William Vollmann - The Royal Family

I wish I could just help her a little more, Tyler whispered.

Why, June, you look ravishing tonight, said Mrs. Myers.

Thank you, my dear, Mrs. Tyler said.

She looks awful, said Mrs. Myers out of the side of her mouth.

Why, what’s wrong? said Tyler.

Can’t you see? Just look at her face!

On the television, Brady was saying to an interviewer: In every province of our Invisible Empire there’s one Great Titan and seven Furies, and if you don’t even know that much…

Where’s Mrs. King today? said Tyler.

You mean you didn’t hear? said Mrs. Myers delightedly.

I just swear by that Miramar cream, Mrs. Simms was saying. It’s the newest thing. When you put it on your face, you can feel it burn. I guess it actually dissolves that top layer of skin.

No, I didn’t, said Tyler.

You didn’t what, dear?

I didn’t hear how Mrs. King met her doom.

Well, Henry, she—

It was a double mastectomy, Henry, so could you please be more sensitive?

I guess I could try.

Getting back to that Miramar cream…

So it’s good for wrinkles? inquired Mrs. Myers with intense interest.

It’s the best. It’s an anti-ageing cream, really. It actually dissolves all your wrinkles.

She should talk! whispered Mrs. Myers. Just look at the old bag!

Sighing, Tyler stepped in between them. — How much does it cost, Mrs. Simms?

Well, it’s three hundred dollars for two months’ worth. It’s three bottles, one red, one silver and one black.

And you have to use them all? Mrs. Myers put in. I really don’t see why you should have to use them all.

First you’re supposed to apply the black. If you don’t, there’s no guarantee. That one burns the most. Then you scrub, rinse and dollop on the silver. You really have to use a lot of silver. I always run out of that one first. Then you wait one minute and go for the red. You know how I remember all that? Because black, silver and red were my high school football team’s colors.

Well, isn’t that an interesting coincidence? sighed Mrs. Tyler.

Yes it is. It truly is. And the supply lasts me about two months. As I said, it’s three hundred dollars. But that’s only if you have a coupon…

Almost beside himself with boredom, anxiety and distress, Tyler took Mrs. Myers back into the kitchen and seized her hand.

You creature! laughed Mrs. Myers roughly. You just like the holding hands!

And the kissing.

And the rubbing.

And everything after that, he sunnily replied, thinking: Why, Stella Myers, you don’t know what to do with your life, either. (What do I want to do with the rest of my life? Get to a point where I can stop asking that question. But I actually know. I want to be with my Queen.)

You creature, she laughed. I already called you a creature. Stop that!

From the living room, Mrs. Simms peered in at them.

Tyler smiled blandly.

Stop putting your hand on women’s butts! Mrs. Myers said loudly.

Where’s Henry? called Mrs. Tyler.

Mrs. Simms glared at Tyler.

I know I shouldn’t, said Tyler thoughtfully, but it just feels so good.

Suddenly, Mrs. Myers laughed and squeezed his hand.

Henry, his mother whispered as he was leaving, it would be such a waste to me if you just holed up and—

That’s nice of you to say, Mom.

How’s business?

Oh, not so good. But I—

There’s just so much more to you than that.

Than what? I’ve got to go, Mom. Say hello to John for me…

What size is she? said the saleslady.

Eighty-five slash S, said Tyler, believing the Queen to be the same size as Irene.

That’s not an American size. That’s a foreign size. Oh, okay. I know. And would you like a panty with that?

Oh, I suppose.

With the garter? I recommend the garter.

That’s extra, I take it.

Yes it is, sir.

You know what a Marxist would say about that?

Excuse me, sir?

He’d say, that’s no accident.

Sir, do you want the garter or don’t you?

She’s just like Domino, he told himself. Finally he nodded, anxious that he might not have enough cash.

And you’ll want a robe with that, too, won’t you?

No, I don’t believe I do.

She might be disappointed, the woman insinuated in a faraway childlike voice. It’s really not much of a gift, what’s in this cute little bag so far.

Yeah, he said, paying in five dollar bills. I’m so sorry you’re disappointed.

A lady from a personnel office called and wanted him to screen somebody before she fired him. She was hoping to find evidence of illegal drug use. She wanted Tyler to obtain his medical record.

And we need a hard copy for verification purposes, the lady said.

Tyler rubbed his eyes, gazing out at the fog, cleared his throat, and said: My assumption would be, if I’m looking up medical information, I’m picking it up off insurance company databases. So I won’t be able to get original hard copy, ma’am. But I can print out whatever I catch, if that makes you feel better.

It just has to be hard copy. That’s all. That’s our policy.

Sure. Do you have his social?

His what?

His social disease, ma’am.

Excuse me?

His social security number.

I thought you could obtain all that information, the lady said.

Oh, I can, but I’m trying to save you money. It’ll be one less computer search for you, you see.

Well, isn’t it illegal for me to give out a social security number?

Ma’am, it’s just as illegal for me to snoop in somebody’s medical records. And it’s never a good idea to talk about illegal things on the telephone, get it? Are you tape recording this call?

That’s irrelevant.

Oh, it is, huh? I get it.

Mr. Tyler, I’m not sure I like the direction this conversation is taking.

Aren’t you ashamed? he said. Don’t you feel just the littlest bit hypocritical?

I beg your pardon! the lady said coldly.

You want me to do your dirty work and incur the risk and you won’t even tell me whether you tape record your phone calls. You’re like some john in the Tenderloin wanting to fuck a desperate whore up her bleeding ass and not even use a rubber…

I was referred to you, Mr. Tyler. I can see now that the referral was a mistake. Goodbye.

We aim to please, he said, but she’d already hung up.

Danny Smooth got a collect call from Strawberry, said the Queen. Domino, Henry, go an’ get Justin from the hospital They won’t let him out unless he gets a ride home. Strawberry she stayin’ down there with him an’ she wanna come home now, too…

Aw, come on, Maj, whined the blonde. Tomorrow’s my thirty-second birthday and I was already celebrating. That’s not a party kind of thing to do.

Justin he ain’t been havin’ no party either, girl, said the Queen sharply. Now go get him.

Maj, I—

Oh, quit pissin’ in my ear and tellin’ me it’s rainin’, said the Queen.

And so they drove to San Francisco General Hospital where the tall man shared a room with an O.G.* who’d been shot in the stomach. The O.G. was saying: So anytime you wanna split on that bitch an’ come join my nation, I’ll bring you right in, know what I’m sayin’?

Hey, I appreciate that, the tall man said.

I mean, what you got right now? You got this scuzzy white bitch over there, an’ I bet you don’t even got no car. Don’t you want a real lady an’ a car? Hey, listen up, Justin. Send the white bitch outside. Send her out. Go on, bitch, get the fuck out of this black man’s room.