Russell Banks - Outer Banks

— What we really want is white wimmen, the Indian added.

— Oh, Egress said. — Mind if I tag along?

— Not at all, please do, said the Indian.

10.

One thing about Indians attracted Egress more than any other: They were in touch with their anger. He used to talk about his attraction with his analyst. — They’re so damned self- entitled ! he would exclaim. — You can take everything away from them, their land, their history, their whole culture, for god’s sake, and they still come back at you with that wonderful drunken Indian thing! It’s incredible!

And sure enough, when they got to the Tam, all the Indians started ordering double boilermakers three at a time, and in fifteen minutes they were fighting with each other and anyone else who’d hung around. They broke all the furniture and glass in the place and, with Egress joining in, paid for the damage and moved on to the next place, a hotel bar called Lulu’s, where, Egress had assured them, there would be “plenty white wimmen.”

It was at Lulu’s that Egress told the head Indian, whose name was Horse, about the plan he had received from the ghost on the parapet. Horse thought it ridiculous. — You white-eyes really go for that apocalyptic crap, don’t you?

11.

— I’ll tell you the one thing you white-eyes can’t seem to learn from us, no matter how well-intentioned, disciplined, and sensitive you are. It’s the distinction between the impulse to anger and the impulse to destroy. Too bad. Some of you make pretty good drunks, and except for that destruction impulse, your suicides are downright attractive, Horse said.

Egress unfortunately didn’t hear him. He was eating his glass, and all he could hear was the snap and crunch of a mouthful of shards.

— For example, Horse went on, — an Indian would never break his glass with his mouth, because, for an Indian, the impulse would never be to destroy, not the glass and certainly not his mouth. Rather, the impulse would be to hurl the glass, to create a missile, and if, as a result, the glass were shattered, it would not matter, for it would already have been converted, by anger, into something else. To illustrate his point, Horse threw his own glass into the mirror over the bar and created a beautiful silver explosion. — Intentionality is everything, he said. — Everything.

12.

Egress fell off his chair, gagging and choking on his own blood. He had coughed unexpectedly and had torn open his throat with a sliver of glass, and in a short time he had strangled. The white people in the room were horrified and, looking for officials, ran out of the bar into the streets. The Indians knew it was an accident, so they continued to drink and brawl. They only got to town once a month and they wanted to make the most of it. They had liked young Egress, though, and, to honor that fact, they played “The Ballad of the Green Man” on the jukebox over and over, all night long, until dawn, when Horse hallucinated and thought the jukebox was a bear and attacked it with his hatchet. He made a beautiful robe of the skin and wore it proudly for the rest of his days.

1.

The Green Man was not the real name of the Youth in the Green Suit. Prince Egress had first called him that, rather publicly, and consequently most people took it to be his real name. But, as one may recall, the truth is that he had many names, none of them legal. He was, in all respects, an alias, a true underground man. It’s not even clear that he was a man; he may have been a woman, as well. Thus he was the definitive guerrilla, a person with absolutely no past.

All this, but nothing more than this, was known to the king within hours of the youth’s arrival in court and his presentation there of his odd request, or, as some said, his demand. The king, after the youth had spoken, had leaned over to his chief of intelligence, the well-known Grand Inquisitor, and had said to him, — I want that kid’s past on my desk this afternoon!

But all he got was an empty manila envelope.

— All right, the king had said, after his rage had fled, — then watch him. The bastard’s got to have a present !

2.

The youth is extremely attractive, to men as to women, although it’s not exactly sexual. They stare at him unabashedly wherever he goes. Of medium height and build, he moves with extraordinary grace and purposefulness and seems thus to be both a taller and a stronger person than he probably is. His “costume,” upon close examination, turns out to be hand-tailored, somewhat conservatively designed, of a lightweight, finely woven fabric imported either from the Middle East or North Africa, possibly from Greece. The youth himself, however, is a Nordic type. The color of his suit is forest green and is not “slick” or “shiny,” as was thought, a mere illusion caused by the way in which the finely woven cloth reflects light. The general impression given to strangers by the youth is that of a person with immense, unquestioned authority. It is not yet clear, however, what exactly his authority is over, for he seems to disdain exerting it.

3.

After completing his address to the king, immediately the youth, hereinafter referred to as the Subject, departs from the court. The crowd eagerly backs off to make way for him. Outside, in the great yard, he is seen talking with Genghis, the Royal Dwarf. A fragment of their conversation luckily is overheard and taken down:

SUBJECT: You’re treated kindly ?

GENGHIS: Ya, except for all da time ven dey are laffink at me.

SUBJECT: They think you are funny, then?

GENGHIS: Ya! Dey like da vey I am so short in da body und so big in da head. I tink it’s kinda fonny myself!

SUBJECT: It must be painful for you, to be treated as other than human.

GENGHIS: It’s a job. I got a family.

SUBJECT: Personally, I think you’re disgusting. You should try telling jokes. Make them laugh at your jokes.

At this point, the Subject departs from the dwarf, heading downtown.

4.

At a busy, downtown intersection, the Subject seems bewildered, as if he is not familiar with the plan of the city. He notices an adolescent girl standing near him, waiting for the light to change. She is wearing a short red skirt, a football player’s sweater many sizes too large for her with a huge, red A sewn onto the front, and saddleshoes. She is a schoolgirl.

— Can you tell me where the gymnasium is located? the Subject asks her.

— Hi! she replies. — I’m 37-24-37! Terrific, huh?

— I’m trying to locate the gymnasium. I want to see the famous Prince Orgone run and jump and throw.

— Jeepers, my daddy says I’ve got the body of Raquel Welch, the personality of Marie Wilson, and the brains of a quail! I love the prince! I’ve got all his records! Do you know the prince? Jessum, how em-barrassing! I’m 34-27-34! I mean, 37-24-37! How em-barrassing! I can’t even remember my own name!

— Are you all right? he asks.

— I’m dying! she cries, and noticing the light has turned green, she scampers across the street, scattering books and papers behind her as she runs. The Subject speaks to no one else and succeeds in getting to the gymnasium on his own.

5.

The Subject wears his hair in current fashion. He has little or no facial hair and no distinguishing facial marks, scars, moles, warts, or tattoos. He is quite harmless-looking. Except for his obvious intensity and the fact that none of his graces appear to have been learned (the final grace), he looks like a young man or woman in the diplomatic service. Thus, even though he does not present the proper identification papers, he is waved into the gymnasium area by the guard, is issued a “Distinguished Visitor” pass, and is given the run of the place.