The Royal Family

by William T. Vollmann

  It was Sapphire who renewed the promise for at least a little longer.

  | 378 |

  I do not propose to “explain” her, because I do not understand her. But I love her more than any of the other characters in this book, except perhaps for Domino, and I refuse to refrain from praising her: Should astronomers and ethicists ever succeed in proving that God resembles her, then lost and weary Cain won’t need to flee anymore.

  | 379 |

  One cloudy autumn day when on Second and Howard Streets near Allied Gasket Company the steel gratings took on the color of the clouds, Tyler’s rent became late. He wished that he could tell someone, but his only friends now were the royal family, none of whom paid rent at all except by the day; his worries might exasperate them. Moreover, it might well be that by continuing to live in this place filled with things, this rich place to which he literally held the key, he was continuing to commit disloyalty to his Queen, who had raised him up out of the hell into which his addiction to Irene had cast him; shouldn’t he go into the streets to behold her always, especially now when her reign would so soon end? And yet he was afraid, not so much for himself, who no longer cared for much in the world, as for the Queen’s other children who were already so jealous of him for sitting always at her right hand. Moreover, couldn’t he love her wherever he was? If his apartment, telephone, computer, bed, books and car were a detriment to him, wouldn’t she have said so? He’d never asked her because he feared to ask her. He feared that if he so much as mentioned his money troubles, she might think that he was occupied with other matters than she herself. Well, he knew she wouldn’t think that, because she knew everything. Still he was afraid to broach any material matters. All his many fears came from the realization that his body must soon be destroyed—how soon, he didn’t know. And out of that fear he continually wished that his telephone would ring with lucrative offers. But suddenly he began to fear that when the phone rang he would be obliged to greet his landlord, so he got into his car for a roll downtown and up the hill to Post and Sutter where he saw Chocolate entering the Little Corner House Restaurant, laughing and joking with one of her johns; she didn’t see Tyler, who continued up Bush, Pine, California, where it was high and hot. A cable car blocked the intersection. As always, the city got quieter the higher he ascended. He turned right on Clay Street. The Transamerica Pryamid broke the sky. Behind crouched the Bay Bridge like a many-legged dinosaur knee deep in ocean. Crossing the trolley-tracks of Powell Street he spied three big-breasted young girls holding iced cappuccinos and felt no desire for them because he was with the Queen now who filled his heart with a blissful muteness. He no longer sought to express himself; he did not want to plough greener pastures.

  When he came into the Wonderbar later that night, Loreena the barmaid, who usually laid her hand on his and said hello, stranger! was standing with her back turned to the customers, gazing into the mirror as if she were checking her makeup. He knew that she was crying.

  The bullet-shaped little owner stood there, smirking and red, drinking and drinking so that his face grew as red as the marquee of the Market Street Cinema.

  I’m smart enough to know how to do this, Loreena said. I am smart enough to know how to do this.

  Who’s running the show? said the owner.

  You’re running the show, Heavyset, but I—

  That’s what counts, the owner shouted. Right?

  Right, the barmaid whispered.

  How much you got in your till? How much did I give you?

  You gave me nothing, Loreena said.

  Good! Because nothing is what you deserve, you thieving crackhead bitch.

  If you don’t trust me—

  I don’t.

  Loreena walked as far away from him as she could get while still remaining within the bar’s magic circle, and she wept.

  Well, well, well! cried Heavyset with his hard little laugh. If it ain’t Henry! What’ll it be, Henry? Your usual?

  Yeah, sure, said Tyler. Have you seen the Queen?

  The who?

  Oh, forget it. Have you seen Domino?

  I eighty-sixed that skanky bitch, said Heavyset with immense satisfaction. Told her she’d better not come peddling ass in here anymore. She swore at me, too. I had to call the cops on her.

  Just a second, Tyler said, striding out the back door into the black alley where Chocolate in her pale white parka was chuckling and weeping crazily to herself in the darkness. She stank and she had gained weight. She stood for hours on Mission Street begging men to please please give her twenty-five cents, and if any of them did, she grabbed the fellow tight and whispered: Couldja do me a big, big favor? Couldja gimme a dollar or maybe twenny dollars ’cause I—you know? You wanna go someplace with me? —None of them did.

  What’s the matter, honey?

  He ain’t right, the black woman snarled.

  Who?

  Heavyset. He tole me don’t come in there again, ’cause it’s a Mexican bar. He ain’t right. He gonna get his. Someday it gonna happen to him. I can see the day.

  Come on in and I’ll buy you a drink, he said. He won’t pick on you when I buy you something.

  No way am I goin’ in there!

  All right. Well, I’ll be inside waiting for the Queen.

  I’m cold, said Chocolate. An’ Maj she don’t do nothin’ for us now.

  How’s business?

  Lousy. An’ I’m hungry. I want something to eat. Won’t you take me down to that Burger King an buy me some fries or something? ’Cause Maj she—

  Where’s Justin?

  They busted him when he was on Turk Street tryin’ to cop some downers for Sapphire, I think. An’ they took his crutches—

  All right, he said.

  What the hell, chuckled Chocolate. I got some meat on my ass. My pants are too loose, though. They keep sliding down. You wanna see my ass?

  I’m going inside. I’ll buy you a beer, though.

  I said what the hell. Tell you what. You offer me a beer and then I’ll tell him real loud just what I think of him.

  Tyler had to laugh. He didn’t like Heavyset. —I get it, he said. You let me go in first and then you come in afterward and go right up to me.

  Okay. ’Cause he ain’t right. Henry, he got somethin’ bad comin’ to him.

  Tyler strode back in through the back door, past the pool table where two characters scowled at him and said: You’re welcome. —Tyler replied: Why, fancy that. I was just thinking the same thing.

  Heavyset was laughing at the television, red-faced, with a shot of bourbon in his hand. Loreena was still crying. Tyler sat down and said to her: What’s new?

  Oh, I’m changing the locks on my place again. My ex started hitting me again last night.

  When are you going to kick him out for good?

  It’s just something between him and me. Like Strawberry and Justin, you know? I can’t really explain it. I won’t even try.

  Okay, he said.

  I need to borrow thirty dollars, she said.

  Fortunately, Chocolate came in just then, and Heavyset saw her and turned purple, so Tyler locked his arm around her, shouting: Why, Chocolate! Good to see you, doll! Can I buy you a beer?

  No, thank you, the whore announced. I’m black and this is a Mexican bar.

  Heavyset came over very slowly and said to her: Stop fucking with me.

  You ain’t right, she said.

  This is a Mexican bar, Heavyset explained. This ain’t a black bar.

  I’m tellin’ you, you ain’t right. An’ I saw how you called the cops on that white boy last week, that crackster john—

  Get out and don’t come back. And do your thing across the street. Don’t do it behind my bar.

  I live in this hood, Heavyset. You don’t be dissin’ me. I walk where I please.

  All right, Chocolate, just drop it, Tyler said. It’s not worth it.

  Somethin’ gonna happen to you, Heavyset, the whore said, ignoring him.

  Get your nigg
er ass out of here, said Heavyset. I control this area. This is my area. I got my brothers in here, and they’ll back me up if you start something with your coal black ass.

  You ain’t right. You ain’t right. But I don’t care, ’cause I got God and Cain in my heart.

  Nigger, nigger, nigger bitch!

  What did you call me? Oh, fuck it. Anyway, I have news for you. You got your false teeth out. Heavyset, you called me bitch with your teeth out!

  You’re gonna have buckshot in your fat nigger ass if you don’t get out of here.

  I’m not scared of that little pistol of yours, Heavyset. An’ your dick is even smaller.

  All right, Chocolate, break it up, said Tyler.

  He gonna get his, the whore said serenely.

  Get out, said Heavyset. Now. I’m calling the cops.

  Okay, Chocolate said far too sweetly. I’m goin’.

  She was up to something, Tyler thought. He went outside with her and she started crying and hitting him up for money. —I can only give you a buck, he said, slipping her five.

  | 380 |

  Chocolate said to the Queen: He be dissin’ me, an’ hurtin’ me in my heart so bad . . . and the Queen, preoccupied, shook her head, slowly cleaning her crack pipe with a dirty paper clip, and then Sapphire began to cry, weeping: L-l-l-luh-luh-luh . . . and then the Queen said: Allrightie now, child. All right. —But Sapphire would not be still. She crawled on her hands and knees to Chocolate and nuzzled against her knees like a cat. Chocolate stroked her. Then she crawled back to the Queen and began kissing her hand. She wanted to go out.

  Not now, baby, said the Queen. I gotta do some heavy thinkin’. Sapphy’s gotta wait. Bea, angel, you got time to take Sapphire out?

  She be out trickin’, said Chocolate. Guess I’ll go out there, too. I need my fix so bad.

  Allrightie then, said the Queen. Tomorrow I want to buy old Heavyset a drink.

  For what?

  Hush up, Choc. Queen’s gotta do some Heavy thinkin’. I want you to make Sapphire be quiet.

  | 381 |

  The Queen came into the Wonderbar on that hot August afternoon, the front door trembling behind her so that Loreena and Heavyset and their sparse crew of drinkers could see across the street and inside the bright whitewashed Mexican place where flames shot up from the grill and chopping sounds gladdened the longhaired guys waiting in line with clasped hands. Heavyset looked up with his usual dull viciousness, and then the door closed. A moment later, Sapphire scuttled nervously in, half-blinded by the cool darkness, piping: Luh-luh-luh . . .

  Heavyset said: What is this, a convention of niggers and retards?

  Loreena grimaced, and the Queen remained silent. But Heavyset could not let the matter drop. Deeply offended by the presence of these aliens, fearing them as much as he hated them (he would have literally suffered nightmares had the Chinese whore Yellow Bird ever shrilled into his face: You like to go kissy-kissy with me?), he bristled into a posture which was for him as natural as that of an antibody encountering in the dim red bloodstreams it frequented some unknown cell which threatened that ruby light of home and seemed to darken it into the inkiness of baleful sorrow. God never intended antibodies to resign themselves. For, after all, one stealthily reconnoitering bacillus must pose the question: What if there are more of me?

  And so Heavyset said with utter sincerity: You make me sick. Get out of my bar.

  Oh, leave her alone, said the Queen. Actually I’m here to have a word with you.

  You tellin’ me how to run my place? I don’t give a goddamn whether you buy drinks in here or not. This is my place, and if I want to eighty-six you I’ll eighty-six you.

  Sapphire turned her milky-pale face away, touched her palm to her mouth, then slowly lowered to the floor whatever invisible thing she’d taken out of herself.

  C’mere, Sapphire, darling.

  Get that retard out of here! said Heavyset, lifting his heavy hand from Domino’s thigh in order to sketch out a gesture of general imprecation, but then for the first time in his life he saw the Queen’s eyes glitter with anger and he was afraid. The Queen ran to the front door, opened it, and whistled piercingly. Instantly the tall man was there glaring through his bloodshot eyes. The Queen pointed to Heavyset, and the tall man, smiling with gratified hatred, approached rapidly and easily. Shoving Domino aside, Heavyset rose to his feet.

  You givin’ her static? the tall man said.

  This is my bar, nigger, said Heavyset. I control this bar. Better get out before they carry you out.

  Get behind the bar, Justin, said Domino. That’s where he keeps his gun.

  Why, you little cunt! roared Heavyset, and swung round to backhand her, but just then the tall man brought the end of a steel pipe hard down on Heavyset’s wrist so that his purple face turned white and he cried out. In the corner, Sapphire stood on tiptoe, gazing all the way into his face.

  Where’s the gun? the tall man said.

  Right there, said Domino. Under the cooler.

  Better fade, Loreena, said the tall man, not ill-humoredly. Just chill. Just ghost out. Don’t call the cops, though.

  Call the cops, bitch! screamed Heavyset.

  Loreena ran out the back door without looking back. Justin strode behind the bar and found Heavyset’s pistol. Heavyset sat down again, rubbing his wrist.

  Hey, break some bread, man, said Justin. Gimme some snaps.

  There ought to be more than a hundred bucks in the register, said Domino with a happy chuckle. I’ve been watching that register all afternoon and just . . .

  C’mere, Sapphire, the Queen whispered. It’s okay, darling. Domino, would you kindly take Sapphire to the ladies’ room?

  Key’s behind the bar, Justin, the blonde said, and the tall man tossed it to her. Then he opened the register and began stuffing all the money into his pants.

  Now shake Heavyset down, the Queen said in a low grinding voice. We don’t want Heavyset to forget what he done. We don’t want him to forget that he insulted a poor little girl that can’t defend herself. An’ Chocolate. An’ me. An’ God knows how many others.

  Gimme your wallet, asshole, said the tall man, waving the pistol up and down the length of Heavyset’s body.

  That’s right, said the Queen. That’s right. Heavyset, don’t be a fool.

  With a curse, the man flung his wallet down on the floor.

  Put it in the poor box, now, said the Queen. C’mere. That’s right. That’s right. Good dog. Turn out your pockets, doggie. Domino! Hurry up in there! Gun up, everybody! We all have to start runnin’ now . . .

  | 382 |

  After that the royal family was happy again for a while. Maj could still act. They all felt as if they were alive again.

  Justin, do I look good? asked Domino in her silver stretch leotards, wiggling her behind.

  You look fuckable, sure. Now go bring in some money.

  Oooh, she said, sarcastic-sulky, and began to walk away.

  Hey, Domino! called the tall man.

  Hey, what?

  I love you, baby!

  * * *

  •BOOK XXV•

  * * *

  The Truth

  •

  * * *

  To believe that things created by an incalculable series of causes can last forever is a serious mistake and is called the theory of permanency; but it is just as great a mistake to believe that things completely disappear; this is called the theory of non-existence.

  The Teaching of Buddha (from 5th cent. B.C.)

  * * *

  •

  | 383 |

  I love it because it’s Thursday afternoon and I’m sitting around screwing with this personal injury stuff, Smooth crowed. And indeed he did look happy. Tyler remembered the way Chocolate really came alive only in Tenderloin bars when the music was loudly perfect and color events occurred every second on the giant television screen, or the way that John’s face became joyous when he clicked down more lead from inside his stainless steel me
chanical pencil. —Almost as good as a good rape case, Smooth continued. When I do personal injury, I . . . You’re not listening.

  Sorry, said Tyler glumly.

  You know, I turned you on to somebody who does something fun. I turned you on to the Queen. And you owe me.

  Yeah, yeah.

  So open up those envious ears of yours. Or does everybody badger you all the time? Your brother does, I’ll bet. You’re so passive-aggressive that he must be active-aggressive.

  Go to hell.

  I’m the only person in the whole wide world who always speaks the truth. You know how to be sure it’s the truth? Because it’s ugly, man!

  So what’s your truth, then, you preening sonofabitch? What makes you so goddamned ugly? Oh, the hell with it; you always piss me off . . .

  My truth is doom, brother. Yours, too. We’ve both got the state hanging over our heads, and don’t think I don’t know about your sleazy corner-cuttings. Me, I’m waiting for that Gestapo knock on my door because I enjoy consensual sex with minors. And you, now, well, you have your brother ticking and smoldering away, you have financial worries (don’t think I can’t see that in the lines of your forehead), and you have Consumer Affairs watching over you . . .

  Oh, that’s baloney, Tyler said. I don’t know a single P.I. who ever lost his license.