Authors: Michael Bible
Ten minutes and cops have surrounded the boat. We are hunkered in the hull.
The fuck do we do now, Darling says.
Gimme your phone, I say.
We’re gonna die, says Doubting Eli.
I just sent Hal and Al Malchow a message, I say. They got the Internet to order one thousand pizzas to this address.
Cops are too busy asking who ordered anchovies to see us backing up the boat, unhitching in the water. We’re pushing off into the Hudson River. News choppers like vultures in the sky. One spotlights us. Our hair going wildly in the wind, we raise sails.
Fire two flares, Eli, I say. Distract the pilot.
Darling, I say. Grab the scuba gear.
The city behind us erupts in gunfire.
Two flares. That way, Eli.
We’ve found ourselves caught between a gunfight and New Jersey.
I take a hard left and we hug the coast. There is quiet out on the water as we see the statue for the first time. So lonely beside the furious city. Tough as a woman, soft as a girl.
We drop anchor and put on our scuba gear. I fall backward into the water and blow my boat a kiss goodbye. A ship so sweet she did not need a name. I hit the detonator and she explodes.
Falling to shore my mind’s made up—love is an unwise and beautiful adventure. Battery Park and we’ve beaten back the pigs. We’re presumed dead. From where we are we have a straight level shot of Lady Liberty in front of us. The Freedom Tower at our back.
Eli, you are first shift lookout tonight. If the cops come, keep them occupied with tales of lunar phenomena.
Take your hand off the wheel of time slowly. We could be happy as children running naked in their first rain. I fill Darling full of love. Her dark eyes look to heaven as if in prayer.
St. Oscar is assassinated while he raises the chalice at the end of the Eucharist. The altar boys think it’s a firecracker lit off by one of the school bullies and continue their duties.
The snow is now coming in sideways. The broken spokes of the wheel keep spinning. A cup of black coffee and the dead famous actor with a needle in his arm. An indecent landscape out there. Not a proper backyard for miles. Down on our knees, Eli, for some heroic sign. A clue to help us clean away what’s the matter.
Strange Spanish whispers from the garbage men. We are broken again. Suffering for food. Unflappable gauchos, Eli, yet Cataract is closing in.
We are tourists on this earth. We get brief access to the fire and ice. There is another message. On a menu at the little French bistro we can’t afford.
I am with Nono, it reads. We’re coming for you. Let’s play a Manhattan-size game of chess. Black or white?
The child pains increase inside Darling. I am filled to the brim with love for our forthcoming family. History is unfolding under our feet. Chasing us. A new Christ for Yankees and Rebels.
We’ve got to mount a worthy defense, Eli.
Are we going to have to get the crew back together, I say.
I’m afraid so.
The Holy Ghost rises from bed and brushes her hair. The light of heaven is heavy in her eyes. She is all the women I have ever loved. She is my Darling, too. There is hunger in the bellies of babes in the arms of refugees. There is sand in my toes from the beaches of Babylon.
The planes look like they’re floating, says Eli, but they are moving with incredible speed.
I tell the skywriter to spell out,
WE’LL PLAY THE BLACK PIECES. YOUR MOVE
.
Nono plays his queen, Darling is ours. Tuesday and Finger are rooks. Al and Hal are black knights. We are playing a human-sized game of chess throughout this island. We pay the local weirdos to be pawns.
The Aztecs believe St. Thomas is their God. I shrug at the coming apocalypse, he says.
e4 e5
At dawn they send a Haitian man in a dashiki to Central Park and we counter with a girl in cornrows to greet him. They are young and understand only their hormones. Our first pawns into battle.
What’s Cataract doing here, Eli. Walk me through it.
Control the center.
The seasons are spiraling. The calendar pages are flying away.
What’s the plan?
We wait, you say. It’s his move.
f4 exf4
He moves a pawn, a crust punk, to Lincoln Square. We capture, make him make our beds. My teeth are falling out. I lose control. I can’t find a bathroom. I have just learned to fly and I am falling falling falling and never hit the ground.
Wake up, says Eli.
I was never asleep.
Bc4 Qh4+
They send a Texas runaway to Murray Hill.
We have to send Darling to Hell’s Kitchen, you say, Eli.
Unsafe, I say.
Darling is dog-tired on the bench and her cheeks are pink with cold. There is a brutal innocence to her. She’s a pugilist against signs and shadows.
I am not weeks, she says. I am days away.
I love you, I say. I love you till dust.
I hail a cab and put my whole world inside it. Pat the trunk twice as it drives away. She smiles through the window, her eyes are a pale pale blue.
Kf1 b5
Cataract shifts himself over a block in Harlem. We put an Oxy addict up to block the crust punk in Murray Hill. My mind is of a mind to mind you, Eli. There are fighters in the streets of eerie cities tonight. Spacemen look down on earth. I am amazed by constant human error, the drop of blood spilled on the map to redemption. The deafening death rattle of those dying alone.
We’re playing for our lives here, you say, Eli.
No mercy, I say.
Bxb5 Nf6
The crust punk takes our runaway and ravages her sexually in Gramercy Park. I dispatch Al Malchow to the West Village. A
sun-shower looms. The devil beats his wife. A fox’s wedding. Naked rain. A witch brushes her hair. Orphan’s tears.
Nf3 Qh6
Cataract sends a Cuban drug dealer to threaten my Darling.
I will destroy the boy, I say.
Calm down, you say, Eli. They’ll capture you.
She retreats. Her eyes, throughout the earth—they run to and fro.
We’re running out of time, I say. I feel the new Lord crying out.
d3 Nh5
Cataract brings another Harlem girl on the sly to the Upper East Side. I dispatch Al to Hell’s Kitchen. The winds of favor and grace. A couple cries at Papa John’s. There is an accident, child and car. A dog births puppies in the gutter and the man who sells lemons dries his eyes. A girl in a jean jacket smokes and cries. The wind has started blowing at our backs.
Nh4 Qg5
A heroin addict ex-model to Hell’s Kitchen. Her hair in tangles. Her lipstick all wrong.
Send Darling our Queen to threaten them, says you, Eli.
Why must we always use her as bait, I say.
You got a better idea, amateur?
Do it, I say.
Nf5 c6
Cataract moves the runaway down to the Garment District. We dispatch a hustler to block the crust punk in Gramercy.
He’s bringing the fight to us, you say, Eli.
I wait beside the fading bus stop.
Coke for a smoke, says a man in dark clothes.
I keep to the downers, I say.
I got those, too.
He loads me up and I spiral down and return baptized on the side of Judas.
But he betrayed your Lord, you say, Eli. Thirty pieces of silver and a kiss.
Without him nothing happens, I say. We remain unforgiven.
The Holy Ghost blows me on the sun.
1g4 Nf6
A juvenile delinquent to Midtown. Al Malchow retreats. Millions of humans small talk through their day. I’m in the corner watching the paralyzed man roll through the street with his family. Boom and all the dead. He was a soldier once in a war against the domino effect. I remember his tattoo. A naked lady on his chest he made dance when he flexed pecs. Molly, your sister, is here with us, Eli. Her face covered in freckles, cutting herself and posing nude for the man in a three-piece suit.
Rg1 cxb5
A runaway to Morningside Heights and we take the crust punk. The air feels like Amsterdam, where they play chess with all white pieces. Bike weather with Mercury in retrograde. In the ocean
somewhere baby tiger sharks cannibalize their siblings in the womb. I ache for God, Eli. Simply put.
h4 Qg6
He sends a tenderfoot to Times Square and Darling moves back to Tribeca. Darling my comfort, my home. Her hair is shaggy in a seventies way. She wears a summer dress and a leather jacket, reads a worn copy of
Light in August
. Blows me a kiss. The dying sun is so often the color of blood. We would drink milkshakes if we were not at war.
h5 Qg5
A blind Rastafarian threatens Darling, we move her away quickly.
Eli, the children’s hospital is on fire.
Keep focus, you say.
A girl with golden flowers is going cross-eyed.
Cataract smells blood, he knows my child is about to arrive.
Blessed are the meek, says Eli. No mercy.
Qf3 Ng8
Nono moves to Midtown. Al Halchow retreats. There is a siren constant in the distance. Always some emergency in Manhattan. The hipsters sip gourmet whiskey out in Brooklyn. Let them live their ironic lives in peace. Sunny day. Man plays trumpet in the park. A drunk kid dry heaves. His dog nuzzles his arm.
Bxf4 Qf6
A runaway from Ohio comes crashing down to Hell’s Kitchen and captures the Haitian. He threatens my Darling.
Retreat, I call to her. Come close to me.
No mercy, she says. There’s no such thing.
Nc3 Bc5
A white Rastafarian to the Upper East Side and I send Finger to the East Village. He is strong now with his money and child, a tough son with his mother’s eyes. Tuesday is everywhere. She’s always on time.
Nd5 Qxb2
A kid named Choker goes to Union Square. Darling to Harlem.
Are we winners or losers, Eli?
Pointless question, you say.
Do you see five moves ahead?
Yes.
And do we win?
Pointless question.
I get high alone. The sky is a boring blue.
Bd6 Qxa1+
They move a bipolar girl in overalls to Little Italy. Darling takes a runaway and Cataract’s in check. I see flashes of Mississippi. Long afternoons with Wise Jane and Willie. It can be strawberries and weed and daisies. I’ve got a good girl with her heart in the fight. No time for nostalgia. The jig is almost up.
Ke2 Bxg1
Cataract moves to lower Harlem and I send Finger to capture the ex-model in Morningside Heights.
My mind is on autopilot. The moon, Eli. Remember. The tides?
Dark matter, you say. Antimatter. Visible matter.
Who says?
They.
We’re all the they there is now.
e5 Na6
Cataract moves up a break-dancer to Soho and I call Hal Malchow to the Lower East Side. I’ve got a head full of flowers but I am sane. I scale a co-op. It is nice, the warm night, seasons grinding out. Good night to the rich and poor. Social justice is absurd compared to the universe. We are battle ready. The end is nigh.
Nxg7+ Kd8
A Knight puts us in check. You move over to Chinatown.
I know this game, you say, Eli. He’s already won.
Qf6+ Nxf6
Nono moves to Soho. A blunder. Tuesday captures her.
Be7#
Checkmate.
Cataract paces in the jail hallway. He smells of sage and masturbation. Some silver light enters through the window and the jailer whistles “2 Legit 2 Quit.” Tuesday and Finger make out. Al and Hal play thumb war. Eli, you let Darling sleep on your shoulder.
I have a vision of losing battles fought only in dimensions and time. We were two soldiers, Eli, but now we are prisoners of war. The killers and victims unite in forgiveness. The heavens and the earth cleft from each other. We are all truly made from the same stuff. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.
Jailer, I call. She’s going into labor. Jailer rolls his toothpick.
Bullshit, he says.
Her water’s broken, see for yourself.
When he opens the cell door and comes to her I hit him over the head and take his gun. Another guard sees us and Finger slams him. Al and Hal take out another.
Snowball will be here in five, I say. Just like we planned it.
I have to find Nono, you say.
There’s no time, I say.
I’m going into labor, says Darling.
You don’t have to pretend anymore, I say.
I’m not, she says.
I touch her belly.
I’m going to find Nono, you say, Eli.
See you on the roof, I say. The helicopter’s waiting.
Maloney, Darling says. It’s happening.
We run through the maze of halls. A rookie stops us and raises his gun.
Get out of here, kid, I say. I’ll spare you.
The rookie gets off two shots and I pop one in his leg. We’re up the stairs and more cops are close behind. I can hear the helicopter blades from the roof. I feel a sting on my back and I fall.
Maloney, you say, Eli. You’re hit.
Where have you been?
I found Nono. She’s on her way.
Help me up, I say and we run out the door. The helicopter is in the air. Nono comes running and at the last moment grabs your hand.
Can you forgive me, I say to Nono.
Namaste, she says.
Cataract comes out shooting blindly and the SWAT team’s close behind. We head up and out over the water into the black night.
They call out a chopper of their own. Snowball maneuvers best he can.
I’ve got to put her down, he says.
Get us to the Statue of Liberty, I say.
We won’t make it, he says. Not all of us.
We’re going down fast. I see the statue from the corner of my eye. We get on the rope to go down.
Steady, I say.
The police helicopter is landing on the other side of the island. The whole SWAT team runs out, guns firing.
I slip and fall out into the darkness.
When I come to, I’m on your back, Eli, and you’re carrying Darling in your arms up the statue stairs. The cops are close behind.