William Vollmann - The Royal Family

Not only that.

Not only what?

It wasn’t just that she was a prostitute. Henry, are you listening to me?

Yeah.

Also because she was His servant, you see. Because she washed His feet with her hair. And when the Queen spits in your mouth, she’s giving you a chance to be elevated—

Well, Domino never swallows, said Tyler. She told me for her it’s the same as a blow job. She just tucks it under her tongue and then spits it out when she can.

Well, then, she can’t be elevated, now, can she, asshole? said Smooth.

And do you admire Domino?

Oh, she and I go pretty far back, said Smooth. I’d have to say I — well, I—

They were on Powell Street. A little girl with tight shimmery golden laces on her sneakers took lipstick from the duty free bag and opened it, at which her mother nodded and lovingly explained.

I’d like to get into that, Smooth said.

I bet you would, said Tyler.

Ah, but it would be as illegal as a bail bondsman’s referral to any particular lawyer. You like illegal candy, don’t you, Henry?

I’m sick of your insinuations. Can’t you lay off for five minutes?

You’re being rude to me. And, you know, all this will end. Right now she’s your shield, but once she’s gone, you know what’s going to happen, pal? Irene will come right back and haunt you. No matter where you run, she’ll spot that Mark of Cain. Don’t worry; she won’t kill you, because God prohibited that. She’ll just torture you. She’ll say: You were supposed to be my keeper and you—

Mike Hernandez in Vice gave him the telephone number of a retired undercover cop named Morena who might know something about Brady. As soon as Tyler mentioned the name, Morena perked up. — Sure, he said. Don’t you remember that cop who got shot? Officer Marcus, his name was. One of his last duties was to work surveillance on Brady’s house. Who knows what he saw and what he knew? He drove to a big mall, I think maybe it was Stonestown. And the mall was closed. There was an eyewitness who saw something. I think his name was, oh, fuck, I forget the chump’s name.

Shot, huh? said Tyler.

Right in the everlovin’ head.

I get it. It’s starting to come back to me. Now wasn’t that the case where the cops themselves wanted to close it down?

Yeah. Marcus’s partner was the shill. He said: I disagreed with what my partner did. He shouldn’t have been in the parking lot of that mall.

What did he mean by that?

Nobody knows. He met with Internal Affairs and after that he refused to say anything.

So you think Brady had him bumped off?

Yeah, although I can’t prove it.

Well, well. So that’s our Jonas.

Jonas? Whaddya mean? This is the great Tyrone Brady I’m talkin’ about. You know, the guy Brady Alley’s named after. Patron of the arts. Jonas Brady now, I know who you mean but I’m not talkin’ about him. I got no beef with Jonas Brady. He’s a law and order guy.

In a crack-smoky room of another hotel which would soon burn down, the tall man was helping moaning Strawberry shoot herself up in her tired veins while Domino was insisting to the Queen: I said that’s not mine but the cop said right. I had a warrant outstanding so they took me in. So I was at Eight-Fifty Bryant and I was wearing my black and white polka-dot coveralls. You know, since I’m Domino I always try to look like my name. It’s brand recognition, see what I’m saying? And they wouldn’t give me my fucking overalls back. And they—

But I got you out, Domino, didn’t I? I got five hundred dollars together and your pal Danny Smooth posted your bail.

What the fuck do I care about that pervert? Domino shouted. And if you’re trying to make me feel guilty you can just throw me back in the hole, so help me!

Domino, I love you, said the Queen. I’m always looking out for you. You know that. And you love me? You love your Queen?

Yes, Maj, said the girl sullenly. Of course I do. You know that.

Allrightie. What is it then, child, you want your overalls back? They should have given ’em back to you when they checked you out. Ain’t those your street clothes? And what about that silver cocktail dress you got?

A long tap on the door, then two shorts, then another long.

The Queen smiled.

Who the fuck’s that? said Domino.

You know who it is, said the tall man, looking over his shoulder, so give her some space!

Oh, said Domino, making chewing-gum noises. You going to fuck Henry again tonight?

I was fixing to, yes, said the Queen, looking her in the eye. You got a problem with that?

It’s none of my business really.

That’s right, said the tall man, so shut the fuck up!

Hey, Maj, when the shit comes down, are you gonna skip with Henry and leave us all to face the music? I heard a couple girls saying that.

Let him in, would you, Justin?

Hold it right there in the vein until I get back. That’s right. I said hold it there, bitch. Oh, Strawberry, you’re such a goddamn pretty little bitch. Don’t come on like some fancy girl.

Does the Queen like to drink dark coffee? a panhandler whispered from the side of his mouth.

Fuck cappuccino! cried Chocolate, drunk and high. She’s got more than mocha’s got to offer.

Gimme a kiss, Chocolate.

I’m glad I’m not barbeque, the whore laughed, kissing him. I saw how messy you are when you eat barbeque. If I’d be barbeque I’d be all over your face.

Hey, Chocolate, somebody told me you also go by the name Brenda. Is that true?

Don’t do that to me, said the whore, her eyes narrowing, her face tensing into chocolate-colored steel.

Brenda, where’s the Queen?

Fuck off! the whore screamed in terror, trying to run away, but this time the vig grabbed her and held her and pulled slowly in toward his face to whisper: You’d better think about it, Brenda Wiley. Because one of these days I’m going to get you…

Tyler, sitting beside Dan Smooth in a taxicab watching the very slow rotation of a heavy rubber tire on a trailer which then suddenly shot by, exposing the man who stood with folded arms on the corner of Sixteenth Street by the Esta Noche bar, through whose doorway he could see winking strings of what appeared to be glowing and crystallized piss, saw behind Mr. Folded Arms a man in a baseball cap whose heraldic device consisted of a red light bulb with a slash through it, and then the legend, tricked out in white letters: BRADY’S BOYS. — Look at that vig, he muttered.

They’re all right, man, the cab driver said. They’re doing the good thing to help the people. But Brady kind of a character. Like you know he made some allegation the Queen tried to ex him.* Well, that never come out positive. Police can’t find no wrongdoing on the part of the Queen.

You like the Queen, don’t you? said Tyler.

Well, sir, I never come right out and say that, but her girls help pay my rent, man, and like they’re always big tippers; they smile at me, you know…

Perfect praise from the mouths of babes, said Dan Smooth out of the side of his mouth.

Take a valium, Dan.

But police can’t find no wrongdoing on the part of the Queen, the cab driver repeated. Since then I lose my respect for Brady.

The light changed at last. The driver accelerated. They went to the Tenderloin.

Wait here, said Smooth when they got to the parking garage. He ran inside and came out with a dirty envelope. — All right, he said. Now let’s go to the Little Angels Foundation on Broadway. — I want to pick up some medication for Sapphire, he explained.