Steve Katz - Kissssss - A Miscellany

Her father noticed suddenly that Eukan was gone, and he looked to the gate, and took a few steps as if to go out himself. “Eukan,” he called, “son.” Then he gave up. “Oh, well. He'll be back,” Sitund said.

“I'm afraid he will,” Dojie said, and she looked into her father's face, into his eyes, and for the first time saw the sadness and confusion there.

On the following morning, when the queer pale tints of dawn raised their green veils from the western horizon and in all the tallest Mediroome trees the Crubeliwlis birds awoke to sound their yawning songs, Sitund and Yerml stole from their beds and crept through the hallway to their son's bedroom. Sitund concealed behind his back a net knotted of the strongest sisal hemp, reinforced with a finely drawn steel filament. Yerml held another end of the net with two small fingers of her left hand. She turned the knob carefully on Eukan's door, and pushed. The hinges squeaked as the door swung slowly open, and a body stirred in its bed, under the thin blanket. They paused, and listened to their son's breath, as it deepened again. They kissed lightly on the lips. “Regular, deep respiration. Nice,” said his mother, and they stopped at the foot of the bed. They paused again to synchronize their breathing with their son's. Yerml carefully rolled back the blanket. Eukan wore the pajamas she had bought him last November, and already he was outgrowing them. She went back to the foot of the bed and took up the net again, and with the father to the left, the mother to the right, as it has always been done within the collective memory of Monisantaca, they drew the net over the whole length of their son's body, and lifted his feet to tuck it under, and they wrapped it around the rest of his body, and under the pillow in which his face was buried. They allowed him the comfort of his pillow.

“Our son sleeps soundly,” said the mother. “It is perfect.”

“He sleeps four dreams of tomorrow, and three of yesterday,” said the father. He'd heard that said before, though he didn't know what it meant.

They pulled the net so it gathered tightly around the body of their son, but when he turned they saw they had made a serious mistake, for in the night their son and daughter had switched beds, and where they expected to see the face of Eukan Severe staring from the net, they actually saw the smiling face of Dojie Resoft, their daughter.

Sitund Monfahf rubbed his unshaven chin in confusion, and Yerml Perset folded and unfolded her hands, as if trying to wash them in the air.

“Father, Mother, what are you doing to me?” Dojie asked.

“Father? Mother?” Eukan bolted upright from a deep sleep he had finally entered after lying awake in his sister's bed for most of the night. The unfamiliar room startled him at first, but then he remembered everything, quickly dressed, slung a bag over his shoulder, and went out the door. He paused at a distance from the door to his room and saw his family in there, struggling to get Dojie out of the net. “Goodbye for now. Goodbye,” he said. His eyes brimmed with tears, as he rushed down the stairs to the street. He had taken his duffel the night before, so this morning he could be swift.

As soon as his father caught a glimpse of Eukan, he turned to pursue.

“Before you go anywhere, get me out of this net,” Dojie insisted.

“Why is your belly that color?” Yerml asked.

“And your back too?” Sitund pointed.

“I told you. Because this is the color that I am from now ’til forever,” she said, as she leapt free. “The exact color that you are not.”

Her progs turned and rushed out of the room to pursue their escaping son.

Eukan ran towards the center of town as streetlights shut off in the morning from block to block. As he trotted down the street towards the Kick, past the streetpickers scavenging cans and bottles in the morning, past streetwashers hosing down the grime, past delivery trucks tossing bundles of newspapers, he saw Ajieck in the square, talking with Ryga Yesbu, another of his gawks, and then Theki Dracanire joined him, and from behind the famous Shoe Riser, Tocst Nengl appeared. Almost all his gawks were there. He shouldn't stop, he thought. He should untie his boat and be on his way. But here was Ajieck. Was Ajieck coming with him, or not?

“Eukan, yeah, Eukan,” they all said, batting their fists and the backs of their wrists together in their salute.

“What's going on, so early?” Eukan asked.

“We're waiting for Bybob Lawrek,” Ajieck said.

“He's bringing the juice,” said Tocst.

“What juice?” Eukan asked.

Just then Bybob came running around the corner, pushing a wheelbarrow in front of himself, containing several jugs full of something. What? It smelled like lamp oil to Eukan.

“Okay, quick, let's get this done,” Ajieck said.

“Get what done?” Eukan asked.

“Someone has to do it,” Ajieck said. Eukan watched them take a jug in each hand, and run over to throw it onto the Shoe Riser. They quickly soaked the whole base and splashed it against the sides, then stepped back, all but Ajieck who lifted a box of long matches in the air. “Count down,” he said. Shopkeepers had started to unlock their gates, oblivious to what the boys were doing.

“Eight-and-a-half,” Eukan's gawks all shouted. “Seven-and-a-half… six-and-a-half… ” Eukan couldn't resist counting with them. “Three-and-a-half… two-and-a-half… one-and-a-half… ” Ajieck struck one of the matches, then lit all the others “Ignition… one half… ” Ajieck ran around the base of the Heap, tossing lit matches as he ran. “… minus one-half.”

Ajieck reached Eukan, and grabbed his arm. “Come on. You've got to get going.” He looked up the street. “I think I see your dad coming.” Flames crept slowly through the shoe heap as they ran out of the Kick. Eukan saw his father a long way up the street. The other gawks disappeared in different directions, while Eukan and Ajieck ran to the wharf. Ajieck stopped by the pile of his stuff he had removed from the boat.

“Get in. I'll push you off.”

“What is this?” Eukan asked.

“It's my stuff. You said you don't want me to come, so I'm… ”

Eukan started to toss Ajieck's gear back into the boat. He'd had other things on his mind, so he hadn't thought about this, but he knew deep down he didn't want to go anywhere without Ajieck.

“You're stealing my stuff,” Ajieck said.

“Shut up, and get your stuff in the boat,” Eukan shoved him.

Black smoke rose behind them.

“Eukan, Eukan Severe,” his father shouted, running down the wharf.

He and Ajieck tossed the rest of everything into the boat, and Eukan untied the bow, and they both jumped in as Sitund got closer. Behind his head, flames from the Kick started to lick the rising sun.

“Eukan Severe! What do you think you're doing?” Sitund dove and grabbed the rope at the stern. “Who gave you permission to do this?”

“We are your parents,” Yerml complained, as she arrived just behind her husband.

Eukan pulled a leather sheath from his duffel, and raised it above his head. It was the clenac jectorp , given him by his grandfather just before he died. “I unsheathe thee now,” Eukan declared, his voice cracking with adolescence for the last time. He pulled the saber from the sheath, jumped to the point of the stern and with one swing cut through the thick rope. His father's hand was nicked by the blade, and he brought the blood to his lips.

“Ahhh, my son,” cried the father.

All the sirens of Monisantaca were wailing, and Ajieck pulled out his trombone to join them with one long sliding note. Dojie arrived at the wharf, followed by many of her brideys, and all of their gawks lined up at the riverside now to wish Eukan and Ajieck safe travel.