"Like to come along with to Mexico and South America?"
I named a figure. He smiled and nodded. I wrote the address of my loft on a card and handed it to him. "Be there at eleven in the morning. We make magic."
When I got back to the loft Jim was there, and I explained that we were going to perform this ritual to get Jerry's spirit out.
He nodded. "Yeah, he's half in and half out and it hurts."
Next day Kiki showed up with a bundle of herbs and a head of Elleggua in a hatbox. As he was setting up his altar, lighting candles and anointing the head, I explained that he would fuck Jim and evoke Jerry to bring Jerry all the way in—and then I had good strong magic to exorcise the spirit. Kiki watched with approval, one magic man to another, as I set up the altar for the noon ritual and lit the incense. It was ten minutes before noon.
"Todos nudos ahora."
Kiki was wearing red shiny boxer shorts, and when he slipped them off he was half-hard. Jim was stiff and lubricating. I drew a circle around our bodies. We were facing south for the noon ritual and I had set up a red candle for fire, which was Jerry's element. The amulet was on the altar and there was a tube of KY by the unguent jar.
"When I say ahora, fuck him."
Kiki picked up the KY and moved behind Jim, who leaned forward over the altar, hands braced on knees. Kiki rubbed KY up Jim's ass and hitched his hand around Jim's hips, contracting his body as his cock slid in. Jim gasped and bared his teeth. His head and neck turned bright red and the cartilage behind his right ear swelled into a pulsing knot.
Holding the amulet, I took a position on the other side of the altar. Jerry's face was in front of me now, as the red color spread down Jim's chest and his nipples pulsed erect. His stomach, crotch and thighs were bright red now, and the rash spread down his calves to his toes and the fever smell reeked out of him. His head twisted to the right as I touched the amulet to the crown of his head, to the forehead between the eyes, and to the cartilage behind both ears.
"Back to earth. Back to air. Back to fire. Back to water."
For a split second Jerry's face hung there, eyes blazing green light. A reek of decay filled the room. Someone said "Shit" in a loud voice. We carried Jim to a couch. Kiki got a wet towel and rubbed his chest, face, and neck. He opened his eyes, sat up, and smiled. The decay smell was gone. So was the fever smell.
At two o'clock O'Brien called: "Well, I think we've found your head for you—or what's left of it. Can't be sure until we check the dental work...."
"Where did you find it?"
"At the airport. Crate labeled MACHINE PARTS sent by air freight and addressed to a broker in Lima, Peru, to be picked up by Juan Mateos. The crate was being loaded onto the plane when the workmen accidentally dropped it and it split open. It was airtight and strongly built ... it just happened to fall right on a seam. They tell me the stink was enough to knock a man down. One of puked all over the crate."
"When did this happen?"
"At noon. We sent along a duplicate crate and contacted the Lima police to tail anyone who calls for it."
"Was the crate lined with magnetized iron?"
"Yes. We duplicated that too. The Lima police have two men planted in the customs broker's to watch anyone who calls for other crates in case he tries to check out the head crate in any way. A compass would tell him it is magnetized. We've got a wax head inside, so even with X-ray equipment ..."
"Very good. You seem to have thought of everything. But just one more point: an object like that gives out very strong psychic vibrations that a sensitive could pick up on.... You might tell them to watch especially for an adolescent who comes for another crate and touches of brushes up against the head crate."
"That's already been done. Captain Graywood told them to watch for an errand boy who might brush against the crate, especially with his ass or crotch."
O'Brien said this in a matter-of-fact voice, as if it were routine procedure. Dimitri, Graywood, and now O'Brien. Who the hell were these so-called cops?
Firecrackers
There are about thirty boys staying in Skipper Nordenholz's "Palace," as we call it. The number fluctuates from day to day as people come in from other settlements or set out on various missions. Mr. Thomas has taken The Great White and sailed with a small crew. His assignment is, as always, to recruit people with special skills.
The boys cook in the communal kitchen or on the patio. Here the Arab boys roast meat over charcoal fires and bake bread in clay ovens. Food is plentiful. We set traps for fish in the river and in the bay. A short walk into the jungle and I can shoot wild turkey and grouse and occasionally a deer. River fish can also be kept in the fishpond until needed.
We are all up at dawn for a breakfast of eggs, fruit, and bread. Then after a short rest there is instruction in bare-hand fighting given by Japanese and Chinese youths: the use of stick, chain, and staff, different styles of swordsmanship, and knife fighting. An Indian Thuggee gives lessons in the strangling cord. He belongs to a dissident magical brotherhood known as the Secret Stranglers who have separated themselves from the worship of Kali.
I take particular interest in archery since the bow can deliver more projectiles in less time than the guns we are making. I have made a number of crossbows to sell in the store so that the Indians will be able to duplicate the design. These bows are not as heavy as the usual crossbows and it is quite easy to pull and cock the bow by hand. I am more interested in speed of fire than in armor-piercing strength.
Dink Rivers excels at the martial arts. After a few lessons he is able to equal his instructors in proficiency. He explains once general body control is mastered, any physical skill can be learned almost at once. He has promised to show me the secrets of body control but says that the time has not yet come. "I get my orders in dreams and whatever happens in my dreams then has to happen when I wake up." Often he does not sleep in the Palace and Hans tells me he has a hut about half a mile down the coast.
One night I dream I am sitting with Dink when he looks at me and says, "I think you should see this," pulling down his shorts to reveal his half-erect phallus. I wake up in a state of great excitement and Dink says that the time is approaching. In preparation I must abstain from sex for three days.
At the end of this period, during which I had not seen him, be appeared in my room during the siesta hour and led the way out through the gate and along the path by the sea. We are quite close to the hut before I can see it, built in clump of trees and shrubs, painted green and blending with the surroundings. The house is built of parts salvaged from grounded ships.
Inside it is cool and dark, smelling of pitch. The house consists of a single room furnished like a ship's cabin, containing a chest, a rolled-up pallet, and two low stools of driftwood. We take off our clothes, hanging them on wooden pegs and he indicated that I am to sit opposite him on one of the stools, our knees touching. He looks silently into my eyes and I feel a tightness and weakness in the chest.
He is getting stiff and so am I, the feeling of weakness now like death in the throat as we both are fully erect. Silver spots boil in front of my eyes and I have a feeling of squeezing into his nuts and cock as I lie on the pallet and Dink fucks me.
Afterwards we lie down side by side. He is talking in his clear grave young voice. I have rarely seen him smile and there is something very sad and remote about him like a faint sign or signal from a distant star.
"Middletown isn't like the town where you came from. There are no Mrs. Nortons sniffing around for the scent of whiskey and sin. We do not allow people like her in Middletown. To an outsider, Middletown is just a pretty little place, stone houses along a clear river. Nice friendly folk. But strangers don't stay unless we can adjust them to our ways. For those who must remain outside there is no land for sale and no work.