Джойс Оутс - Zombie

At the time the phone rang I was on the third floor in Akhil’s room using a screwdriver to open the rusted furnace vent which had been only partway open. Crouched over & my face heavy with blood. Akhil is from Calcutta, India. Maybe he is Hindu? A physics grad student & maybe one of Dad’s but I would never inquire nor would Akhil make any connection between the CARETAKER of this property in his jeans & sweatshirt & PROFESSOR R__ P__ who is so distinguished.

Akhil is shy & dusty-skinned & slender as a girl. In his mid-twenties at least but looks fifteen. Their blood so different from ours. Ancient civilization. Monkey-like. He speaks English so soft & whispery I almost can’t hear —Thank you sir . Take care NOT TO MAKE EYE CONTACT but in our mutual awkwardness I did glance at him, & he was looking at me, he was smiling. Eyes liquidy-brown like a monkey’s would be, a warm glisten in them.

Oh Jesus my eyes slid down him, the slippery length of him. Melting at his crotch. A shimmering puddle at his feet.

Q__ P__ was observed standing quickly. Had to get out of that room. My voice loud & American & movements clumsy but I believe this is what any CARETAKER of any rooming house in University Heights would say under the circumstances That’s O.K., it’s my job .

Thursday was Q__ P__’s busy day!

Chores at the house. Drive-in breakfast in the van at Wendy’s on Newaygo Street. Swallowed two uppers with black coffee. Swung around to Third Street to XXX VIDEO to return last night’s video & rent another, a new release. Feeling O.K. 10 A.M. meeting with Mr. T__ in the county services building, the old wing beside the courthouse. Where you walk through the metal detector & two county sheriff’s deputies give you the eye. & upstairs in the probation dept. Mr. T__’s door is shut & I wait for a few minutes & I’m O.K., I’m cool. Shaved last night & had a shower yesterday morning, or day before. Always wear a necktie, coat & a belt for my trousers at Mr. T__’s. A black dude looking like Velvet Tongue waiting for his probation officer too but I don’t want to look too close nor does he. & Mr. T__ calls me in & there is a handshake & Have a seat, Quentin, how’re things going? & I say. How’s your caretaking job? & I say. How’s your classes at Dale Tech ? & I say—pretty good, a B in Intro to Computer & a B—in Intro to Engineering & Mr. T__ nods & writes something down. Or anyway doesn’t question.

Asks me how’s my group therapy, am I attending faithfully & I say. How’s my private therapist & I say.

& my medication? still taking your medication? & I say.

Tells me his sister’s son got a degree in electrical engineering from Dale Tech & has a good entry-level job with GE in Lansing.

Tells me our next meeting he’s sorry he’s going to be away on vacation so we’ll schedule it for four weeks same time same place O.K.?

There is a handshake at the end of the session. & Q__ P__ observed polite & respectful YES SIR. NO SIR. GOODBYE SIR.

Leaving Mr. T__’s office I see the black dude so resembling Velvet Tongue is just leaving his probation officer too & I hold back letting him get to the elevator first & take it down without me.

NO EYE CONTACT ANYWHERE BENEATH THIS ROOF.

Then out to Dr. Fish in Dale Springs. Driving the expressway north & out of the city. The edge of the lake. Tin-colored & the sky the same color. 11:30 A.M. appointment, same office in the same building Dr. Fish has had for years. Receptionist is new & doesn’t know me nor the female assistant, Asian-American with a flat face & breathy voice, calls me in & puts on her gauze mask & rubber gloves & seats me in the chair & prepares me for X-rays & teeth cleaning & I’m a little stiff & she lowers the chair with a pneumatic hiss & my stomach lurches & eyes shoot open & the girl is looking at me Sorry! was that too fast? For just that instant I was BIG GUY going under, or RAISINEYES, or who was it—BUNNYGLOVES. & I saw Velvet Tongue in my place in my own body in this chair & it’s like my eyes were his! But it passes. I’m O.K. The girl lays the lead bib over my chest to protect me from X-rays & arranges the little X-ray cardboards in my mouth so I’m almost gagging but I hold on, I’m cool. The girl says Please hold, don’t move & noiseless leaves the room & sets the machine humming. It might be that Q__ P__ is being photographed and/or videotaped here, might be Q__ P__’s actual brain is being X-rayed & the negatives sent to the county offices & East Lansing, the capital of Michigan & the F.B.I. in D.C. & to Dad c/o Physics Dept., Mt. Vernon State University. But I am not agitated, I am calm & unsuspecting. I have nothing to hide. What happened with the black boy was Q__ P__’s first offense, & a suspended sentence followed no actual jail time beyond the detention center—THAT IS THE PUBLIC RECORD. Flatface in her gauze mask returns & I’m almost asleep so calm & she takes out the X-ray cardboard & positions another & leaves the room again & sets the machine humming. & again. & again. WHEN Q__ P__ FIRST REALIZED THAT EVERYTHING HAPPENS AGAIN & AGAIN. & SOME PEOPLE KNOW, & SOME PEOPLE NEVER KNOW. Seventh grade, when my friend Barry died. When I PEELED OFF THE CLOCK HANDS. Flatface returns & the next step is cleaning my teeth & flossing which takes a long time. At a distance there is prickling & stinging in somebody’s mouth but I’m almost asleep. Please rinse , & I wake up rinsing my mouth taking care to shut my eyes not wanting to see the blood-tinged liquid. Somebody’s gums smarting & bleeding. This goes on for a while & finally it’s over & Dr. Fish himself comes in & he’s wearing a gauze mask too & rubber gloves & I feel a little shiver, excitement like a spike in the cock, behind the mask & glasses you don’t know Dr. Fish is an old guy in his fifties at least, his hair’s still O.K. unless it’s dyed?—& he’s looking at the teeth chart the female assistant has handed him & the X-rays & asking me how I am, how’s the family Quentin, & the high school, he’s confusing me with my sister Junie but that’s O.K. Now Dr. Fish examines my mouth & he’s fast & frowning & up close you can see the turtle-pouches around his eyes. This the man to see into your soul. Please rinse Quen-tin . Laying down one of the silver picks on a tray on a wad of cotton batting, the tip is shining with blood. There’s a sick excited sensation in my gut, I’m rinsing my mouth & can’t stop myself from seeing tendrils of blood in the water, I’m faint & excited & wish I could see Dr. Fish’s hands & that silver pick in Q__ P__’s mouth like on a video! Sorry if this hurts, Quen-tin , Dr. Fish says, it’s his mouth saying it, another pick in his hand, you haven’t been in for an exam in quite a while, eh?—almost three years. Afraid you’ve got several cavities & what might be the start of pyorrhea . Then the exam is over & Dr. Fish removes his gauze mask & rubber gloves & he’s smiling asking do I have any questions? any questions? & he’s ready to move on to the next patient in the next examining room & I’m clumsy-shaky rising from the chair & Dr. Fish is looking at me & I can’t think of any question to ask him & he’s turning to leave & I think of one.

“Do bones float?”

“Excuse me?”

“Bones. Do bones float?”

Dr. Fish stares at me & blinks once, twice. “What kind of bones?—human, or animal?”

“There’s a difference?”

“Well, there might be.” Dr. Fish shrugs & frowns backing off, I get the idea he’s stalling not knowing the answer. “It would depend, too, on whether the bones were heavy, or, you know, dried out—hollow & light. If so they would float, I’m sure.” There’s a pause & he adds, “You mean float in water?” & I nod sort of vague & he’s at the door, a little wave of his hand like a Thalidomide flipper, “Well, Quen-tin. See you next week?”