.

Emily took his ear and pinched it. “Something about liking your new look.”

They crossed the street like other people, like people with nothing between them, and she steered him gently back the way they’d come. He had to ask her twice where they were going.

“I’m a lame-ass, Heller. I forgot something at Crowley. Can we go back for just a second?”

“What did you forget?” he said, slowing. Crowley was finished, a completed episode. “Was it something important?”

“Take my word for it, Heller.”

He didn’t want to take her word for it. “What is it?”

She mumbled something that he couldn’t hear.

“Emily?”

“Rubbers. It’s
rubbers
, Heller. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “I guess that’s all right, then.”

They walked half a block without saying anything else. He was thinking about rubbers, about what rubbers were for, and about the look on her face when she’d finally answered his question. An impatient look, almost resentful, as if the word was somehow too specific. And it was too specific. It turned a cold blue light on what was going to happen.

“It’s not like I keep rubbers in my locker all the time,” she said, keeping half a step ahead of him. “I don’t want you to think that I’m a slut.” When he said nothing to that she gave a laugh and took out
her pack of Salem Lights. “Or maybe I do want you to think that. I don’t know.”

She slowed down to let him catch her, knocking a cigarette out of the pack, waiting for him to say something.

“Can I bum a smoke?”

She sighed and dropped the pack into his palm. There were only three left and that made him uneasy. Sometime soon they’d have to stop at a bodega.

“You never used to smoke, Heller. You used to be afraid of it. You even used to be afraid of matches.”

“Everyone smokes at the school.” He found a cigarette he liked and shook it out. “There’s nothing else to do.”

She lit a match for him. “Didn’t you have board games or anything? Wasn’t there any TV?”

“The TV was just a bunch of moving pictures.”

She frowned at him. “Was the volume broken?”

“There wasn’t anything—” He stood still for a moment, thinking of a way to make it clear. “No story. There was nothing behind it.”

“Sounds like regular old TV to me.”

“No,” he said. “Sometimes there’s a story. Like today.”

“You’re right about that,” she said, smiling at him. “A little something for the
Daily News
.”

“Or the Post,” he said. “They wrote about us once. Do you remember?”

She shook her head. “Just you. I wasn’t in it.”

“You’ll be in it this time,” he said. “You’re going to be famous, Emily.”

“You don’t have to make me famous,” she said. “You only have to make me someone else.” She pulled him closer. “I want to be a different kind of person.”

“I’ll make you someone else,” he said softly. “I promise I will, Emily. I’ll make you a slut.”

She let out a cough and pulled her body backward. At first he thought she was laughing but she only rocked back stiffly on her
heels. Her tongue made a hollow sound against her teeth and she put her cigarettes away and started walking. Lowboy didn’t move.

“I don’t want to go backwards, Emily.”

“Why not?”

He shook his head. “That part of it is over. No more Crowley.”

She shrugged and started walking even faster.

He understood then that there were two ways of making her look back at him: the sick way and the well. The way that would keep her and the way that would lose her forever. What would Violet say, he thought, then closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it. Violet wasn’t well. Neither was Kopeck. Neither was the world. The best thing to do was to kneel down and cry. The best thing to do was to run screaming out into the street.

“Emily,” he called out. “Hold on, Emily. I’m sorry.”

When she turned to look at him her face was wet. “You don’t look sorry,” she said. “You don’t look sorry at all.”

“That’s what they told me in court.” He smiled at her. “Before I got sent away. That’s what your father said.”

That brought her up short. “My father,” she murmured, opening her eyes wide.

He waited for her to laugh or spit at him or slap his face.

“Do you know what my father did when I told him I didn’t want to testify? Do you want me to tell you what he did to me, Heller?”

A picture came to him then of Emily’s father, pale and hulking on the sofa, staring pigfaced at the seven o’clock news. He remembered her cringing mother. “I don’t want you to tell me,” he said.

“He couldn’t make me, though.” She crossed her arms. “Things have changed with him and me since then.”

“Changed how?”

“They’ve gotten worse.”

“But I’m not your father.”

She laughed. “That’s true. You’re fucked up in a totally different way.”

“I love you, Emily.”

She nodded absentmindedly. “I know.”

He took a deep breath, as much as he could fit into his chest, and held on to the air until it hurt him. He thought of what he could do to prove he wasn’t lying.

“How are you feeling, Emily?”

“I’m okay, Heller. Don’t worry about me. I don’t feel bad anymore.”

“All right, then,” he said. “Let’s go to Crowley.”

Hello Violet how are you?

They gave me or deposited me in a new room which the Headmaster says is a Real Sign of Promise. Not a room necessarily more like a corner with a shitcolored tarp around it but a bed & nobody else can sleep there. & a light that I can turn on when I want & obviously this pen or else how would I be writing. How are you?

Today Dr Prekopp said How awesome Willy that you asked for your own room & a pen etcetera now that’s what we like to call Progress. Only please don’t tell our dirty secrets thank you in advance. Hugs & Kisses. So I laughed because how could I do it? Secrets are secrets because nobody says them out loud. If nobody can’t then I can’t Violet. I’m a 24 hour student now but nobody here has taught me how to tell. I won’t do it I said no worries Dr Prekopp. I don’t tell secrets. Also I said to him don’t call me Willy
.

There was a Flat Time Violet as you know but things happened without
me & yesterday the Headmaster said William you’ve been here for
6 months. I didn’t take that as a fact but Dr Prekopp said it was or he corroborated it & showed me my chart so I could count the days & doses for myself. When the cat’s away he said Help yourself Willy no skin off my pimply behind. Dr Prekopp! I said. You’ll make a bighearted woman a bigbellied husband one day & he laughed & asked me what song I was quoting. (Potbellied Blues) I told him something about you Violet but I haven’t told him yet that you are blond. Are you still blond actually? Or has there been a wig?

I’ve seen terrible things Violet. Somebody had to see them. Somebody low. If you meet anyone who knows me at PAYLESS SHOE SOURCE or DAFFY’S CLOTHING BARGAINS FOR MILLIONAIRES you can tell them I’ve seen terrible things. But don’t tell anyone at BERGDORF GOODMAN
.

I was sitting in the Smoking Room reading the Wall Street Journal when I saw the Schoolmaster aka Dr Fleisig sliding sideways down the hall. Fleisig is a friendly Mediterranean man he looks a little bit like Jacques Cousteau. But this time I jumped up & dropped my cigarette & ran to the door. Because I knew by then it wasn’t exactly Fleisig. He was changing his haircut every 6 or 7 steps & playing temperature games inside his body. & at night he used my hands and mouth to eat with. Truth Be Told Violet! we used to watch Underwater Movies. My father would make seafood soup & beer & you cooked me a beautiful Jell-O. Why Underwater, Violet. Why Movies. You had Pam Anderson hair but I didn’t know it then. You kissed him on the shoulder. You said “Stop it, Alex.” You were younger then at least than I am now. Also 63 years old. Also CRAB CAKES. My father making fun of Jacques Cousteau or was it me. Which one was it. Don’t tell Will what’s in the soup he said to you one time. He might possibly lose his shit
.

The room turned green and blue when we had dinner. What did he say
to you Violet I can’t remember. But you laughed & kissed him on the
shoulder & that was all there could be in the world
.

A man goes into a bar Violet he asks for any kind of beer but please not Schlitz. Why not Schlitz says the bartender Schlitz is a quality beer. Yes says the man but last night I drank Schlitz and blew chunks. Happens to the best of us says the bartender. You don’t understand the man says Chunks is my dog!

Skull & Bones told me that one Violet is it funny
.

There was a time or an occasion when Fleisig appeared at my bedside wearing your stepfather’s head. Playing temperature games was a favorite of his at that time. Fleisig the schoolmaster making the whole schoolhouse hot. He used crude oil to do it actually & electronics. Fossil fuels Violet. At times he put degrees into my body. Me thinking all the time How can I lower the temperature? How can I keep it low? Since the day I was born 12 September 1992 the MGT (Mean Global Temperature) has gone up by 7 and one half degrees
.

There’s a language of numbers Violet if you can follow it: 2773664748 565758933 5758489 757. 47458959 3263647478548585858 2632. 37 4855959 967009858483783. 72726 7474. 7474. 7474.7474
.

There’s still time Violet. Things get brighter suddenly as in a theater. People get better. Things have been known to laugh at me for example Clouds In The Sky or my own mouth. Tom Brokaw said this: Scientists believe the warming will continue, not on a straight line but on a curve. Which is my idea Violet as you know very well. How did Brokaw find out did you tell?

Fleisig is a German name which means hardworker or industrious in that language. Be Fleisig, people say to their children. Make sure to always be Fleisig. Of course you know that Violet since you come from Austria, not Germany at all but a country most of us have never heard of. Or we’ve heard of it Okay but we don’t care. Do you know about Fleisig Violet? He knows all about you. Fleisig is the Superintendent of the School. Always be Fleisig. Approximately 6 times he inserted into
my body an electronic device or molecule no bigger than a little piece of skin. This molecule was I later found out “bioengineered” & soft like a piece of old jelly. Some times he put it in my right arm some times he put it in my neck. Always professionally done & no discomfort. As a result the school was able to get intimate with me & generally to speak its Proper Mind. But could I speak my mind Violet I could not. Most of the time I couldn’t say a word
.

The lights get brighter suddenly as in a theater & I’m in the audience & not even in a good seat. People things & colors look “projected.” How can I believe in things Violet. How can I believe in “people.” There’s talk in the theater about William Heller. Will he be able to perform the miracle? Will he lower the temperature? Is it the voices of real people or is it my own voice or is it just another joke of Fleisig’s. Machinery and wires under the stage giant turbines just to keep the flashbulbs going. That’s why it’s always so hot. Stars are there & also paparazzis. You’re there too Violet smiling & holding hands with your Projection. The movie is dubbed but dubbed badly. The School is a movie like that. How funny that Fleisig looks like Jacques Cousteau
.

I found an article yesterday in The New York Times. It’s called

IN CHILDBEARING, A BATTLE ON MANY FRONTS
.

Dr David Haig plays a scientist who makes some discoveries about
mothers & their embryos. People find his discoveries Upsetting. “Natural
Selection favors offspring that get enough nutrients from their mothers
to grow up healthy,” the scientist says. However Violet. “Natural
Selection favors mothers who retain enough nutrients to have larger
families.” The scientist tells people that This leads to conflict. The
Mothers and the embryos fight for Nutrients in the mothers’ blood. The
New York Times calls this THE SILENT STRUGGLE. “Dr David
Haig suspects that this conflict may add to the risk for mental disorders,
from depression to autism” etc. This may explain your mental illness Violet
.
I got low during the flat time Violet As You May Know. Too low actually you would have laughed. There were even Pampers Violet please don’t tell. They thought I was asleep because my eyes looked shut but I was seeing Every Little Thing That Happened. Somebody had to see it. Everything was quiet Violet you know what that means Everything Was Dubbed. Badly dubbed in fact and out of Sync. Sometimes worth paying attention to sometimes not. Occasionally sexy. There was interest in my penis Violet. It was difficult!