Ice And Fire

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Ice And Fire Page 7

by Andrea Dworkin


  We are tired. We sleep.

  We wake up in early afternoon. The heat is stifling. Today

  we are going to take the special acid we have been saving, N

  and me and poor R. I am excited. N says first she has to meet

  the guy from last night. She promised him. She just wants

  forty-five minutes alone with him. He comes in the dead heat

  of the afternoon. In the glaring heat of the sun he is still cold,

  glistening, mean. He wears a suit. He wears a tie. He has on a

  clean shirt, buttoned up to the top. His shoes are polished. His

  face is set, he doesn’t try to smile, he has no expression, he

  doesn’t sweat. Standing up he is towering, dangerous, cold. N

  is happy to see him, reserved, courteous. I am bewildered and

  afraid. I just want to fuck him, she says quietly to me. We

  have dropped the acid. He is dangerous, I say. What are you

  49

  going to do when you start tripping? He will be gone by then,

  she says. One fuck, then he will go. I wait outside like she tells

  me to. They go into our storefront. I expect to hear screams. I

  hear nothing. I strain to hear but I hear nothing. Forty-five

  minutes later they come out. Nothing has changed with him.

  Suit. Tie. Clean shirt, buttoned up. Polished shoes. No expression. Still not sweating. N is glassy-eyed, creamy, content.

  I got what I wanted, she said. Whad ya do in there, I ask,

  casual but really scared, worse now since I see no sign of human

  emotion or exertion in him. Just fucked, she says. He is not a

  man who fucks. I can see that. He may kill but he doesn’t

  fuck. Either the needle or he tied her up. I am pretty sure. She

  is wearing a blouse with long sleeves, not her usual T-shirt. I

  don’t see her naked for the next few days. Even as the street

  begins to slide and whirl, I know that there are bruises on her

  arm from one thing or another. I don’t exactly know the word

  sadist but that is what I think he is anyway. I strain for the

  word without finding it but I know what I mean. I am scared.

  She is satisfied. I never see him again. I think he kills people.

  Most of the violent men we see are sloppy, one way or another.

  Their violence sort of oozes out. This man is a perfect diamond

  cutting through glass.

  *

  There are the layers, the dumb, slobbering junkies, oozing pus

  and grief, dealing a little, stealing, falling down on top of whatever doesn’t move fast enough; there are bastards a little colder, still oozing, and the pimps, who drool. There is a ladder of

  street slobber, so that the violence gushes out like tears or

  drips like a leaky faucet, but it is a mistake, not cold, ruthless

  art: as much accident as intention, not coldly calculated and

  perfectly executed. Then there is this other level. No fear. No

  ooze. No slobber. No exhibitionism. No boast. Nothing except

  serious intention, perfectly conceived and coldly executed, an

  interior of ice and a perfect economy of motion.

  *

  What has he done to her? The acid begins to grip and she will

  not say anyway. Poor R had left when she heard N was inside

  with a man. N is politely, resolutely silent. She will not budge.

  We are worlds apart and the subject is closed. Then we are

  awash in acid and beyond all human argument. We begin to

  50

  roam the magnificent city streets and to play like children in

  their decaying monumental splendor. We range over these

  grand cement plains like wild animals, we dance up mountains

  fleet of foot, we rush down rivers dancing on the silver light of

  the rapids: each sight and sign of squalor is dazzling and

  unique: there is no language for this and sadist is a word even

  when you can’t quite find it: and each and every human form

  shimmers in light and motion: the cold, cold man is more than

  gone or forgotten: there is no place in the universe for him: he

  is behind us now and time is a river, rushing on. The cement is

  a luminous rainbow of garish silver and blinding white coming

  out of the gravel, rising up like a phoenix from it: gold mixes

  into the stone from the heat and the scarlet from the blood is

  brilliant and intensely beautiful.

  The air is spectacular, daylight, light that dances, a million

  shining fragments of light like tiny speckled stones: you could

  reach out and touch them except instead you walk between

  them, skirting their shiny surfaces, never feeling their glossy

  round edges. You reach out your arm to touch a piece of light

  and your arm stretches into the distance, it has the curves of a

  gracious hill and subtle valley and your fingers slide gracefully

  past each other, one then another then another, and they are

  gracefully curved, like a valley between two hills, a slight curve,

  slack but aesthetic and delicate. And the tips of your fingers

  touch the light and dance, dance.

  The red from the traffic light spreads out through the air, it

  is circle on circle of diffusing red light, it is like a red light in

  the sky and with the sun behind it, it becomes fierce and hot.

  The streets are endless arcades filled with gentle refuges. There

  are stores where they greet you warmly, hippie boys all hairy

  and with wet eyes, and give you tea and have you sit and offer

  you smoke: and you laugh and laugh: or are deadly solemn:

  and there is sitar music and you get lost on each note and drift

  until the hot tea is in your hand: and you come back, treated

  like a holy traveler, an honored guest, by the warm hairy

  strangers. You look at the colored beads and the huge drawings

  of tantric intertwinings on the walls: and you are home here

  on earth, taken care of, given refuge: until you move on, the

  acid pushing you, the pulse somewhere calling you.

  51

  Outside it is dark now, and you roam through the streets

  until dawn when you watch the light come up. There are people

  you touch, their faces, their tongues, you slip behind cars or

  into doorways or spread out on suddenly available floors,

  mattresses that seem to just be there waiting for the simple

  traveler with legs that spread all wet. You smoke and smiling

  people hand you pills and you swallow them because nothing

  can hurt you now: and you stop cars with your acid smile: and

  communicate with your acid brain: and you watch something

  you could never look at before, a huge roach, a dead rat, and

  you are awed by its monstrous beauty.

  Your sweat simply melts you and you take off your clothes

  somewhere with someone and you come and come and come:

  and laugh: and fuck: and smoke: and drink: and run, run, run:

  and smile: and the music is everywhere, in the traffic, in the

  rumbling of the heavy trucks, in the sirens, in the screeching

  wheels of police cars, in nasty motorcycles and in the sucking

  sounds of the dirty men who whisper cunt when you walk by.

  And you talk, intensely. The universe. Reality. Light. Truth.

  Time. Dawn comes and you are hungry. You are coming down.

  You smoke. You sit on a stoop, tired and content. A man

  walks by. You
ask him for breakfast. He takes you to one of

  the all-night restaurants run for the likes of you on the Lower

  East Side. The rabble are eating, all tired, all fucked out, all

  drugged out. It is beautiful, serene. You get orange juice and

  blintzes and sour cream and eggs and toast and coffee. The

  man waits. Hey mister, you say laughing, wanna buy us

  breakfast? He nods. Now you sit and eat and he watches. Now

  you are full. Now he pays the bill. Now you say, hey, mister,

  wanna fuck? You are still zinging on the acid a little but mostly

  it is over: back to business: of course mister wants to fuck.

  *

  N and I sit on the stoop in front of poor R ’s apartment. The

  light is just beginning. The dark is lit up from inside. The acid

  is beginning to soften, to lose its grip. We are still wavy, still

  floating, still charged, still porous, bodies floating in light and

  air: but personality is beginning to creep back in: we know

  who we are and where we are: we know that dawn is on its

  way: we know that we are hungry and have to eat: we know

  the acid is going: we know the night is over and the trip is over

  52

  and pedestrian day is nearly here: we sit watching the dark

  becoming lighter and lighter: we sit watching a dead rat at the

  curb: it is indisputably a rat, not God: poor R is sleeping inside,

  she won’t let us in, she won’t make us breakfast, we are excommunicated, we are happy, we are turned loose to look for breakfast elsewhere: we sit there, buddies, and chat in the dark:

  we walk around: we touch fingers and briefly hold hands.

  *

  N and I sit on a stoop in St M ark’s Place. Hey mister. We are

  hungry. The acid is wearing off. The smoke has given us

  ravenous appetites. We are tired. Hey mister. Some misters

  pass. This one mister takes us to breakfast. He is silent,

  watchful, not easy to disarm. Mister turns out to be not such

  an easy fuck. N fucks him and falls asleep. Mister doesn’t

  sleep. Mister probably hasn’t slept in months. Mister is nuts. I

  get Mister for hours. N sleeps like a log.

  *

  Mister is white, lean, wiry, crew-cut, muscled, tense, wired to

  go off. A coil ready to spring. Full of inexplicable rushes of

  violence. He fucks like he hates it. It never gets him anywhere.

  He concentrates, he fucks. You can’t feel much except his concentration. He is doing some martial art of the thighs, over and over, trying to make it perfect, get it right: it doesn’t touch

  him: then the violence pours through him, impersonal, and he

  is in a frenzy of fuck: then, more tense but calmer, he concentrates, he fucks. Eventually I sleep. I don’t know how or why.

  When I wake up it is nearly night again. He is taking us to

  the beach. The heat here in the storefront is scalding; treacherous, wet steam. Our skin is raw and burning. Our clothes are wet. Our eyes are almost swollen shut. It is hard to breathe.

  Heat hurts our lungs. Mister has a car. He is giving us dinner.

  We are going with him to the beach.

  He drives like a maniac, but we only feel the breeze. The car

  barely touches the road. It swerves. We leave the city behind.

  The air gets less hot. We see the city lights trailing behind us

  as we swerve and curve in the airborne car. We cool down

  enough to be afraid.

  The car stops, and there is a beach and an ocean. It is endlessly deserted. There are no cars. There are no people. There is a full moon and it is nearly light on the beach. The water

  53

  shines. It advances up against the beach. The waves are small

  and delicate. The ocean is tame but it goes on forever. It goes

  out as far as we can see, way past the moon. We are on the

  beach. Mister wants some sex. N whispers to me that she can’t

  fuck, she is bleeding again. All summer she has had this mysterious bleeding. I tease her that she wants to get out of fucking this creep. But still: she is bleeding, not menstruation, hemorrhaging: she can’t be fucked. She and I make love for him on the beach. It is not enough. He is wired, tense, has spasms of

  violence, shows us his knife. N holds me down from behind,

  both arms. He turns away one minute, a modest gesture unzipping his fly. She grins ear to ear. I try to get loose watching her grin. She is strong and I can’t. She holds me down. He

  pulls down his pants. He fucks me. I get dressed. N and I sit

  and watch the ocean. N and I sit and watch the moon. He

  goes off by himself. A cop comes along. What are you doing

  here? Watching the ocean officer. It’s dangerous here at night

  girls. Thanks officer. We walk up to the car. The cop moves

  on. Mister jumps up from behind the car, plays with his knife.

  Mister takes us for lobster, he is silent and watchful, he doesn’t

  eat, then Mister drives us home.

  *

  We get out of the car. The beach is there. The ocean is there.

  The moon is full. We see the ocean with the moon hanging

  over it. Mister is wired. Mister tells us he has a gun in the car

  under the front seat. Mister tells us he hates his wife. Mister

  tells us he is going to kill the bitch. Mister tells us his wife has

  tried to get away from him. Mister tells us his wife was walking

  down a street and he beat the bitch to pieces and pulled a

  knife on her. How could his wife do that, we say, not knowing

  what she did. We go on to the beach.

  *

  The beach is a little scummy, empty cans and empty bottles,

  paper, trash. The sand is a little dirty. N and I undress each

  other. We kiss. We make love standing up. He wants us in the

  sand. We make love in the sand. She dresses. He shows a knife.

  She holds me down. I am flat on my back naked on the beach.

  She is behind me. I look up into her face. She grins. It is her

  comradely grin. But I try to get loose and can’t. She is strong.

  She is holding me down. It is our charade, but I can’t get

  54

  loose. He fucks me. He disappears. I brush the sand off but I

  am all gritty. I get dressed fast. N and I sit and watch the

  ocean. N and I sit and watch the moon. The cop comes. He

  tells us girls could get hurt alone on the beach at night. We are

  panicked that Mister left without us. The car is still there. We

  walk to it. We get in covered with sand. I can taste sand in my

  mouth. Mister buys us lobster. He sits and watches, all tight

  and coiled. He drops us at the storefront. Inside we drink iced

  tea and sleep entirely embracing each other. We sleep and kiss

  like it’s one thing, wound round each other like the gnarled

  branches of an ancient tree. She has stopped bleeding. The

  sand rubs and rubs, hurting a little, we are drenched in sweat,

  we sleep and fuck at the same time, not letting go.

  *

  Have you ever seen the moon, full, rising behind the head of a

  man fucking you on a dirty beach? Have you ever heard the

  ocean, lying flat on your back, your arms behind you, held

  down, have you heard the sound of the ocean behind him, have

  you looked up to see her broad grinning face? Have you ever

  felt the sand, dirty and a little wet, all over, and kissed her

  thighs and the sand? Have you ever kissed a bleeding woman

&nb
sp; everywhere and tasted dirty sand and then watched moonlight

  fall on a knife and been naked in the sand while he fucked

  you, the full moon behind him, the sound of the ocean behind

  him, and your wrists weighed down by lead, her knees on top

  of your arms as she caressed your breasts while he fucked like

  doing push-ups, but the full moon is very beautiful and the

  sound of the ocean is very fine?

  *

  And then, alone, have you needed each other so bad that you

  slept and fucked at the same time, the whole time you were

  sleeping, what others call night, so close, so entangled, melted

  together, wrapped around each other, sand biting your skin

  rubbing in the sweat: and been at peace, happy, with time

  stopped right there?

  *

  The narrow mattress on the painted floor is drenched through

  with sweat, and the sand pricks like sharp, tiny bites, hurting,

  and the room is dark and airless, and we are wound together,

  sleeping as we fuck: a somnambulant intercourse: wet and hot,

  55

  barely on the verge of consciousness and not yet dream: the

  heat turning it into delirium: for all the hours of a human

  night.

  *

  We wash. N goes to use poor R ’s shower. She has broken the

  letter of the law but will not tell. The promise was made when

  N loved her. Now she doesn’t. The shower is redundant in the

  wet heat but it will get rid of the sand. I stand in our kitchen,

  it is dark even though sunlight blankets the earth outside the

  iron bars covering the kitchen windows: I look first through

  the grating over the doors and windows into the backyard to

  see if the neighborhood boys are there: they stare in, bang on

  the windows, bang on the doors: we try not to undress in front of

  them. I fill a big pot full of water. It comes out of the tap

  sweaty. I dip an old washcloth in and out of the pot and rub it

  disconsolately all over. Then I do the same again, using soap,

  but not too much, because you can never quite get it off. Then

  I do it again with clean water. Then I am ready.

  N comes back clean. She has not told, I can tell. We both

  broke our promise to poor R. The beach was within the law;

 

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