The Royal Family

by William T. Vollmann

  Domino shook her head wryly.

  That girl got a thin, thin skin, said the Queen.

  Domino didn’t say anything for a long time. Then, holding the Queen around the waist, she said quietly: Look at that black night sky. It’s going to rain again. I think it’s going to rain all night.

  You don’t want to go out, the Queen said.

  I never did.

  Nobody made you, honey. Queen’s not gonna tell you no lies. Girl, you’re free. You don’t have to do nothin.’

  Some nights I have a bad feeling, Domino said.

  What’s your fear, darlin’? C’mere. Come tell me.

  Well, you remember, uh, that time I got raped?

  The first time or the second time?

  The first time. The second time wasn’t so bad. At least we punished that Spic and cashed in, thanks to you and Justin. At least he didn’t stick a gun up my ass . . .

  So that’s your fear. Somebody’s gonna hurt you bad, maybe fuck you up and put you in the ground . . .

  That’s right. And somehow I thought that once you came to us, Maj, then we’d all be saved. Don’t think I’m not grateful, but . . . Like everything would just work out on its own, and—

  You can have all that if you want, said the Queen. You been there, Domino. You know what they call that place?

  Crack heaven! laughed the blonde so sadly.

  No. Don’t even joke about it. Jail. Jail’s the name of that place . . .

  But it isn’t right. I’m tired of these shitty lousy streets. And all the men whose cocks I have to suck on . . .

  Then don’t suck, the Queen said. Nobody can make you do what you don’t want to do. Even that man stuck his pistol up your ass, you could have said no. You could have died and not been tamed.

  That’s bullshit.

  Domino, I tell you this. Listen to me, Domino. Domino, you gonna outlive me. I know it. You got nothin’ to fear. Domino, someday you gonna be Queen after me. And I swear to you, nobody ever gonna rape you again. I know that. You believe?

  I—

  You believe me, honey, or you don’t believe?

  I believe . . .

  Good. Then go out there and make us all some fresh money. Or do you want me to get that other man who hurt you? You know I can find him. I found the Dominican, didn’t I? I mean, Henry and I found him. But I know you so well, honey. Just gonna make you angrier and angrier to see him. Well, maybe he’s dead. Hold my hand.

  I—

  Close your eyes and hold my hand. That’s a good girl. Now what do you see? You see his face?

  It’s so dark, Maj . . .

  All rightie, now. I got a glimpse of him. Kind of a glimpse, anyways. Man got those droopy eyes and the long moustache, I seen that man. Squeeze my hand.

  I do not want to see that bastard.

  You see, Domino? You tellin’ me now yourself you don’t wanna see that guy. How can I please you? How can I help you? Now, sweetie, you gotta put up or shut up. Squeeze my hand.

  No—

  Last time I’m gonna ask you. Squeeze my hand. Okay. Good. Somethin’s glowin’ just like that wool cap on top of Justin’s head. Now we’re past that. And here’s those seein’-eye demons. Now we’re in the darkness. His name is Ray. He’s doin’ time up in Pelican Bay. I can see him up there. Can you see him?

  Domino pulled her hand away. —Oh, this is all bullshit! she shouted, and ran away crying.

  * * *

  •BOOK XV•

  * * *

  Vigs

  •

  * * *

  And the Lord said to Joshua, “Do not fear or be dismayed; take all the fighting men with you and arise, go up to Ai; see, I have given into your hand the king of Ai, and his people, his city, and his land; and you shall do to Ai and its king as you did to Jericho and its king . . .”

  JOSHUA 8.1–2

  * * *

  •

  | 239 |

  As autumn came on, the police sweeps of Capp Street almost ceased, but in the Tenderloin everyone frenziedly told and retold rumors, of which the most extreme and exaggerated were forwarded to the Queen’s parking garage, of approaching calamities for which no remedy existed except patience. Of course this ill wind increased in force only gradually, like Beatrice, who sucked men off as slowly as her Papa used to fill his wheelbarrow with dirt and stones. On Irene’s birthday (August ninth) it was scarcely a fetid breeze. But by late September it could not be denied. It was up to the Queen to interpret the keening and take steps to protect her family. As for the queenless others, they lay low, mumbling evil prophecies from the innermost wrinkles of their gaunt souls. The great street organism braced itself, expecting some nervous shock. (Imagine, if you will, some suspicious streetwalker holding herself rigid in the headlights of oncoming cars, her hands twisted nervously behind her back as if they concealed frightening weapons.) Meanwhile there was a minor construction boom of new multinational hotels and upscale restaurants, the kind that John and Celia liked; these establishments chipped away at the Tenderloin, like roads, camps and waystations penetrating into virgin forest. The inevitable result, since street life, like any other kind, determinedly struggled to survive, was that as certain blocks were “cleansed” to resemble the wide, skylit stalls of the mul-titiered parking garage at Saveco, the remainder became more concentrated, thick and rank and wiry like underbrush now teeming with animals which have fled an oncoming forest fire. When the Queen was questioned about the meaning of this strange feeling which made the whores’ short hairs prickle on their necks, she replied only to wait and see. She continued to expand her operation, as if she could go on supplying protection to everybody forever, maybe because she believed it or maybe because it was too late for her to stop or maybe because she thought it the upright thing to do, like the moral calculus of a man who cannot swim but dives into deep water in hopes of saving a drowning child. And so, in this whimsical world of ours where pickled intestinal worms may resemble high-quality ginseng roots, the Chinese prostitute Yellow Bird, whom careerism required to drink the colored water which her customers believed to be alcohol, decided to leave the bar in North Beach where she had sipped away at her hopes for months now, because she’d heard of the Queen. —China was better under Chairman Mao, she told the tall man. In that time, no money-money-money. Not do bad thing for money so cruel to the customer. My madam she cursing and screaming if I drink too slow. —Indifferent to Mao’s merits, the tall man led her past a dusty window with a red grating whose bars and squares resembled I Ching ideograms, then up tall narrow grey stairs ascending toward a single immensely powerful light. That light became her Queen. Her heart became as quiet as Chinatown on a rainy midnight.

  My name it mean like Yellow Bird, she was explaining to Beatrice over her glass of colored water, while the tall man stood just beyond the doorway swivelling his head from side to side. I wanna be free like other yellow birds but my life is no good.

  A Chinese was yelling.

  What’s he saying?

  He say some bargain with bartender. He want make qvarrer. Every night I see him. Sometimes he go with two girls. —Very ugly, she added venomously.

  Beatrice was sorry for her. She wanted to bring this new girl to the Queen.

  Today I go to my friend’s place to get some money, Yellow Bird said. I keep some money in her place for my mother. Just in Chinatown I go vin-dow shopping.

  A few days later Beatrice saw Yellow Bird on the street and Yellow Bird said: Because I qvarrer wiv the boss. I buy a new suit, and she say new suit not from me, but from customer. I say no, and she swear at me. Then I say I don’t want to work here anymore. Then she want to give me another chance, and she say she love me, but I say no. Bar is no good for me. Now I try to find another job.

  Just remember one thing, the tall man said. Nobody gonna force you.

  I know somebody who wants to meet you, said Beatrice in the same breath.

  The Queen agreed to meet her. Yellow Bird bowed four times. —All
rightie, sighed the Queen. Now I’m going to spit in your mouth. I want you to . . .

  But she was noticeably distracted now by her friendship with Tyler. A few of the whores had begun to question her fitness to rule, but then, they always did and always would.

  Right now I would say the Queen is my best friend, but they change, Lily explained. Strawberry used to be my best friend but that was before I met the Queen. Domino used to be my best friend. Shit, she started stealing my tricks and then she broke my arm.

  And where did you meet her? asked the trick. (He was really a vig. Later he’d make a report.)

  From this guy in the salmon-packing plant.

  But when the vig asked Domino where she’d met Lily, the blonde curtly replied: We met in jail. Some cop caught me kicking a crack pipe in a doorway . . .

  Is she your best friend?

  Who the fuck do you think you’re asking?

  Needless to say, Domino was the most outspoken, but even she never said publicly that she had become unfriends with the Queen. Outwardly she and the Queen continued to be on the same loving terms as before. And inwardly, too, perhaps, little had changed.

  Dan Smooth, who always heard everything first, said that the city was going to tear down all the crack hotels on Mission Street—surely an exaggeration. Dan Smooth said that vigs would get the Queen someday. Dan Smooth, one of whose eyebrows was higher than the other, sweated gloom and doom like some Mexicali bar from whose dark edges women flowed, the ceiling omniously tinseled like a rattlesnake’s scales. Bad stories flowed now even from the lips of the Wonderbar regulars with their crutches and moustaches and their caps pulled low over their eyes. Surely it couldn’t have been true about the hotels, though; nothing was true that Saturday night on O’Farrell and Jones, that night comprised of black women in translucent pastel skins which were neither bikinis nor raincoats; they shimmered like jellyfish in a dark sea.

  Well, so what’s your story? they said. You want some company or not?

  Well, you’re just so beautiful, I don’t know which to choose.

  Don’t worry, Strawberry said, not seeing the man’s ferocious sarcasm about to un-sheath itself and attack her, it’s our business, her and me. You won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t pick me.

  So you’re friends then, the man said.

  Yeah, friends, the two women said in agreement.

  If you don’t pick me, I’d rather have your money go to her than some stranger, Strawberry explained.

  So can you buy me a pack of cigarettes? Domino said.

  Sure, sweetheart. Here’s a dollar.

  It’s more like three dollars. You’re living in the dark ages.

  Grimacing, the man reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a five. —Can you give me change for that? he said.

  You bet, said Domino, who considered herself a class act.

  You ever done any time?

  What kind of a question is that?

  I was just wondering.

  Wondering what?

  What’s jail like? the trick asked brightly.

  I just got out of jail. I don’t want to talk about it.

  I only wondered . . .

  Look, buster, said Domino. I’m not an animal in a zoo. You want a date or not?

  You look expensive.

  Well, you just go to your little ATM and take out a hundred dollars, Domino said. Your wife will never miss it.

  My wife keeps me on an allowance, he said. He exuded playfully self-satisfied indiscipline, in just the same way as when barrel-shaped Brady went into a restaurant determined to be good and order the salad but when he opened his lips he heard emerge strict orders for pork chops and deep-fried calamari. —Can I get in touch with you again? he asked the two prostitutes.

  I’m sorry but you can’t, said Strawberry.

  Can I get in touch with the Queen? the trick said.

  With who, dear?

  With your Queen. You know. That little black lady . . .

  No, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Strawberry said. You a cop?

  I don’t know what the fuck this cocksucker is up to, said Domino, but he obviously mistakes us for somebody else.

  The man said: Hey, if I just give you fifty in hard cash . . .

  Honey, said Domino, that just ain’t gonna cut it. Now, either you walk or my homegirl and I are gonna walk. And my feet are tired. So won’t you please, please, please go away?

  The man pulled out twenty and said: Then can I just get some head?

  Now he’s acting weird, said Strawberry.

  Head costs fifty from me, said Domino. I’m a self-respecting girl. I don’t go down on anybody for less than fifty dollars.

  I told you I have fifty dollars, the man said happily. Let’s go.

  Don’t go, said Strawberry. I got a bad feeling.

  Why don’t you keep an eye on us and I’ll share with you later, said Domino.

  How much?

  I’ll give you a piece.

  Oh, all right, sighed Strawberry.

  The three of them set out, trisecting the Tenderloin night where everything was yellow against granite, and Strawberry dully realized that there were more and more Vietnamese establishments and more murals on the walls than there used to be. Glowing beads of sensation went round and round inside her skull like fireflies. Passing the 441 Club through whose open door the jukebox sang My, my, MY Delilah, Strawberry gazed in, remembering when it had been a black bar; now it was a Korean bar, shiny-surfaced, with red paper lamps which hung down like breasts. These changes vaguely upset Strawberry. She did not know what the world wanted of her. It was so much effort to learn how things were that she preferred no changes. The other girls kept saying that something bad would happen soon, and Strawberry felt anxious, waiting for portents. Down at Turk Street where the double rows of lights faded they went into the alley which the blonde preferred, and Strawberry kept her back turned to the orally copulating pair, trying simultaneously to block them from view. She heard Domino smacking her lips, and then the man grunted, and Domino coughed and spat.

  She turned around. The man was zipping up his pants, leaning rapturously on the top of Domino’s head. Domino was retching.

  How about a tip for me, mister? said Strawberry. I kept you from bein’ hassled . . .

  I didn’t ask you to guard me, the man said. I bet you get off on listening. I know how you whores are.

  Oh, really? said Domino brightly, rising to her feet. How do you know that?

  The man sniggered and started to walk away.

  I’m looking for your Queen, he said. And when I find her, I’m going to beat her ass.

  Think he’s a vig? said Strawberry when he was out of sight.

  I dunno, said Domino. Probably just an idiot.

  Well, I think we should tell Maj.

  Go ahead. See what I care, the blonde said wearily.

  And you said you was gonna cut me in . . .

  I’ll save you some rock, okay?

  Please, Domino, I need to get well.

  Oh, all right. Here’s ten dollars. But you have to pay the Queen’s cut out of that.

  But Queen’s cut is ten dollars!

  Oh, get lost, said Domino. Can’t you see I’m feeling blue? I’m so tired.

  | 240 |

  Are you ready, honey? the Queen whispered. Is it okay if I make you a little uncomfortable for a while?

  Yes, said Tyler, swallowing.

  Sitting astride him, she eyed him glowingly, a tender smile on her lips. His penis leaped up.

  She bent and kissed his cheek. Then she straightened, wiggled smilingly on top of him like a little girl settling herself bareback on a trusted and docile family horse, and after that the smile slowly cooled upon her mouth until she was gazing at him in an appraisal which objectified and instrumentalized him for her purposes.

  She slapped his cheek.

  He blinked.

  She slapped his face hard enough to make both his ears ring.

  H
e swallowed.

  Don’t resist me, she said in a hard voice, striking him across the face again and again.

  His heart thrilled.

  Turn over, she said.

  He turned over, and she touched his buttock with something cool and thin and gentle, and then the cool thin gentle thing whizzed across the backs of his naked thighs, causing him instantaneous pain which then increased for almost five seconds before it began to fade.

  The cane came down again and again. She was careful; she never gave him a stroke before the previous stroke ceased to hurt. She was making it easy on him this time.

  She welted his thighs, buttocks and shoulders, then turned him over again and whipped him on the front sides of his thighs. He could see the long, straight, red and white welts rise up where she touched him.

  She took his nipple between her teeth and slowly bit until the hot, cold, steely pain made him cry out for the first time.

  Ahh, said the Queen, smiling.

  Put your hands behind your head, she said. Don’t move. You’re not allowed to move at all.

  She seated herself on his penis and took him, grunting, her face hardening and straining like a man’s. As commanded, he didn’t move a muscle. No one had ever possessed him like that before. Sweet sweat exploded from her and fell upon his chest. His wrists ached behind his head. He longed to begin thrusting inside her. He longed to crown her with something. He longed to place flowers in her hands, to give her pennies, dollars, diamonds, boulders of pure crack cocaine. Her mouth was wide open now and she was throttling him and spitting in his face. —Fuck me now, she growled thickly. That’s a good boy. Now you can come. Come for Mama. Oh. Oh. You’re Mama’s good little boy.