by Leo Nation
“How can we do that?”
“First we can dump hateful ideas. We can start by accepting the fact that we are all related on this dinky little planet. We should use our true relationship as our standard of behavior. Love is an active verb, Jonathan. I think we can do better”
“If we can only see the problem,” I said.
“If you have a single thought that is not supporting intelligent life, you should not give it a place in your mind. It’s time to weed the garden. We have to get rid of partial beliefs that are not life sustaining.”
“That’s huge,” I said. “I’m depressed.”
“I have hope, Jonathan.”
“Really?”
“I am very hopeful. People are changing all over the world. It’s happening now. I expect a true sense of reason to be discovered soon.”
“What do you mean?”
“The philosopher Spinoza said that reason is a total response to the whole situation. I like that. I think he was on the mark. His description means to be rational is to be whole, which means, you can respond to reality only with a whole mind. You can’t leave things out of awareness and be a whole human being. Responding to fragments of life with bits of old conditioning affirms you as a fractional person. Most people don’t think of reason this way. They see it as a form of logic. I see it as a value to be achieved, because it is urgently needed; it makes us whole as it takes us to the next step.”
The scene before us was pleasantly spiced with sounds of beautiful people walking the beach. Their diversions made me feel like a participant in a society of good people. I leaned forward and set my elbows on my knees as I looked up at a beautiful pair of suntanned legs.
“I have hope for another reason.”
“What is that, Adam?”
“Parents love their children. When they realize that they give their children cognitive unconscious structures that will guide them as adults, they will see themselves as architects of our future identity.”
“They have to notice that, first.”
“I think they will.”
“Then what?”
“Then, Jonathan, we’ll be off and running with a generation that can function without the kind of baggage their parents were given. I expect a psychic explosion of conscious evolution.”
“That might delay doomsday,” I replied.
“Parents love their kids, Jon. That urge is so strong it can even overcome conditioning taken in when they were children, because they love their kids that much. When parents understand how children absorb and retain practically everything they are given and take it with them into their adult lives, they will stand firm for their freedom.”
“That would be great.”
“I think it’s the next big thing,” he laughed. “Get ready for a big adventure.”
“Life is good, Adam.”
I leaned back to look at the horizon as he added this: “The universe took nine billion years to create a single cell of life. According to that system things are moving right along.”
“Sounds good to me.”
The woman in the red cloth coat lying in the roped-off rectangle lifted her head.
“I recognized you the minute I saw you, Jon. I said to myself, that’s my cosmic playmate.”
“I feel honored.”
Adam sent me a high-five and we smacked our hands together.
“I’m glad I made that call,” I said.
∞ 27 ∞
Looking at a multitude of glittering stars in a distance so deep and so dark it seems really inconceivable, I feel a lot like a bug on a beach trying to get out from under an oncoming wave. Full of emotion I turn from the grand scene with a sense of poignant melancholy. I feel empty. The boys are gone—they are all gone.
I can accept this but it’s not easy.
I miss them already.
Nevertheless, I do know we did the right thing. It was meant to be. It was time. Feeling a lonely ache in my stomach, I suppose Woman feels much the same way.
We turn together and walk into darkness, back the way we came. She lays her head on my shoulder and I slip a hand around her waist. After a while we stop and look back at the end of the swaying tunnel. We look at each other and smile. I kiss her cheek, and the smell of her breath puts a shiver in my spine.
“I’d like to settle down with you,” I say.
“That would be nice,” she whispers.
“I mean right now.”
“We should keep going,” she says. “You want to see daylight.”
“Yeah, but now I’m interested in you.”
“There will be time.”
“How do you know?”
“Have faith,” she laughs.
“Why don’t we—”
“Whoa!” she cries as the world drops from under us. Her head bangs my chest as we hit bottom.
“Ouch!” I blurt.
“Sorry!” she cries.
“Are you all right?”
“I think so,” she says, trying to untangle.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine.”
I lift her arm over my head as I try to stand. It is dark. I reach out and feel a hand in mine; a gentle tug brings her up next to me.
“This wasn’t here before,” she says.
A bare breast slides along my bicep, and my heart reaches for a Latin rhythm.
She pulls my hand. “This way.”
She sets my hand down on something smooth and warm. I can’t see it but it could be a velvet disc. “Turn it this way,” she says.
I lay my hands with hers and we turn, listening to precision sounds inside the door as it opens.
“Ow!” I object as pointed light pierces my eyes. “Damn!” I add.
“Oh!” cries Woman. “This hurts.”
“Too much,” I say.
“Let’s go,” she replies.
As we walk into glaring white light, my eyes still hurt. I can catch only a glimpse now and then. We stumble toward a white spiraling staircase rising into pure white light.
“Come on,” Woman says, letting my hand go. I wonder how she can be so calm as we set our hands down on a brass rail between us and go up the stairs. Sharp photons jab my eyes every time I glance up.
Woman stops about halfway.
She turns and brings her hands to my face.
She gives me a kiss and adds a slight moan, which evokes another thrill dancing in my chest. What is this amazing creature up to now? I feel so in love with her I’m afraid I could just disappear.
“Ooh!” she whispers sweetly.
That does it.
I know what I want, ultimate intimacy, and right now. I take in her breath and feel like the center of the universe. All of the love in the world is in me. I slide my hands over her shoulders, and her body subtly responds. It’s almost imperceptible but not quite. It is enough to let me know she’s willing. Desire blossoms in my brain.
“This banister is in the way,” she whispers.
“I know, damn it. I love you.”
She laughs, “Are you unhappy?”
“Oh, no—no, no, no! Meet me at the top.”
She grabs my face and kisses me. Her tongue flashes into my bewilderment, and I hear logs crackling in a cozy cabin somewhere in the North Country of my mind. I’m astounded by another unlikely mental image: A wild-eyed, bone-in-the-nose medicine woman is preparing to use me for carnal pleasures. My heart thumps like an indigenous drum as I watch crusty red rivers of smoky passion burn foliage on their way down to the edge of a mountain. Orange lava plummets into an ocean.
I kiss her neck and nibble on a thrill.
“Meet me at the top,” she cries.
“Yes,” I reply. “Yes!”
We race up the stairs to the top and clasp hands in a single breath. Joyfully, we walk out into bright sunlight.
“This is …”
“Too much!” I cry.
“… Wonderful!” she shouts.
“Damn!” I say
, closing my eyes again.
“Thank you!” she cries to the sky.
I feel like a mole tossed into the light of day. Staggering forth with tears in my eyes I open my arms as I turn loving the world I see.
The air around us seems to include microscopic flecks of gold; the whole atmosphere seems to be vibrating with a sanctified sort of special tinted light. The air is clear and clean and shimmers like the light above an Aegean beach.
I inhale deeply and I laugh, “I love you!”
“I know!” Woman warbles.
“It’s like the first sunrise,” I say.
“The first ever,” she answers.
“It’s like being new.”
“Yes!”
I look down at my baggy tuxedo trousers, and I laugh as I slip my thumbs under my suspenders and slide them over my shoulders. They fall to my elbows. I let them drop and my trousers fall. I look around at this enchanted world. I step away from my fallen clothes and run around happily naked.
“I like you better with your pants off,” Woman laughs.
I turn spreading my arms like an eagle flying over the Rocky Mountains. No matter where I look the world is inviting.
“I like you like this,” Woman repeats.
“You are so smart!” I laugh.
I look over her shoulder at a stand of tall trees on a hilltop. As Woman looks up at the sky, I follow her gaze to a pair of soaring, white-crested birds. I watch them circle with effortless ease.
“Look over there!” she cries.
“What is it?”
“It’s incredible!”
“A pot of gold!” I gasp.
“Thirty feet high!” she adds, with a laugh.
A huge cauldron of gold bulges in all directions at the top of the hill.
It contains gold coins stacked above the rim. Woman and I step back to confirm. Standing awestruck, she peers under the flat of her hand as I watch her pretty lips form a silent word of wonderment.
“I can’t believe this,” I say.
“Look down,” she says.
“Where?”
“Above the stairs.”
“I see a door.”
“Just above the door.”
“A light bulb—in a cage.”
She laughs and I remember the promise on the staircase. “Let’s do it,” I suggest.
“What could you possibly mean?”
“You know.”
“Tell me.”
“Well, I admit, I feel a bit rusty.”
“As moldy as a mummy and twice as crummy,” she says.
“Now, wait a minute.” I look up. “Jesus!”
“What now?” she asks.
“That damn pot!”
“What about it?”
“It looks like a landed spacecraft. I can’t ignore it. I’m stuck in a Chinese finger puzzle.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“I’m squeezed either way.”
“That is a dilemma,” she laughs.
A muscle twitches between my eyes. “A minute ago I knew what I wanted; now I don’t.”
“Let’s look inside,” Woman says.
“I don’t want to miss anything.”
“You already have.”
∞ 28 ∞
Woman and I go up to the great gold pot.
We climb three short stairs to a convex door in the vessel and we stand in silence. I reach for a big flat disc in the center of the door; as I turn it something clicks inside. Woman and I step back as the door comes open.
We walk in.
A strange scent of working flesh mixed with a smell of old wood hangs in the air. The door closes on its own behind us, leaving light outside. Now in this dark space we can just see faint images of people scurrying like passengers to a train. Another small group of people whispers in passing the other way. The air around us seems to bristle with anticipation.
A human shadow standing in front of us pulls open a curtain. After a long moment the heavy fabric falls together again. I turn and see a dim walking silhouette talking to nobody. We are not noticed. I’m beginning to think we are standing backstage in a theatre.
“Oh!” Woman’s says close to my ear.
Another separation in the curtain lets some house light dip in. As the curtains open up the man exits to the side.
A bright spotlight drops to center stage.
A gathering of smiling chorus girls enters the spear of light with slender legs kicking high. Dancing across the stage to music a pretty row of females comes toward Woman and me. I don’t see a band, but music fills the dark space around us. A short man in a shining vest under a black jacket steps into the spotlight.
He wears a tuxedo with a red-white-and-blue satin vest and a sparkling bow tie of navy blue. A squat bowler hat sits on his head. His black shoes are shining patent leather. The little man tap-dances along a crescent of dancing girls moving slowly in the opposite direction.
The spotlight shines on the little man, who taps the floor with a shiny silver-tipped black cane. He lifts it to the brim of his derby hat, taps it once, and with a great smile he nods to the audience.
He turns and dances upstage.
His face is painted shiny black on one side while the other side is chalky white. His fingers alternate glossy black and opaque white, like piano keys. The little guy lifts his shoulders as he dances around his cane like a vaudevillian on the circuit.
The crowd cheers and applauds.
He glimpses us and smiles as he turns away. His dance seems to be a tribute to everyone who ever worked in his profession, all the dancers and singers of all times in all places. The little entertainer raises his arms inviting applause. The house obliges with a thunderclap of pure approval.
The performer lets his cane slide through his fingers, and he taps the floor. As he dances around the stick an adoring fold of females nestles close to him. He laughs through two colors on his face, and leaning to one side, he makes a dramatic gesture as if listening for something. Laughter bubbles in the house as he taps to the edge of the stage through brassy rhythms.
He drops to one knee.
He opens his arms in flashing lights.
And he sings:
“I’d walk a million miles
For one of your smiles …
My … Maa … aa …aah … meeh!”
Somebody hollers “Hooray!”
Somebody else cries, “Bravo!”
Another screams, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
The little guy blinks at the lights. He doffs his derby hat and bows. Cheers surge in the great hall. The little man is a huge hit. He holds his hands over his heart, bows slightly, and touches the brim of his hat with his cane, like a pint-sized Maurice Chevalier.
The energy in the theatre rises to a new level. I turn to Woman’s pretty face. She appears to be bedazzled by his carefree performance. Moving like a man under water, he kicks the bottom of his cane, and swings it around slowly as he ambles upstage.
A woman with long legs and black mesh stockings strolls across the stage. Moving like a professional dancer she reaches out and takes his cane. The little man pushes his derby hat to one side of his head at a rakish angle, and he blinks. I notice that his eyelids are painted white and black in contrast to the colors on his cheeks.
An upright piano slides into the spotlight, and an old piano stool arrives just in time to catch his downward descent. He leans forward and a microphone glides across the piano board in front of him. He closes his eyes in the bright light as he plays and sings:
I laughed
Like a loon
As I fell off the moon,
A scratch in his voice is husky and dark…
The Man
Had jus’ tickled
My funny bone, see?
His hands roam the keyboard as he polishes the stool with his tuxedo trousers. He seems to play all the notes. He opens his eyes, grimaces at the light, and bawls like a stranded calf…
When I bounced
On the planet!
I was bound to be free….
“Yes!” someone shouts from the back.
And then I turned around,
Looked up and found
A joke … falling on me!
Cornets add ecstatic sounds to the mix of music and syncopated rhythms. Behind his raspy voice, there is joy in his woe:
I awoke
In a world
Of vacant stares…
Beads of sweat glisten on his painted face.
Where angry
Teeth-flashing
Tempers flared…
Where boozy smoke
And bad religion…
Anointed my yoke
In Original Sin!
A sassy trumpet speaks to the little entertainer. He shakes his head and sings.
So, I stayed … low …
Stuck some distance between me
And that soft-hearted bucket
Of tears I could not free!
Scraping the edge of his range he proceeds:
A mil-len-ni-um moped by.
I never learned how to cry.
I’m just a four-year-old macho man
Livin’ … a … lie!
As the little guy arrives at the last note, the musicians glide into a California cool jazz conclusion. Glassy-eyed, and shaken by his soulful lament, the singer waves over the piano at the audience. He doesn’t seem to be altogether there as the energy rises higher. The little singer turns as he stands up and glances at us again. He offers his audience a sincere bow and his head twitches around to face us.