by Jesse Ball
Next to him was another cook. But this cook wasn’t doing anything.
One of them was saying something using everything he had that was small and awful. It had to do with his unhappiness at being a cook. The other one ate it up and even giggled. He loved being a cook, loved peeling, loved sitting outside. What a day!
But it’s awful, it really is, it’s awful to take a child out of her life and make her be the headpiece of this disgusting spectacle. Decade after decade it continues. You’d think we were in the Middle Ages. You’d think no one could read and everyone did what the king says, et cetera et cetera.
I don’t know, I love all the holidays. I like this one especially. It isn’t always bad. Sometimes everything is—well, when they say she is serene, then there is no trouble, none at all. It was like that once when I was a boy.
I don’t remember that. To me it’s just mayhem. Listen to yourself, you love holidays. What garbage. You’re peeling those wrong. Here, let me show you.
The second cook did some peeling. Maybe he was better at it than the other guy.
Did you see her, though, did you see her when they brought her in? They wrapped her up in everything they could find in the wardrobe that fits a child. Then they shove her out into the street like a windup toy. It’s disgusting. And the parade itself, it’s just beyond reason—all the old set pieces and the actors rambling on.
The first cook shook his head very distinctly.
Whatever you think about the parade, he said, the crowd is something to see—once it goes off—once no one knows what is to happen. I bet whatever you say, you’ll be there watching. Where else would you go? What else would you do?
BACK INSIDE, EVERYONE WAS SAYING, IT’S TIME, IT’S time.
On the float, there was a man with an enormous beard. Lessen laughed and skipped to him, at least as well as she could skip in the dress. She tugged at the beard and smiled up at the man, who bowed to her and covered his eyes.
You are too bright a sight for me, he said.
She went on along the float, and there was a throne of thistles and vines.
Do I sit here?
Yes.
With help she climbed up onto it.
Tell that one to come up here.
She pointed out one of the sweeps.
This one? No. This one? No. This one?
He came up onto the float.
I want him to stand here in case I need him.
All right.
A girl came and tied a ribbon around his arm.
Then there was quiet; the director was there: he stood beside the throne. The magistrate away behind. There were many young women in dresses inferior in color and make, like echoes to the Infanta.
The float had a sort of stairway at its front that led up to a flat place before the throne.
This is the Court of the Infanta, whispered the director. We go through the streets, and anyone may present a case. When they do, you listen. Then you decide how it is to be. Your sleeves are the verdict.
She looked at him in puzzlement.
Your sleeves say what you mean. One is for guilt, for those who have done bad things, this is the red sleeve, and one is for innocence, for those who are good, who you want to go free, this is the white sleeve. To make a decision, you unfurl one and raise it for the crowd, like this.
He showed her.
And if the decision is not like that—if it is just choosing between two things or people, then you use this.
He took a yellow scepter like a snake out from under the throne.
With this you point to the one you choose.
She nodded and held it in her hand. But she was confused. She felt a sudden fear. Director!
She whispered, Director, come here!
He put his head close to hers. He smelled like, she didn’t know what. Something thick and . . . she didn’t know.
Yes, Infanta.
How do I choose?
You’ll see. You just decide. It doesn’t matter. You just say what you feel.
I want to see my mother.
She has gone home. She’s not here anymore. You’ll see her tomorrow, after the festival.
The Infanta began to cry.
She said she would read to me. I want to go home.
Some things have changed, said the director. We need to keep you here tonight. Don’t worry, there are many people to read to you.
One of the Infanta’s maids came up and caressed the child’s face. She was very lovely. She touched the tears with her fingertips.
Lessen stared.
This is Ari, said the director.
Call me Ari or Arianna—whatever you want. I will stay with you through the whole thing. I won’t leave your side.
Lessen climbed out of the throne, and Ari held her for a while. The chimney sweep was there too, and he took her little hand in his.
Don’t worry, my love, he said. We will be here with you.
IT’S TIME, THE DIRECTOR WAS SAYING. PLACES, PLACES. We’ll move the float just as it would go.
To Lessen he said, There will be real cases, real verdicts, and also ceremonial ones—prearranged ones. It is part of the festival. These cases come before every Infanta, and the crowd knows them—knows how they go. We’ll go through the ceremonial ones now, one by one, so you learn what to do.
I don’t understand.
Don’t worry.
The float began to move. Lessen adjusted herself on the throne, which shook a bit. Her dress felt suddenly uncomfortable. She wanted to tear off her corona and veil. She wanted to run out of the theater and far away.
But who was this coming up the steps? A man painted all in gold, in gold all over—wearing no clothes but gold paint. And then a man in silver.
From the left came someone Lessen hadn’t seen. He had a long pole, and he stopped the two men right before the throne.
Who are you? he said.
I am the sun, said one. I give all light. You know me.
And I am the moon, said the other. I am your companion through all of life. I am never far away, and like you, I change. You know me.
The man with the pole spoke up.
What is your grievance?
LESSEN WATCHED THE MEN AS THEY RAISED THEIR ARMS and spoke, as much to the crowd as to her. They said many things she didn’t understand, but some of it she did. The sun was unhappy because the moon was sometimes coming out during the day, and he wanted the day for himself. Was that it? The moon was not unhappy, he wanted to keep on as he had been—wasn’t it how it always had been? He kept saying that.
And then everyone was quiet, and then they looked at her. Was it her turn to speak?
She had the snake rod in her hand. It was very light. She looked at the sun and she looked at the moon and she thought that she didn’t like the man who was the sun. His voice was loud, and he seemed very demanding. He reminded her of her uncle, who had spanked her just the week before for breaking a plate. And she hadn’t even broken it. At least she hadn’t put it there at the edge of the table, which was the same as breaking it. She hated him. It made her angry to think about it. Now she was sure. The moon, he was all right. But she didn’t like this sun at all.
She pointed to the moon, and the crowd erupted in applause. The chimney sweeps ran up the stairs and set hands on the man in gold paint. He tried to get away, but they caught him. They carried him off shrieking to some place she couldn’t see. The moon bowed like a dancer, and she let him kiss her hand. And then the float was moving on.
IT WENT TWICE AROUND THE ROOM, AND THE CROWD did their best to get in its way, as they were supposed to. Once, someone got caught under one of the wheels and had to be pulled out. At some point the director yelled and everyone halted.
Up the steps to the Infanta’s Court came the biggest woman Lessen had ever seen, and she was dragging a very small man by the hair, thump, thump, thump, up the steps. He kicked his feet, but it didn’t matter, he came. He had no choice.
She threw him down like
a sack of flour, and he scrambled about ineffectually and bowed and scraped before Lessen. A laugh came from the director.
The woman curtsied, which looked strange from a woman so large.
What is your grievance?
It’s this old shit, said the woman, kicking the man, who was on his hands and knees. He howled and looked pleadingly about.
What has he done?
He won’t keep it in his pants. He runs about town knocking up this girl and that girl, and then they come to the house looking for handouts. To be plain—he sleeps around, with anyone who’ll have him, and I want the old goat put out to pasture.
The crowd burst into laughter. Some threw things at the man, who was palpably struck and rolled over onto his back.
Do you have anything to say?
The man with the pole prodded the accused, who got to his feet, shook himself off, dusted himself down, adjusted his coat, took a hat out of his pocket, unfolded it, and placed it on his head.
The woman had been speaking mostly to the crowd, but the man spoke directly to Lessen.
Your Grace, I have to tell you, the burden of living with this woman for thirty years would drive anyone away. A man like me, a good man; he shouldn’t have to be looking over his shoulder every minute. Every minute of every day of thirty years. That’s a lot of days, a lot of minutes. She has no kindness in her, none at all. I have my failings, and I, I happen to be a person who needs some kindness now and then. I apologize for that. I apologize for being a gentle man, a gentleman who needs some kindness. And he finds it in places. He finds it in different people. But is that a crime? I’m sorry for what has happened. Truly I am. Infanta, she beats me night and day with a stick.
Not enough! said the woman. Clearly it hasn’t been enough.
The woman took a step closer, and the man with the pole pushed her back.
Infanta, what shall we do with him? Help me.
Lessen didn’t know what was wrong with sleeping, and she didn’t know what it meant to put someone to pasture. She did think the woman was frightening, though. And the old man was so smelly. He reached out to touch Lessen’s foot, and the man with the pole slapped him away.
He is guilty, said Lessen, and dropped her red sleeve.
The crowd roared, and the large woman leapt with glee.
The old man darted off past the throne and tried to dodge away through the crowd, but from the sound of it, he didn’t get far. Some overzealous people began to beat him.
This is the rehearsal, shouted the director. Go easy.
THE FLOAT WENT AROUND AND AROUND, AND THIS time it stopped so suddenly, it lurched forward, nearly tossing Lessen from the throne. Someone was under the float. There was screaming, and then a figure was pulled out from below by the crowd. He was pulled up onto the float and laid there before Lessen, but she could not see his face, for his head was entirely covered by a giant gas mask and to his hands were tied a sort of bellows. He was a mannequin, like the one they’d made of her!
A woman dressed in rags ran up the steps and dragged the man in the mask down to his knees. She stood beside him, pushing his head down with her hand.
Because he cannot speak, she said, I will speak for him. I am the poor of Row House. He is the spirit that hounds us. Out in the nation, he walks in a thousand thousand bodies, and every one of his thousand thousand arms and all the perfect hands, they clutch at the gas and they point the gas at us.
She took a breath; she was almost crying.
Beneath this hideous mask,
And here she kicked the man, who took it and didn’t move.
I said, beneath this hideous mask, he never cries about what he’s done. The holes dug a hundred feet deep are full of bodies. My body is thrown into a hole, again and again, and beneath his mask he doesn’t cry, and his perfect hands point at me. He poisons me. He watches me thrash. This is a story of a hundred years, of two hundred years. These are our lives. Even now he wants to kill me, to use me. Look at him.
The crowd was full of anger. People were shouting things. Lessen couldn’t hear what. Her eyes were full of the crouching man.
Infanta, I beg you. Tell me what to do. What shall we do with him? We who have him finally before us, what do we do?
A moment passed, and another.
Lessen was frozen.
The director nudged her.
The Infanta started to stand and faltered. She slipped forward. Someone steadied her, and she drew herself up quite elegantly and unfurled the red sleeve.
The woman turned to the crowd and shouted, She has no words, but justice, justice from the Infanta!
They threw the body down into the crowd, and this time the director jumped forward immediately.
Take care, take care, he cried. We’ll need that for tomorrow. I’ll have your heads if you wreck it now.
THERE WERE SEVERAL MORE CASES BROUGHT, AND IT was all very exciting, but also tiring, and when the director called a halt to it, Lessen was relieved. She practically had to be carried. In fact she did have to be carried, but there were many people to do it, and all of them wanted to.
Someone brought her food to eat, and someone else took her to a toilet. They didn’t notice that she had peed a little in her dress, which was good because Lessen didn’t think that mattered so much. Most clothes could take a little pee and nothing changed. But everyone always made such a big deal out of it. Why? It was unfortunate to pee in such a nice dress, but it was so big and thick. It didn’t matter, did it? Someone gave her a cake from a little bag, and when she ate it, they gave her another. Someone helped her off with her dress and into her old clothing. Someone read her a book and sang songs with her. She wanted to speak to her mother on the telephone, but they wouldn’t let her. When she cried someone held her.
Everyone kept saying what a good job she was doing and how proud they all were. Even the old man who had been beaten came to say she had done a good job. Perhaps he hadn’t been beaten after all. He and the large woman waved as they went off across the theater, and Lessen felt buoyant. Who was she—and how suddenly she had become this person, she didn’t know who or how!
Come this way, said a man. We have a place for you to sleep.
ONE THING IS IMPORTANT, SAID THE DIRECTOR, KNEELING by the pallet. You may have dreams tonight. And if you remember them, it will be a great help to us. The dreams of the Infanta are useful. In the procession we will tell them like stories, and spread them through Row House like gossip or song. Do you remember your dreams?
Lessen said that she always did. She remembered every one. Should she tell him some?
No—tomorrow will be enough. And something else. Here in the theater it hasn’t been so bad, has it, with all the performers?
And of course, it hadn’t been so bad. Lessen said so.
Well, tomorrow we will be out in the streets and the crowds that come to enjoy the festival, they are really something, they are something unpredictable. Have you ever seen the ocean? Have your parents shown you pictures?
Lessen shook her head.
Well, it is water I’m talking about, as far as the eye can see. The crowd is like that, too. It is more than you can take in, and so I am saying to you, just don’t worry about it. You don’t have to know what’s going on. I never do.
The director went away and Lessen felt afraid. Was she alone? There were so many people near. How could she be alone? Where was her family? The theater was enormous and dark. She looked out into the darkness, and there was nothing there. Now and then a light flickered, a match being lit or a lighter, and it was as if the space, all of it sprung into being and then disappeared again. There were people lying down all over, but none were close enough, none touched her, none spoke to her. She felt alone, and the feeling gathered and twisted like a rope. Why couldn’t she go home?
My darling! Here you are!
She knew that voice. She sat up.
It was Arianna, who had come back. The young woman had a flashlight, and she knelt by Lessen’s pallet
.
Hold this for me, would you?
Lessen held the flashlight.
Ari put some blankets on the ground next to Lessen’s pallet. The man was there too, Lessen’s chimney sweep.
Ari started unbuttoning her dress. The man began to lie down.
Not in front of the child, said Ari. You sleep on the other side.
Right, he said, and went around.
Tell her a story. I forgot something; be right back.
Ari disappeared into the air.
You know, I’m usually a mechanic. Do you—the man looked to see if Lessen was listening; she was—do you know what that is?
You fix things.
That’s right, things that move. So one day I am repairing this bus, it’s a big job, and we have the bus up on a lift, it brings it up in the air so you can work underneath it, and we discover that someone has taped a whole bunch of money to the bottom of the bus. There’s just a lot of money there, a whole bunch. Me and this other guy, Hackett, we find it. So Hackett took half and I took the other half, and we didn’t tell anyone. That’s a secret.
Lessen’s eyes widened.
What did you buy?
I didn’t buy anything yet. Hackett said you should wait a long time before using money like that, and I don’t need it right now. I got home and the first thing I thought was, where should I put it? Which is funny because that’s the same problem the other guy had.
Lessen didn’t understand.
I mean, whoever’s money it was. They hid it in the bus, to hide it. I guess they didn’t figure anyone would lift a bus off the ground.
And then Ari appeared with a glass of milk and some more of the little cakes.
Here you go!
Don’t leave again, said Lessen.
I promise I won’t.
Ari took her dress off in a way that was perhaps not so elegant and revealed that she was the sort of girl who strives for grace but does not naturally have it. Her body was very wonderful, however. She took the flashlight back and stretched out next to the pallet. She was much prettier than Lessen’s mother, who would never wear a slip like that where people could see. Lessen felt small.