Джойс Оутс - Zombie

In the front hall I was walking Mr. T__ to the door there was Abdellah & Akhil at the mailboxes & they were chattering together & their eyes & teeth flashing & went quiet at once as Mr. T__ (who is a big slope-bellied white man with a flushed face & balding scalp) bore upon them & murmured Excuse me! & eased past in the narrow space. & Abdellah & Akhil went upstairs quiet now. & Mr. T__ said nothing until we were out onto the porch then said, Must be a little weird for a white man, white caretaker, for them, eh? & adding quickly I don’t mean anything by it, I’ve got lots of black friends. I’m speaking of history .

On the air conditioner in Q__ P__’s CARETAKER quarters were nine small stones from the back yard. There had been fifteen originally.

As the days passed. & GROUND ZERO located somewhere within those remaining days of August.

August 9. Dad & Mom called & left a joint message. They would be away for two weeks as usual on Mackinac Island. Sorry you don’t care to join us Quentin! But if you should change your mind— & I pressed the button ERASE.

August 11. Junie called. I was in the old cellar preparing the “operating” room in the cistern & came upstairs for a beer & there was Junie’s scolding voice just recording. Saying she’d been expecting me to return her calls & why haven’t you Quentin. Are you O.K. Quentin. Is anything wrong Quentin. You are not drinking again Quentin are you. Please call back .

ERASE.

HOW THINGS PLAY OUT. A certain juncture of TIME & SPACE. A certain minute of a day of a life & a stretch of a one-way alley of security fences, high hedges & rears of buildings. (The site I chose for the van & the capture was behind a commercial building FOR SALE & the rear entrance & garage never used. No private residences nearby. Always the chance of somebody driving through the alley, other kids on bikes etc. but that was a chance Q__ P__ must take.) & NO TURNING BACK.

Six stones remaining on the air conditioner. & then five, & then four. FRAGMENT Q primed to EXPLODE but: when?

Thursday August 25 would be the date, I thought. GROUND ZERO & on my calendar taped inside my locker door I marked it in red Magic Marker: *

How many times Q__ P__ awaits SQUIRREL his prey in his van calm & methodical. & how many times Q__ P__ is SQUIRREL pedaling his bicycle fast & jaunty & graceful & oblivious to all danger like a deer running & leaping & the hunter’s scope trained to his heart. SQUIRREL with his TIGERS cap backward on his blond-brown hair & his lean shoulders hunched over the lowered handlebars & the belt & waist of his jeans so narrow it looked like I could circle my fingers around him. & that little pigtail! & his tanned good-looking face lifted, the forehead slightly creased in that way you see in kids & it surprises you, a kid thinking let alone worrying. Like SQUIRREL knows himself the bearer of a SPECIAL DESTINY. & I saw the knobby vertebrae of his spine & a shiver ran through me.

No! he is too beautiful for Q__ P__ to touch!

Jerking off every few hours, too wired to sit still & too excited to go out & risk somebody seeing me & reporting I’m on speed, or freaked-out. & avoiding the tenants, not answering when there’s a knock on the door. & Mom called from Mackinac saying why didn’t I come up after all, spend a few days it’s so lovely here the water so beautiful & air so clear. & Dad came on the line hearty & friendly & ERASE with my thumb. & again Junie & I lift the phone & right away she’s bitching. It’s August 21 & why haven’t I returned her calls, she’d left at least three messages for me she was worried about me for God’s sake! & so on. I’m eating frozen Taco Bell beef burritos & drinking Bud out of the can. Flicking through the TV channels. Fifty-two channels & back again to the beginning. I’m edgy like there is something I am seeking & don’t know what it is. Junie is TALKING. Like she’s always TALKED. Big Sis who’s hot shit, junior high principal. Gummy green guacamole sauce running down my arm. On channel six there’s naked black corpses in a dump somewhere in Africa. On channel nine there’s bawling children in some bombed-out hospital in this place called Bosnia. & fading to an ad This is your governor speaking . On channel eleven an ad for a van bouncing over a rocky desert landscape. On channel twelve the weather news Michigan & Great Lakes region continued high temperatures . On MTV a hot-looking spic cunt with electric hair is licking the nipples of a strung-out cokehead whitey & I’m flicking back to channel eleven. Junie is saying sharp like she’s in the room with me Quentin damn it are you there? & Q__ says Where the fuck else would I be, Junie? & there’s a pause like the bitch has been slapped in the face. & I’m trying to finish the burrito & staring at the TV screen knowing there is some message here, something urgent. Junie says she would like to speak with me, she is worried about me, the influence the wrong kind of associates can have on me. It’s a new-model Dodge Ram speeding over the rocky terrain. Big glaring moon in the sky. Or is the Dodge Ram on the moon, & that’s the Earth floating there? Junie is saying I owe it to Mom & Dad to try to live a good life. & I am a good decent person deep in my heart—she knows. Says she isn’t always on an emotional equilibrium herself. She has her stressed-out periods , too. In fact she’s seeing a holistic therapist in Ann Arbor . But please don’t tell Mom & Dad, Quentin?—they think I’m the strong one. They depend on me to be there for them . A pause & she says Quentin? are you there? & I grunt yeah yeah & I’m thinking how your sister (or it could be your brother) comes out of the identical hole you came out of. & shot from the identical prick. & all of it blind & chance & yet there’s the DNA CODE. & that is why a sister (or a brother) knows you that way you don’t want to be known. Not that Junie knows me . Not that anybody in the Universe knows me . But if one of them did it would be Junie staring into Q__ P__’s soul.

Junie repeats she’s inviting me for dinner tomorrow night, not just to talk but there’s this friend she’d like me to meet & I say I’m busy. Well, the night after that?—& I’m busy. & she’s pissed saying what’s the big deal in your life, Quentin? don’t bullshit me . Saying, you’re involved with—who? & I’m watching TV & don’t hear. & she says, serious now, You know what I’m afraid of, Quentin?—one of your secret associates , some druggie will injure you one of these days, that’s what I’m afraid of. For Mom & Dad’s sake. Because you’re too naive & you’re too trusting like it’s the Sixties or something & you’re too plain God-damned stupid to know your own best interests.

The Dodge Ram bounces over the landscape. Fade to assholes in baseball uniforms, Tiger Stadium, Detroit.

Now I know the final step. Eating the second burrito I’m not even hungry for but I’m ravenous, my mouth is alive by itself & devouring what’s in my hand. On the way to GROUND ZERO in four days. Like a jigsaw puzzle part that’s been missing & now I have it & the puzzle is complete.

Went down into the cellar & shut & locked the door behind me. & into the old cellar, & shut & secured the door. & there were the BABY CHICKS like I’d dreamt them except they were real! CHEEP CHEEP CHEEPING. & no fear of me. & I changed their water (in aluminum foil saucers) in each of the boxes & picked out some of the droppings & sprinkled bread pellets & grain for them. & though only a week or so old these BABY CHICKS pecked hungrily & unerringly & could take care of themselves like adult birds. For all their lives were just eating. & that was provided for them.