Fletcher had had me practice this. Being with. Intensely. I couldn't look away. I didn't want to look away. It was a strangely reassuring encounter.
I realized what it was about his eyes that disconcerted me-they were too feminine. If a woman had eyes like that, she would be a model or a movie star. On a boy... they were simply overwhelming.
There was a strange kind of peace here. I could drown in it.
The boy reached out and touched my face. Like an ape, exploring a strange object. He touched my hair, patted it. His hand moved cautiously, drew back quickly. He smelled of dust.
And then he dropped his hand again. And waited.
I don't know how I knew what he was waiting for, but I knew that it was an invitation.
I touched his face as he had touched mine. I touched his hair; I let my fingers drift across his cheek. A smile spread across his face. He reached up and took my fingers in his hand and looked at them. I could see how clean my hand was in his. He sniffed my fingers. His pink tongue flicked out in a tentative, delicate movement and tasted my fingertips. He smiled at me again. He liked the way I tasted. He let go of my hand. And waited again.
Was I supposed to taste his fingers now?
I took his hand in mine. And sniffed it. And tasted. Dirt. I smiled at him.
He smiled back. It was good. Complete.
The boy stood up then and walked away. Didn't look back to see if I was following. I didn't know why; I followed. Realized I wasn't used to going barefoot. The dry grass hurt my feet.
My body felt... held back. Not free. I knew what it was. I stopped and dropped my shorts, stepped out of them. Felt myself begin to disappear. Into the crowd. The herd. All bodies. Had to let go of bodies first. Be naked. Free. Vulnerable.
Accessible. Available.
Beginning to feel enveloped. Like sunshine. Bathe in it. Withhold nothing. Let it go. Giggling. Feeling. Silly.
Crazy. Mind-noise. Wondering what patterns. Meaning. Applying. Here. Confusing. Concepts. Silly. Feeling
Shook my head. Puzzled. Startled myself back to reality-turned around slowly in confusion. Looking for?
I wandered in a daze, I wasn't sure how long. I remember stopping to drink at the wading pool again, and I remember emptying my bladder in a sodden ditch at the east end of the park.
I remember getting hungry and finding my way over to the trucks when they rolled into the park. I pulled off a piece of the loaf and found a place to sit and eat.
Blinking. What was-happened?
Moment after moment after moment, but none of them bound together-so none of them are remembered. All lost as soon as they occur. A roller coaster.
No control.
I'd thought I'd understood. I'd thought that I could get a sense of it. I was mistaken.
I had to get out.
I stood up and headed toward the Jeep. Toward where the Jeep had been parked. And Fletcher. "I'm coming out," I said. I touched the collar. "This isn't going to work. Fletcher, are you listening? I'm coming out. This is Jim." I touched the collar like an icon. My life depended on it. "Fletcher?"
There was no reply.
Was the collar still working?
It didn't matter. I'd just go straight to the Jeep.
I realized I was naked. Where had I dropped my shorts? I should look for them. I moved through the milling bodies with a purposefulness they lacked. Some of them turned to look at me. Then they turned back to their own concerns. Their food. Their mates. Their games. Most of them were naked. Turning.
I didn't see my shorts. I gave up looking. There'd be a blanket at the Jeep anyway, or a coat. I stopped and turned around slowly, scanning the edges of the plaza. Now, where-?
-am I?
No, don't panic. It's all right. She's probably monitoring from a distance. That's all. She said it herself, it wouldn't be a good idea for her to stay too close to the herd.
A note in the air. I turned to look.
Children, humming. A tuneless hum, but
-and the females humming too. Chorusing. An odd atonal wail. All vowels.
Oh, no. No. That wasn't supposed to happen until tomorrow. Oh, God. The gathering. The tuning. It's accelerated again. Two days in a row now!
Others picking up the hum. Discordance. Babbling. Trying to find the note
I have to get out of here. Now. I turned around in panic.
It was building rapidly. Much too fast. Remember what happened to me last time. I have to get out of here while I still remember.
And now, the males-the voices deep growling at the bottom end of the scale. And the females are unearthly, an almost heavenly chorus. The cubs' voices are high and sweet... and curiously musical.
And ... I could hear what they were trying to do. All of them. It was a resonance in the air, and each one of us was trying to fit his or her own particular note into that resonance.
I turned around and around, looking for the way out, feeling like I was about to dissolve. Turning
I could feel my own body vibrating in response. I wanted to add my own note. It was in my throat. It came welling up, rumbling like two heterodyning engines. "Mmmmhhhmmmmhhhm mmm.. . .
And I found it. It clicked into the chorus and I disappeared into the sound. The sound was larger than the universe. There was no me any more. Only the sound. The incredible sound. All the voices. All together. And. All of us. Echoes of me. I put my note out and it echoed in all those other throats, all those other bodies.
All the bodies,
all the hands,
all the bodies turning, not
not lost at all, not
and
turning
found
home
here
cry
happ
ing
FORTY-FOUR
THE FAT black lady was naked.
She was sitting on an old toilet, laughing and rocking happily. She saw me and began to laugh even harder. Her eyes were twinkling.
I couldn't help myself I moved closer.
Her breasts were large and voluminous. They shook like jelly with her every movement; when she laughed, they rippled with waves of hilarity. Her nipples were large and black against her chocolate skin.
Her arms were immense, thicker around than my legs. They shook too with great masses of flesh. I found myself grinning. Her thighs were massive. Her hands were balloons. I loved her. Who wouldn't?! !
I could feel her joy. It poured from her like light-I wanted to bathe in the light.
She knew I was standing in front of her, watching her. She knew I was smiling with her, but she didn't do anything except watch me and rock and laugh.
I wanted to ask her who she was-except I already knew. She couldn't hide it.
She saw it in my eyes that I knew-and she laughed even harder. She laughed and laughed at the joke. Her joke. Our joke.
I laughed too. It was a terrific joke. We looked at each other and we laughed like crazy. It was the craziest joke in the universe. There we were, the two of us, knowing what we knew about each other, each knowing how silly the other looked, each knowing how silly we looked to the other, each knowing how silly all of everything was-and we laughed and laughed ... until we fell into each other's arms.
When the fat black lady hugged you, you stayed hugged.
I was happy in her arms. She loved me. She would hold me forever. I was happy here. She laughed and held me and rocked me and cooed at me.
I whispered, "I know who you are. . . ."
And she whispered back, "And I know who you are-"
I glanced around at the others and giggled; I looked back to her and whispered again, "We're not supposed to be talking here, are we?"
She boomed with hearty guffaws then and hugged me to her massive breasts. "S'all right, hon-bun. None o' them can hear us. Not 'less we want 'em too." She stroked my hair.
Her nipple was near my mouth. I kissed it, and she laughed. I looked up at her, sheepishly. She leaned down to me and whispered, "Don't you stop that, hon-bun. You know your mamma likes it." She lifted her breast toward my mouth and--
--for an instant, I was a baby again, safe and warm and rocking in my mother's arms, happily enraptured--