Rawi Hage - Carnival

And so the doctor read:

A Poem Some People Will Have to Understand

by Amiri Baraka,

formerly known as LeRoi Jones.

Dull unwashed windows of eyes. .

I went down to the river’s edge. I threw a few rocks at the devils in the water and I smoked and looked at the bridge going across, then I lit a second cigarette into the fog. In cities it is useless to look at the stars or to describe them, worship them, or seek direction from them. When lost, one should follow the tracks of the camels. I watched the car lights passing and vanishing overhead, and I imagined my mother swinging off the bridge and my father, the camel lover, going in circles, throwing rocks, and reciting prayers beneath the fullness of the moon.

I walked back. I didn’t see the psychiatrist, but Otto was leaning against the door smoking.

Where is he? I asked.

He’s gone, Otto said. He took a walk. Here, I got you the fare, I made him pay. And don’t worry, I stood in front of the licence plate when he got out and he didn’t see a thing.

We drove towards the city. Otto pulled out a bottle of bourbon and drank from it. He offered it to me and I took a short sip.

Fly, my man, Otto said, as he smoked and drank, let’s call this night “The Revenge of the Fool.” He trembled, Doctor Evil trembled. . I made him read and he was stuttering, there was fear in his eyes. I made him repeat it all about six times. . I made him read about the lives of prostitutes, the religious right’s policies and their effects on poor neighbourhoods. . the guy started to beg me not to kill him. . shoved the gun in his mouth and I thought, Now, Doctor, how does it feel? For months you shoved all kinds of pills into me. . When I pulled the gun out of his mouth, he asked me if he should say his prayers. . I said no, not yet; read. . He was uncomfortable reading about prostitutes. . There is a war out there, and believe me, Fly, it was never really between Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Crusaders, and Confucius. The final battle is between those who love, respect, and liberate the body and those who hate it, Fly. Pull up here. I am due for a drink. Do you want to come and check out the Carnival crowd? I say let’s celebrate a small victory for the oppressed, the clown said, and looked euphoric and already drunk.

Not tonight, I said. I need to cover the day’s rental and fill up the car. It is the season to make good in this town.

Sure, Fly, making a living is all right, Otto said, as he slowly got out of the car.

Otto, I called to him, it might be a good idea to rest for a while. You always have a place. Just come by, or stay.

It is a fight, Fly, it will always be, but remember that you are my brother and I love you.

MIME

AFTER MY SHIFT I waited for Zainab, but she didn’t come down. I hadn’t seen her for a few days. I knocked at her door. She opened it halfway and said, Not now, Fly. I have somebody here. Just go. Go drive or something.

But wait, Zainab said. A woman knocked on your door last night. She was crying and she looked pretty upset. She mentioned something about a delivery or a necklace.

Mary, I said. It must have been Mary.

Okay, so go to Mary, said Zainab, and she shut the door in my face.

I drove to Mary’s new place; she had moved into an apartment next to the market. She wasn’t home. I waited for a few hours but she still didn’t arrive.

In front of her place was a bar with its door open. I sat in my car and watched the back of a man hunched towards a poker machine. He smoked against a screen of vanishing hearts, passing spades, rolling fruit. The neighbourhood was infested with gambling dens, pawnshops, rundown laundromats, and vicious dogs. But the Carnival also reaches that dodgy side of the downtown, and in the afternoons, the neighbourhood people start to play music on the street, and they come out to drink and dance. Carnivals also belong to the marketplaces and the poor.

After a while I went to a pay phone and called Otto, but no one answered.

I went back to my car and waited for Mary. Two customers asked to hire my services. The first was a mime who pointed at the passenger seat next to me. I shook my head and, with my hands, I signalled to him that I was off-duty. When he still insisted, I locked the passenger door and frowned at him. He gave me the finger. I was speechless.

But the second customer got right into the back seat. I told him that I was not in service. Your top light is on, he said, so that means you must be working. I hit the button and turned off my lantern and said, Okay, not anymore. But the law dictates that you should take me, the man said. You can’t refuse a customer once he is inside your car.

Well, yes, I can refuse a customer. As a matter of fact, I do it all the time.

I’ll take down your licence number, he said.

Fine. Do whatever you like, but leave my car.

Sure enough, a few days later the taxi inspector came looking for me. She found me at Café Bolero: she had spotted my cab in the parking lot. Some of the drivers covered their thighs with their napkins and plates when she came in. There was an atmosphere of embarrassment and panic. She asked for me by name and then walked towards me.

Do you have your licence on you? she asked.

Can’t this pleasurable encounter wait? I said. I am eating.

There is a complaint against you.

What is it about?

Refusal to take a customer while your dome light was on. The man you refused to take the other day was an employee of the transit authority, and he filed a complaint against you at the taxi commission.

Okay, so now I have to spread my thighs and let him molest me?

Everyone in the café started to laugh in disbelief. All those numbers went under the table, spitting food and hiding their faces. Some ran to the bathroom and some closed their eyes and shook their heads.

I can revoke your licence right now.

Without a hearing? I said.

Yes.

Based on what, sweetheart?

Don’t call me sweetheart.

Officer?

Let’s go to your car.

What a femme fatale, I whispered to myself.

You said something.

No, I was just remembering the time when I was a child in the circus and the lady with the whip told the monkey man to jump but then. .

She made me open the trunk and the glove compartment. Checked the lights and did the rest of her little routine.

Now drive.

Where to?

Drive. I just want to see if your car is making any noises.

I drove straight to a back alley and parked there and opened my thighs wide and leaned my head back and closed my eyes in submission. Here, I thought, I am being a good citizen and participating in the government census. Indeed, information and the gathering of information are essential to every state before they fuck over another nation or drive their own citizens into poverty and despair. The measure and length and diameter of every organism should be assessed before one exercises indulgence, war, or occupation.

She molested me, touching my thighs, and then she called me a faggot for no reason, or for a reason, and told me to drive her back to her car.

She left and I entered the restaurant, walking with the bowed legs of a cowboy just off his horse. The piano started to play, the chariot drivers started shooting their guns into the air, and all the dancers danced and the crowd laughed and the cowboy bought drinks for everyone and shot more bullets into the sky in celebration of the loss of his virginity to an officer of the state.

HUSBAND

A FEW DAYS later I went back to Mary’s new neighbourhood and I saw her just as she was about to enter her building. I ran across the street. I grabbed her hand and she embraced me and started to laugh. She seemed unusually euphoric and talkative. And then her mood changed and she said, I keep crying all night. And the books you gave me were all so harsh and sad. I called my husband. Then I told him that I slept with you. He called me a slut. I am not going back, Fly. I asked him to pack some of my books and leave them at the door. I need you to pick them up from the house. He’ll be there. Could you do that for me? I can’t go there. . I haven’t stopped crying. Do you remember where the house is? It’s a bit far. I’m sorry but I think of you as a friend. . I tried to go for a walk today but all those Carnival people in their masks and disguises made me scared. I had to run home. I locked the door. I keep imagining them here in my room. Could you please do me this favour? Please. And I promised to give him back a necklace. It was his grandmother’s. He wants it back. Could you take it to him? Here. I trust you with it. Sorry, I’m crying. . I can’t stop crying. . He would have brought the books himself, but his car is in the shop, he said. I think he’s lying. He is leaving the country, he said. He quit his job, he’s selling the house. . I urge you to do this for me, Fly. . I am not well. And she started to cry again.