Kamby Bolongo Mean River

by Robert Lopez

  The last time I did something to myself the phone rang and rang and I think it may've been Charlie who was probably worried about me doing something to myself which is probably why he called in the first place.

  Charlie and I would swim up and down the kamby bolongo instead of going to school. I was always the better swimmer which made Charlie jealous. It was hard for Charlie to swim because of how his head and hands shook so I'd have to save him from drowning all the time. I'd be doing laps up and down the kamby bolongo and would look behind me to find Charlie and he'd be gone. This is when I'd have to dive under to find him at the bottom and pull him up. I'd drag him to the shore and pound on his chest so that he'd cough up all the water he swallowed. It was a lot like how I'd go into the ring after some boxer knocked him out because he forgot to keep his portside up.

  Should the phone ring I will answer it and start singing songs into the receiver and I won't stop singing until I fall over from glee.

  We would always bring the dog to the kamby bolongo because if we left him in the house he'd probably die from the no air conditioning. I would hold the dog's leash while Charlie jogged and pulled the two of us along. Charlie was still a good jogger despite all the horrible shit that happened to him. When we'd get to the bolongo I'd play with the dog for a while though sometimes the dog was afraid of the water like Charlie was. I would throw a stick into the water and the dog would look at me instead of fetching it himself. The way he looked at me was why did you throw that stick into the bolongo if you wanted me to bring it right back to you.

  This is how I am with the doctor in his white coat and clipboard. I play his games and they tell me I am doing fine and I ask about the air conditioning or a clarification of the rules and he looks at me like Charlie just drowned in the kamby bolongo and it was my fault.

  Sometimes I call the doctor massa because what's the difference.

  Every time Charlie drowned in the kamby bolongo I'd drag him to shore and punch his lights out so he'd cough up all the river water he swallowed. Afterwards he'd thank me and we'd go for ice cream so it was never something to worry about.

  The ice cream truck was on the other side of the kamby bolongo so we'd have to cross it every time. Charlie would be scared like when he had to fight an especially tough boxer and I'd call him a chickenshit palooka. This is when Charlie would get angry with me and start pummeling me in the stomach so I'd know he was ready to go out and fight only in this case it was cross the bolongo and not drown.

  What happened was I found a shallow place to cross the bolongo so Charlie wouldn't drown and everything was fine.

  We ate ice cream every night for dinner instead of sandwiches and coleslaw when Mother was gone. I remember us talking about Mother and where she might be.

  I said to Charlie where do you think Mother is Charlie.

  Charlie said I don't know.

  Do you think she is coming back I said to Charlie.

  Charlie said I don't know.

  I said to Charlie do you think she wants to come back at least.

  Again Charlie said I don't know.

  Finally I said do you think maybe we should go look for her and you know what Charlie said to that so why bother.

  This is when I said to Charlie don't you know anything Charlie.

  Then I said what the fuck is wrong with you Charlie.

  Then I would tell Charlie to make himself useful and get us more ice cream.

  There are two ways to do something to yourself if you want to. The first takes about a week to do properly but it's the least bother by far.

  The first thing you have to do is not take the pills when the doctor gives them to you. What happens is the doctor makes a pill circle or square on his hand. This is what he always does and you can't blame doctors for being doctors anymore than you can blame dogs for being dogs because they can't help it either. If Mother taught me anything this is what she taught me.

  So you take each pill off his hand one at a time and place it under your tongue. The trick is instead of swallowing the pill you swallow only the water leaving the pill under your tongue. It helps if you say ah like you always do this way the doctor won't get suspicious. After you do this with every pill in the circle or square you wait for the doctor to leave. Maybe you have to twitch yourself once or twice or maybe you don't it doesn't matter. Once he's gone you take the pills from under your tongue and hide them under your pillow.

  It's even better if your pillows and sheets are the same color as your pills because this way it's like camouflage.

  You do this every day for a week and then when no one's trying to watch you masturbate you swallow every pill under your pillow at the same time.

  This is the best way to do something to yourself if you want to.

  So far two things happen when I do this to myself and neither of them is good unfortunately.

  The first is I fall asleep and then I wake up because my stomach feels like Charlie has been pummeling it into oblivion. I am sweating even more than usual and then I have to throw up like Charlie used to when I gave him the raw eggs and milk. I throw up for a long time and then I feel better but I am even more dehydrated than usual and they have to give me fluids.

  Then the doctors come in here and take my uniform from me and they take my pillow from me too because they know that's where I hid all the pills.

  Whenever they do this I tell them they're not as dumb as they look.

  The second way to do something to yourself is to take off your helmet and ram your head into the wall over and over.

  This way doesn't work as well for two reasons.

  The first is it gives you a horrible fucking headache every time. It doesn't matter what part of your head you ram into the wall either.

  The second reason is even if you know they're not trying to watch you masturbate they can hear you ramming your head into the wall so they rush right in and make you stop. Most times you can only get three or four rams in before this happens.

  Then four of them come in and hold you aloft with each one holding a separate limb. You say this is what it feels like to be drawn and quartered and they say why do you make us do this to you.

  This time they fasten your helmet onto your head so you can't take it off and they tie your body to the bed so you can't get up. They tie down your arms and legs so you can't do anything with yourself.

  You can't even masturbate which serves them right.

  Should the phone ring I will say the hello how are you and not give the person on the other end a chance to answer. I will follow up the hello how are you with I'm not feeling well today the insides of my thighs are rubbed raw and I can't walk myself around anymore and this morning I finally thought to rub the baby oil on the chafed parts and that brought some relief but it doesn't change that my brother Charlie is who knows where and my hand hurts from all the masturbating and I don't know if the ice cream truck will come around again.

  Then if the person on the other end is still there I will ask if they are the ice cream truck and why won't they come around.

  This is another thing my hand hurts now. I don't think they care about my hand hurting is what I think. This is why I think these doctors are cruel and unusual because I know they want me to masturbate in the first place. They are the ones who don't give me a television to watch and they are the ones who give me baby oil so I won't chafe. Maybe I could live with my hand like this if I had a television to watch or if the phone could dial out but certainly not otherwise.

  I tell this to the doctor with the white coat and clipboard so that maybe he might give me something for my hand but all he does is write it down on his clipboard and say I am getting better.

  I don't know if he means I am getting better at masturbating or what. I know they watch me masturbate and compile the data but I don't know if I am getting better at it. To me I've always been a good masturbator.

  I tell them I can't draw with my hand like this.

  This is why I don't think this doctor is
a real doctor. I think he might be the original Charlie Robertson playing the part of the doctor. I think this might be summer stock is another way of saying what I'm saying.

  Last week I finally had a conversation with this hypothetical doctor and it proves my point.

  The hypothetical doctor said how are we doing today Johnny.

  I said I'm doing fine Massa how are you.

  This is the calling each other Johnny game we sometimes have to play except now I call him Massa instead.

  The hypothetical doctor said my doctor wants me to walk and my wife wants me to walk so I go for walks now. I walk along the sound's shoreline which curves and bends its way into a row of houses on either side of the walkway. A retaining wall keeps the water from the road and from the houses on the other side of the road. It's hard to imagine waves tall enough to reach one or the other.

  I said to him this is what happens when you don't get killed off in your prime Massa.

  I said the doctors and wives conspire against you and make you do these things.

  Then the hypothetical doctor said sometimes my legs burn when I exert myself so sometimes the walk takes longer than it should. When this happens I'll find a bench and look out across the sound and wait until the burning stops. The burning starts when I feel my calves tighten and then it's like I've got scotch whiskey instead of blood flowing from my knees down into my ankles.

  I said this is exactly how my hand feels when I masturbate.

  The hypothetical doctor said I didn't mention my legs burning to the doctor. I'm not someone who likes to tell people what's wrong with me. I told my wife over dinner and now my wife thinks I'm dying.

  She sounds a lot like my brother Charlie I said to him next.

  The hypothetical doctor said my wife says I'm going to die from cancer. I don't have cancer but my wife thinks I'll die from it anyway. She says it'll be my prostate or liver or colon. She doesn't say how she knows this but she says it'll be horrible. She says she doesn't want to spoon-feed me soup and sponge my body down and change my soiled underclothes to watch me die like that.

  I'm not sure that's what happens to you when you get cancer but I pretend otherwise for the sake of conversation.

  So I said is that so Massa.

  The hypothetical doctor said when she says this to me I sing back to her I don't have a husband he don't play the trombone. She laughs when I do this.

  That sounds like what me and Charlie would do for Mother during the commercials except most of our songs were about the kamby bolongo until Mother would threaten us with a ladle is what I said back to him.

  Then I said how is your vibrato holding up.

  The hypothetical doctor said what I mean to say is I'm not sure walking will keep any of that god awful business from happening or if the burning in my legs means the cancer has already started. My wife is a good woman and I don't want her to have to go through that business to watch me die like that. I don't care what happens to the doctor or what he has to go through.

  I said I know what you mean by that.

  The hypothetical doctor said then we look at each other like we've been married for twenty-five years with no end in sight. It's a nice moment between us. This is when she tells me to go for a walk after our dinner of broiled chicken and mashed potatoes and that I should eat more vegetables. Then we talk about the retaining wall and the road and the houses along the shore and I pick up where I left off after he don't play the trombone. We both start laughing this time and we don't stop until after the food gets cold.

  I said it sounds exactly like me and Charlie except what we had for dinner was sandwiches and coleslaw and ice cream but only when Mother was away those two summers.

  I told him I would draw a special picture for him. I said the next time you come in here remind me and I'll show it to you.

  My idea for his special picture is to draw a stick doctor walking along the sound's shoreline and then dying of cancer right on the spot.

  Now I can't wait to draw it and I can't wait to show it to the awful bastard.

  This is when I know this doctor isn't a real one because why would he need another doctor himself. This is probably why he doesn't help me with my hand. He doesn't know how to help me because he's not real.

  Every so often he comes in here and gives me my pills anyway. They don't say what the pills are for but they say I need them. I ask them where do you get these pills but they never answer me. I know the pills aren't for my hand because my hand never gets any better.

  If I didn't take these pills I think I might get hurt and die. Or I think that's what I'm supposed to think and who can argue.

  The one who gives me my pills now doesn't make a pill circle or square like Mother used to and I wouldn't make it disappear if he tried.

  When I take the pills I ask does he know how to do the Heimlich maneuver just in case.

  Should the phone ring I might answer it and say go fuck yourself. If it's Mother on the other end I will be sorry but if it isn't then whoever it is can go fuck themselves including Charlie.

  Should the phone ring it might be Mother's lawyer from when she was on trial for her life.

  Why Mother was on trial is she stole money from her boss although they didn't call it stealing they called it embezzling. This was another instance where I had trouble with the words.

  Mother would have her lawyer over for dinner to discuss her legal strategy. The way they did this was Charlie and I would have our sandwiches and coleslaw first so that we'd be finished by the time the lawyer came over. This is when Mother gave us money for the ice cream truck except it was the lawyer himself who gave us the money because Mother was broke again.

  Mother's legal strategy was a lot like Charlie's boxing. She was supposed to be patient and keep her left up but what happened was she was too aggressive and got herself knocked out with a dangerous combination.

  What the fuck kind of word is embezzling is what I asked Mother one time and she said tell me about it.

  Should the phone ring I might cry out for Charlie and I will keep talking to Charlie whether it's Charlie on the other end or not. I will ask Charlie questions and will tell him about the doctor who comes by and tells me what I can and cannot do. I will tell him about the phone and the machine and the songs I sing sometimes and how that I'm getting better. My range is improving so that I can hit the high A now which is respectable for someone who never made it in show business.

  Mother was disappointed that I didn't make it in show business. I told her it wasn't my fault and she said well whose fault was it and of course she was right.

  Should the phone ring I will let the machine pick up because I have arranged for the machine to tell everyone but Mother to go fuck themselves.

  I haven't spoken to anyone on the phone or in person for weeks now. I think it's weeks but it could just as well be months or years. There's no telling time in here so you can never tell.

  The doctor who explains what I can and cannot do hasn't been by to do that nor have the four men who hold me aloft been by to do what it is they do for a long time now. Maybe they have forgotten about me or maybe they have found someone else to do these things to.

  The doctor who explains what I can and cannot do has arranged it so that the phone can only receive calls and not place any. I cannot call anyone from this phone is what I'm probably saying here.

  I cannot tell anyone what the five men have been doing to me and I can't tell anyone that it seems they've stopped doing it to me anymore. I have picked up the phone maybe two thousand times and punched in every combination of numbers I can figure. There are no magic digits to dial so I can make a call myself is another way of saying it.

  Should the phone ring I will ask Mother to call Charlie herself. I don't see why I have to be the conduit between them anymore. I will explain to her about the air conditioning and the chafing and the ice cream truck and then I will tell her I have something on the stove.

  The trouble is I can't help it what they sa
y to each other particularly when I'm not there.

  Should the phone ring I might say why hast thou forsaken me O Charlie. Then I might say you was my brother Charlie you should've looked after me a little. Then he might say that I saw some action and then I'll say something about the short end dives and taking Wilson apart. That we could've taken Wilson apart that night in the Garden and finally when it's over I'll say it is accomplished Charlie.

  Should the phone ring I will stop masturbating and answer it. I hope it's a woman that calls so she can talk to me while I finish masturbating. It is always better to talk to a woman while masturbating. I hope she has a nice voice and knows all the right words to say. It's not the same if I have to tell her what to say all the time and both of us know this.

  This is only true if the woman is not Mother. There is no way to talk to Mother and masturbate at the same time.

  Sometimes women call here and trick me into masturbating. This was back when the phone used to ring every so often and I was trying not to masturbate all the time.