Mai at the Predators' Ball (6 page)

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Authors: Marie-Claire Blais

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brushing one another, Yinn had already forgotten about Petites Cendres and was thinking about his girls, Cobra, Robbie, Santa Fe, and a few he didn’t know emerging from the backstage passageway beneath plumes and pendants, Yinn spoke easily to them and got one of the boys to get some cigarettes from the bar as well as his cocktail, something pink smothered in ice, and in a few steps Robbie had done that by going first down then up the wooden steps again under posters that advertised the show, Cobra said Yinn needs to have the queen knocked out of her, what is it you want now, I thought you said you were quitting he said with mocking laughter, they all loved one another thought Petites Cendres, with a kind of explosive, cacophonous tenderness, often using street-kid words and gestures, and Petites Cendres thought about his customer who turned out to be not only a stranger but brutal too, Yinn’s art was to create a love without attachments, that way he seemed to love Robbie, Cobra, and Santa Fe, as well as some new kid making his entrance from stage left, all equally, this is Robert the Martiniquan Cobra said, can he come work here, he was brushing his long black hair down over his shoulders, Yinn said to the newcomer come over here and take off those undershorts so I can see what you’re made of, his tone was one of strict competency, not lasciviousness as Petites Cendres thought, and how on earth could he be so thoroughly professional yet indifferent, after all, Robert’s athletic beauty was something to contemplate, Yinn’s skilled, graceful hands touching the boy’s buttocks, yes that’s good he said, but for Decadent Fridays you’re going to have to get your package out front, so shake it a bit, then I can see how you’ll dance naked, yes nice, you’re going to make some of them jealous, you can’t hide such abundance under some old pair of green shorts just sagging round your thighs like that, you’re definitely going to win the Decadent Friday manhood contest starting tonight, no need for false modesty, leave that to the older guys, eh, what do you say Cobra, he’s too shy isn’t he, no point being timid when you’ve got that on you, hang around for a while, I’ll help you shake off that habit of yours, you’re a bit like one of those horses that need stroking, no need to rear up, you’ll learn, you’re young yet, Petites Cendres watched Yinn and saw his lavish seduction of total strangers like Robert who’d be trained for erotic shows, especially Decadent Fridays where the younger ones discovered the glorious vitality of their organs during the midnight dance, none of that daytime camouflage for them thank you, training Robert’s body with his skilled fingers and hands which also knew how to be tender, Yinn had never stopped overflowing with the serene sensuality he’d imbued in Jason, sensuality to appease an indefatigable love, the art of love he felt free to spread over any and all who caught his fancy, a knack for loving that seem inborn in him, perhaps something his mother had noticed when he was still very young, the blossoming and slow voluptuousness of her son’s body, a mystery she did not wish to dissipate too soon, the opening of this erotic flower that would grow and fade soon enough, for her existence consisted first and foremost of war against the misery and poverty that threatened her children, why need she dwell too long on the singularity of her son who was also a daughter, yes daughter in every sense, languid at even the most manly of gymnastics in school, and if Yinn was that feminine why then she’d teach him to sew, or perhaps later on get him to join a dance company, after all, they weren’t always going to be as poor as all this Yinn often told her, and the thought of Yinn as a child reminded Petites Cendres that he too had once been a street kid, practically a beggar at times, so why was it he had just kept right on free-falling when Yinn had pulled himself up this way he thought, nothing like the meanness of Petites Cendres’ life, no, yet he’d so love Yinn’s fingers and hands to play over his skin like they did on Robert’s hips, though those buns were full and round, way more enticing than his own, which were almost as spotty as his face, those absent yet knowing fingers on his skin, oh what he wouldn’t give to be nearer to him, actually belong to him, though he had nothing to offer, not even to the lady in black, Yinn, elbows on the bar and so sought-after evenings and nights, and Petites Cendres marvelled at how she could just suddenly rise and discreetly walk over to the stairs holding her dress and with supreme grace go up each step, even when it was to head for the washroom, the men’s or the women’s, powder in hand, oh how Petites Cendres would have liked to follow and watch her pose in front of the mirror, laughing, embarrassed, yet still proud of being so indecent, sticking out her tongue at men yet enjoying them, tossing her skirts in the air to reveal the black G-string, teasing, letting them down with a thump or just allowing their unrequited dreams to soar, Petites Cendres marvelled at how she managed to keep them all flocking round her enigmatic purity, he remembered one afternoon with Yinn and friends, chatting at the bar, a white tank top and barefoot in beach sandals hooked by one toe, all of them sitting on their stools with their feet dangling and Yinn, so relaxed now, had just bawled out a young boy at the bar, hey no heroin in this place, yes I know you’ve started that crap again, stealing meds from your father’s psych office, you’re welcome back here, but only when you’ve kicked, so get into rehab first, you ought to be ashamed of the pain you’ve caused your dad, he hasn’t a clue what to do with you, respectable man too, since you were eleven you’ve been messing up your family with heroin and all, and look at you, wild-eyed and out of control, and it was true too, the boy had no control over his movements, arms and hands all over the place, his sweet curly teen head on Yinn’s shoulder, Yinn who in an instant could still lay down the law for the boy, c’mon he said gently, go on home and calm down, but barely was he out the door when two cops grabbed him and flung him against the wall, then with their white gloves they searched him, Yinn appeared in the street with an air of authority and said there’s nothing on him, I can assure you, someone should take him home to his parents she said gently, he’s vulnerable, the police like everyone else paid attention to Yinn it seemed, deliberately avoiding force as they took him home, siren wailing, we know his father one of them said, and this happens even in the best families, still what desolation it was there in the daylight, Yinn standing straight-backed, his curved forehead showing his concern, Petites Cendres could see his eyes were no longer blue as his lashes made them look at night, it was their length that created the illusion, in this light though they appeared golden brown and his pronounced cheeks were as pale as the rest of his face, more oriental, seeing this kid crippled by heroin he thought of Yinn as he used to be, having seen and tried it all, or so he said, just like the boy he was now trying to shield, and here we go again thought Petites Cendres, probably a victim of abuse or maybe he’d just done that to his body all by himself from age eleven on, already collapsed and demolished even before reaching his teens, when this brief scene was acted out and the kid was gone, Yinn went back to his friends sitting on their bar stools, once again his happy self, feet dangling gracefully from dropped sandals as he raised a glass with them, Petites Cendres noticed the light scarring on his forehead, shadows barely noticeable, but it was an obsession with Petites Cendres, whose skin in its progressive deterioration seemed mined and pox-ridden, always admiring other people’s skin along with the slightest marks or shadows, on Yinn’s clear skin they must have been signs of childhood battles, his mother even complained that however delicate he might be, his belligerence brought out an unexpected force, and how different he was now, this dancer’s body, gracious and oriental, always armed and ready to fend off blows in its own way, Robert from Martinique had left Yinn’s dressing room but not without a complicit wink from him, as Petites Cendres observed, oh how just one such look would have settled Petites Cendres’ beating heart and sweetened his loneliness, but this close to showtime Yinn had other things on his mind, and he asked Cobra how his hair looked, then slipped on Cobra’s bracelets for him and sipped something pink through a straw, okay girls, let’s go we’re gonna be late, and he said to Robbie that linoleum floor’s all cracked and disgusting, Geisha put your running shoes under the chair will you please, not on my table, you know it’s our sweaty feet night after night that have cracked it like that, those high heels put holes in everything, what’s that song you sing under your breath Robbie
, I will be your inspiration Daddy, oh Daddy
Robbie answers,
but you have to get the best for me, yes oh Daddy
, do it higher this time ordered Yinn, don’t forget it’s a woman singing, and a tiara in your hair would be good too he said to Cobra, when oh when am I gonna break you of this queen thing you’re carrying around Cobra replied, I mean this rich black hair isn’t enough for you, you’ve got to have a tiara too,
Daddy, oh Daddy
Robbie sang low, okay let’s forget the crown just this once Yinn said, and, sheet music in hand, Robbie paused, wandering back to his dreams from the night before, amid the torrential rain, everything taking place in this weird house, here I was dancing in front of this crowd of people not knowing who they were, not knowing how to sing or dance either, I could think of one thing and only one, I’d forgotten Fatalité’s deerskin coat, I could see it was still on the hanger, the sole thing in this weird house in the pouring rain, and that meant Fatalité would be out with no coat on, deerskin and lined with fine fur, nice and warm, snap out of it said Yinn, enough about coats Robbie, tonight we’ve got work on our minds, death may follow us everywhere like a sister but life goes on just the same, so just let forgotten coats stay forgotten okay, anyway Fatalité never wore anything of the kind, lined or not, never, she loved animals, oh I do like the clink of those bracelets Cobra, boy have you got sex appeal, tonight they’ll only have eyes for you, queen or no queen I’m billing you as the poster girl for sex appeal,
ladies and gentlemen, here she is the young, pretty, and slender Cobra, our very own Cobra
, look really, can’t you put those sneakers somewhere else, I’m trying to get made up here, you’ve got to admit it’s kind of a sacred ritual when you do your makeup Yinn, said Cobra, who had no idea what to do with his faded sneakers and wool socks in such a cramped space, it’s my daytime wear, I go for my run at sun-up and flush all those faces from the night before out of my system, it stinks of sweat here Yinn, really it’s pathetic you’re right about that cracked linoleum,
oh Daddy
sang Robbie,
I’ll do it all for you
Daddy oh Daddy
, then Yinn rocked Petites Cendres and with one swift move took
Robbie’s waist, slipped the elastic that smoothed his gut all the way down to his lower back and said look at the words on that standout scorpion tattoo

ROBBIE BELONGS TO DADDY
— and I can’t get that thing erased said Robbie, I’m telling you Petites Cendres, don’t but don’t fall in love, Daddy tore me apart, made me his plaything when I moved out on Yinn, Cobra, and the other girls to go live with him, I’m telling you he tore me to shreds body and soul, that’s what happened he said, suddenly filled with melancholy, his punk hairdo falling down over his temples, no no, don’t do it Petites Cendres, don’t fall in love, it’s the total depths of horror, any kind of passion just
has to be deliberate martyrdom, yeah but that’s exactly what you’re gonna do all over again said Yinn, I just know it Robbie, that’s how you are, impulsive by nature, compulsive too by the way, oh no said Robbie, don’t you worry about that, no way I’m getting into it with some man who’s gonna own me, make me his plaything, no never he repeated, yeah but I still think you’ll do it all over again said Yinn as he applied a black felt-tip to his arched stick-on eyebrows and Robbie hiked up his belt, because you just won’t learn Robbie he went on, Petites Cendres could not help thinking that he’d love to have those same words raised across a scorpion tattoo on his own backside, except it would be Yinn and Petites Cendres instead —
PETITES CENDRES BELONGS TO YINN
— property like Robbie, but his idle daydream evaporated into thin air with a whiff of strong delights, the combined perfume of all these bodies around him, their excited yet gorged senses, like Yinn’s or Robbie’s some nights, emanations of these healthy bodies, not like his, probably smelling more of something dreary and sad, maybe even sickly, still the passion that had drawn him here to Yinn in this dressing room, this intimate closet the girls shared, this at least was wholesome and satisfying, their wild costumes and frills all so carefully laid out, a backdrop to the tangle of their bodies, all this gave his soul a sense of rebirth, none of headlong Robbie’s ragged debris, oh no, Petites Cendres had no time to waste now Yinn was up and covered in queenly diamonds, telling them all it’s time people, onstage everyone, and from backstage Petites Cendres could see Robbie, Cobra, Geisha, and all the others join the procession. And Mai told her father it was because he wouldn’t let her use the cellphone when they were together, this wasn’t going to be more than a few hours out together after all, though of course he hadn’t expected the drive along the seashore to be this foggy, cellphones were out, a no-no when Daniel went out with his kids, his rules that’s all, he said, as all the red message lights stayed dark pursuant to paternal orders, boy what a tyrant laying waste to all her freedoms thought Mai, cut off from the entire outside world, her world, not her parents’ or grandparents’, Daniel’s pretext was he didn’t see her that often, none of them in fact, yet he depended on these gadgets as much as they did, still he didn’t want them to get in the way for the few moments of real talk they had together, though maybe he was the only one doing any talking, in any case this despotic device would not always be allowed to come between them like some music box held right up to your ear and that you answered with a narcissistic attitude, yeah it’s me, I’m listening, chit-chat with no resonance at all thought Daniel, though he didn’t yet know who it was that called her so often, what voices did those waves carry, he just knew that this ball and chain attached to his daughter in her jeans pocket or on her belt knew every secret mystery that he didn’t, so sometimes when he was alone with her it had to be silenced to give them some respite from the rapid-fire volley of rings, each one a supreme emergency like some urgent signal whenever she stuck it to her ear, then bowing her head as though to file it away, she briskly strode away from her parents, betraying not a single syllable or sound to them, especially her father the all-divining writer, or so it seemed, it was his job he said to read people’s thoughts better than most, alone with her, one true confidant always by her side day and night, stroking her cheek on her pillow with the cats, her one true dominator, not her parent anymore, that’s certain, but today, today well Daniel had it silenced and rendered harmless, the tiny, dark thing with its dull screen humbly hanging from the belt on her jeans, but sometimes she just couldn’t resist brushing her fingers across it to awaken the languishing sounds, and from the bridge of her very own boat Lou called Rosie, who was standing just feet away while she watched her father polishing the mahogany hull, knowing he’d be totally absorbed in thoughts of the woman he loved, knew it because of that particular smile men get when they feel sure of a conquest, they’d talked several times on the phone already today, nothing, no nothing could keep him from his mistress, even when his daughter was around thought Lou, and that so offended her that she grabbed up her cellphone and called Rosie who was right next to her, as if to defy him by imitation, Hi Rosie she said, you know one of the girls at school lent me her snake and coiled it around my shoulders, it was a long one with cold skin, but Rosie, dumbfounded, replied you’re not supposed to have snakes in school, oh well it was right in the bottom of her bag and no one saw it, she takes it everywhere said Lou, you’d never be brave enough to walk around with one around your neck would you, I know you wouldn’t she went on, you’re afraid of everything and you go to bed at eight o’clock, same time as your little brother, when I go to my mother’s place I can go to bed at midnight if I feel like it, what does it feel like asked a terrified Rosie, I mean having a snake wrapped around your neck, I wouldn’t like it, I know I wouldn’t, it feels like one bite could be the death of you said Lou, so you try not to disturb it, you get some courage that’s all, nope I’m not afraid at all, that’s for little kids that go to bed at the same time as their little brothers like you Rosie, but a snake is beautiful and very dangerous she continued, I could feel its cold, scaly skin all around my neck, but snakes are not allowed in school Rosie repeated, my mom would really punish me if I had one, that’s why I don’t, my mom would tell me so, but sharks, you’re allowed to go see those, she added, sharks and dolphins when you go to the aquarium on Sundays, only you can’t swim with them because they’re behind some glass, well, Lou cut in, in our class, the gifted class, we can do whatever we feel like, when we go diving, if the water’s calm we can see the sharks come in close to shore, Lou went on as she continued watching her father out of the corner of her eye, his art had caused him to be absent and cruel, his success with that retrospective in New York, of those spirals

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