Read Arcadio Online

Authors: William Goyen

Tags: #Arcadio

Arcadio (14 page)

BOOK: Arcadio
4.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

You talk too much Mescan, said Hombre. Like your mama. But the point I says is that God was ahelping prisoners to excape like he helped me from the Show through the
figura
of my
madre
Chupa—God knows she was no
angel
—and like he helped my brother Tomasso excape through the hole from the Missoura jail.
Comprendes amigo?
You understand,
Señor, Señorita?
God opens doors and drops down baskets. Helped another time St. Paul excape in a basket that they let down to the ground from a jail. To them in jail that asks him for some help, God gives a basket. What are you now, a preacher? Hombre asked me. You come here to preach to me? and to save my dick-poisoned soul like you callin it, to save my dick-sick soul like you callin it? Your soul's the prisoner of your sexual member, I said to him. Do you want to be a prisoner? My long sexual member as you are now callin it is the best thing I have, as you will remember. Johna said escuse me I'm going to get a shortdog of Red for Hombre over at Sweeny Mack's. Why don't you get two short-dogs—or hell three or four, I don care, I'm going to be drinkin em said Hombre. So you won't keep havin to go back and forth to Sweeny Mack's. Can't get three or four, Hombre, answered Johna, until I do some work, my God what do you think I am a machine? This is a Hell couple, I said to myself, you wan hear, I am down in Hell with these two. Hombre said he wanted to tell me of his earlier days and said guess any father wants to, to his son, to tell him about earlier days. To tell you of my earlier days, he says, when we was all in East Texas, at the peckerwood sawmill. Knew that there'd be a pecker in it, I thought. And I said to Hombre see there's already a pecker in it and you just started. ‘S always a pecker in it, said Hombre. When I was a boy in the sawmill town, I had the longest dick in the town and probly the county, was clear to me at an early age. Hombre I says you are talkin about your member when you said you were going to tell me of your earlier days—so that I could have some information, some
noticias
of who I come from—but I ought to have known that that was all that he could talk about, his long member. What else do you have to talk about, I asked. What else is there to talk about when you have on you a very long dick that has been in charge of your whole life since your earlier days. Tell it to the Marines, I mumbled. What? my father Hombre asked. I said are you going to give it to a museum when you die? or maybe to a Sideshow? Hombre said, Sugarboy would you scratch stump of my knee, almost itches me crazy. No, I said. Johna will when she comes back from Sweeny Mack's. Why is she so long? Hombre asked. She's working for shortdog money, I told him. What do you think she is, a
máquina
machine? I saw my father's
esclavitud
slavery and saw that God had sent me, Arcadio, his own child to come and free him from his terrible
esclavitud
. How was I to do it was my problem. And to free my mind of that memory—that
figura
that was scalded on my brain. I could hear Hombre say in my imagination when she comes back we can all three have it liked we used to. And sure enough I heard him growl in that dog's voice, remember when we all three had it? And before me come again the infernal
figura
. Oh God I said, Oh
Jesucristo
I said, take from me this infernal
figura
of the past. Twas in that house on the wharf over the river, you remember, growled that voice, there was the three of us. We both had it at the same time Johna and me. I heard my father's voice,
demonio
, growling like a dog
feroz
. You went crazy. Then we changed around and the woman part sat on me and leaned back to let Johna come at the man part, squattin. I was under, coming up from under, and Johna was squattin, straddlin. Then you just went crazy and took charge, like a bull. You had it
all
. We changed around so much, everbody going after everthing, we was all three just crazy people, couldn't finally tell who was who or who was where. It seemed like we was
all
everthing. Never known anything like it. And we went on and on, night after night day after day, the three of us, over and over and over,
fucking
. You was puredee gold, pussy of gold and dick of gold, why did you run away, you belonged to me. And now I got no legs and can't get up over anybody and live on Red and limp as a rope, why did you run away? Morphodite.

I do not know what salvation come into me to keep me from killing my father Hombre. I should have known that twas
La Biblia Blanca
of God and
Jesucristo
in there, in that white sweet book. What I did instead of killing my father for lowrating me and of bringing before me the infernal
figura
, what I did instead of killing him was to turn my back to him and squat down and say get on my back. He did not say a word. I said Hombre,
Padre, Papá
, get up on my back and let's go. He did not say a word and got up on my back. I helped him to excape. I walked out of town with my father on my back, and the knobs of his stump knees grinded into my ribs. Don't grab so hard I cain't breathe for God's sakes, I choked out, let loose of me a little, old fucker, old member-cursed Hombre, old prisoner,
Papá
. We was quiet a long time until sundown, going along. Sometimes I felt the old hands of my father curl up around my neck, soft. Maybe he does love me I thought; his touch had loving in it. And a reaching, and I felt some tenderness and some salvation. But I heard my father's voice say where is my Red? I did not answer. Where is my wine? he yelled. How do I know, I said, what am I supposed to do? Get Red, said Hombre, and he was achoking me. Well I'm not Johna, I said. We went on. Hombre begun to shake. I was walking like somebody with Saint Vituses Dance. Hombre was having wine fits. I'm going to fall I'm going to have the Red Fits, get wine get wine, Hombre shouted, I'm going to shake off, is it an earthquake, can't hold on, stop and put me down and get me some Red. I squatted and Hombre shook off me like a bug, he shook in the dirt and dust flew and he tore off his clothes and then he whirled naked around like some kind of a bug and his head was back and his eyes was aglaring and red fume fuming out of iz mouth. My God his very breath is wine fume, I said to myself, arms thrashing wild and the dust comin up red and his long terrible member whipping up the dust and whipping at Hombre. I couldn't get near him this infernal
máquina
whirling and the great member whipping in the red dust. And he suddenly stopped still in the red dust. Hombre! I called. Hombre! He was dead in the dust, covered with red dust, member like a tail, he was piece of the devil looked like, whipped to death in the dirt by his infernal member.

I carried this piece of a red devil that did not seem no longer the body of a man, my father, till I found a well with a bucket hanging, and I dipped up wellwater and washed the body of my quietened father washed away the red fume with buckets of wellwater. But I said to myself as I was awashin Hombre, no wellwater in this world can wash away that fume on his soul only the water of
Jesucristo
can wash that fume away wash him
Jesucristo
wash my father clean. I buried this piece of my father in a graveyard I found up a ways on the road, found a big concrete tomb that its iron doors was open, must have been an earthquake come and burst open the iron doors
come dice la Biblia
, as the Bible says. On the tomb was written the big name
HORK
which is a name very hard for a Mescan to say, Hork, but that was the name; and then the names Johanna, Johan, Linda Sue. Johanna Hork my God. I laid my father Hombre on a shelf in this concrete tomb and when I come out I saw twas an angel settin on the rooftop, an angel of stone, looked green in the light of the moon, a green angel over Hombre my father, the color of my mother Chupa's dress that night that I saw her onct more for a little while and I said to this green angel if you're Chupa I left your devil husband with's quietened member in the concrete room under you, ‘s member can't get you anymore cain't get him anymore what is this life green angel what is this world what is a mother what is a father?

At the gate to the graveyard was Johna waiting for me. Is he dead, she asked me. And dead I said. Thank God, Johna said, now I can rest. Where have you come from how did you know? I followed you, Johna said, with Hombre on your back, where else was I to go, please let me go with you. We went on, me and this first woman, woman that took me down with her long ago in the
China Boy
. I guess I had this respect for her, a man never forgets the first going down. I could not at that first time understand the softness and the soft deepness, twas without a bottom no end to it; and the pain of it, am I hurting you I asked, this must hurt you. Baby, Johna said. And I never knew something like this. So you understand
compadre, Oyente
, you wan hear. Johna was
especiál
and even now something to be thought about, you wan hear. We went on. In a little ways farther we slept under a shed, twas a tomato shed, and when we woke up Johna was next to me and I felt warm in the dark her body was remembered to me as the early soft deep one of the
China Boy
and Johna says do you want some more of it? Of what, I says. Of what took you down for the first time at the
China Boy
. You mean at Shuang Boy's? I says. Yes Johna said, do you want to have it again, years later, hair of the dog of long ago. Old dog, I says. You and Hombre was the only ones I ever felt it with. Do you? she asked me. Do you, I said, want to have it again, some more of it, of what took you down for the first time, you was the first to have it from me back in Shuang Boy's. I don know, you wan hear, but I felt a wanting for old Johna and didn't even feel that I had to ask
Jesucristo
about it then and didn't even have the awful
vision
of the infernal
figura
now because of the third one of the
figura
my father Hombre was dead and his member put to rest, quietened by beating him down in the dust, his member had finally whipped him down in the red fume dust and he was laid up on a shelf in a concrete tomb of Hork with a stone green angel on the top, and there in the shed, twas a tomato shed, we come together, it had been so long but I just all unfolded and twas warm, not bad, bringing old
memorias
and seems to me now twas right for me to come back so long later to that first woman, you wan hear, twas the end woman, twas the first and last, for me twas the
adiós
piece, and not bad, you wan hear, an old
máquina
still doing pretty good work.
Máquina
, I said, has held up pretty good.
Máquina
, what is that, asked Johna. Like a machine, something that works good. Well it's not a machine but it works good, said Johna. That's what I'm saying, I says. I did it, is all I know, says she. Like a lock, I said, like a lock takes and holds a key. I never felt much, you and Hombre was the only ones I ever felt it with, said Johna. You was just a more or less
más o menos máquina
, I says, for all those others. For the Red, said Johna, to get the Red for Hombre.

For the wine for Hombre, said she hid behind the factory on the bayou at lunchtime and took the men quick for a quarter. Back in the back, she told me, in the dark, the men from the factory got what they had to have, said. Go for a few days and then have to have it again. Tis a good business, can always count on it, can always count on men having to have it every few days, or for some every day. Like a
máquina
, I said. Guess everthing's got a
máquina
machine in it except God and
Jesucristo
. Whenever Johna went there to the factory, back in the back, no matter what time, day shift or night shift, when the wine money was needed, back in the back she would wait and always somebody would come, they would know she was there, they had to have it every few days, some of em every day. Men got to have it, said Johna. I did it is all I know. And then went with the money—proceeds is the
gringo
word, I says—and then went with the proceeds to Sweeny Mack's for the Red. For Hombre. Sometimes Sweeny Mack bought me the wine. How's that? I asked. With what I give him, Johna said. Oh I see, I said. Twas a direct change of the
máquina
for the wine. No money changed hands, she said. Why didn't you just stay at Sweeny Mack's and make the eschange I asked Johna, woulda been simpler wouldn't it, all in one place. Sweeny Mack, said Johna, liked to change money for what he got. Sweeny Mack wanted to see money. Didn't want to take the price of a shortdog of wine out in pussy.
Máquina
I said. I did it is all I know, said Johna. You could see that Johna didn't have many espressions.

And then I said Johna I got to go on, wherever I go you can't go with me. Where is that Johna said. I got to go on, I said. All right, go on, said Johna, but I hope you will remember me. I will, I says, you are the first one and the last. We had some times, said Johna. We had some times, said Johna, including the last one, Johna said; and I went on.

I felt so lonesome, now,
Señor, Señorita
, more lonesome than ever I have felt, ever in all my life of lonesomeness. Maybe because I had given the last of it to somebody, maybe because I had
finalmente
found my father, I don know. I felt many deep things as I went on,
Señor, Señorita
. I saw sights I wish I could sing to you, sometimes I felt my
mejicanismo
passing from me, I felt
everbody
, that I was
todo, all
, I felt great thoughts of the world, you wan hear? people fed me by the side of roads, I slept back in the fields and under the lonesome trees, I washed in rivers where there was some with water in em, and sometimes I walked all day in the dry rut of a river that used to be and felt the ghost of the waters sometimes could smell the vanished waters, that river-smell, nothing like a river's smell, I have many a
memoria
of a river, of the
presencia
presence of it in some nighttimes that I remember, sleeping by a river and the great
fuerza
of it, its force moving through the ground and the river smell guess I am part river,
Señor, Señorita, Corazón
, you wan hear. And great trees, holding deep in the ground I knew whole places of great trees, and the great
fuerza
of woods and great trees in ‘em and their leaves, I love leaves, guess I am part tree, you wan hear? And I was movin along, I went on.

BOOK: Arcadio
4.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Pretenders by Lisi Harrison
That One Time by Marian Tee
A Different Game by Sylvia Olsen
Mambo in Chinatown by Jean Kwok
Dispatches by Michael Herr
The Clone Apocalypse by Kent, Steven L.
The End of Innocence by Allegra Jordan
Silent on the Moor by Deanna Raybourn
Quarterdeck by Julian Stockwin