Ancient Evenings (69 page)

“In such moments I could not taste the pleasure. Too full was my recollection of her face at the gates of Usermare. Warmth rose at the memory of her mouth on Him, and I was like a woman again, so rich was my pleasure, but nothing like a man—so little was I able to stir myself. And all this pleasure only turned around in me like oil that is never poured from a jar. I began to hate how clearly I could see her mouth on Him and even began to dislike her, that dull weight of her body, the odor beneath her arms as it came through the perfume. Like many another fat woman, it seeped out to the damp eaves.

“But on one night, after seven nights of failure, she said, ‘You live in His wrath. I will make a boat to rise above Him.’ Upon my closed eyelids, shut in weariness, and close to despair, she drew with her fingernail, lightly but firmly, the hull of a ship. In the darkness these lines were as clear to my closed eyes as fire. And as I saw each part of the ship, so did she say its customary name in her own voice, but reply with a whisper for the Secret Name. The sound of this second voice seemed to come out of the straining of the wood, the pull of the ropes, or the smack of the sail when the wind took it. I heard the groans of the oars in their locks, and did not dare open my eyes for fear I might lose the image of this vessel.

“I am the Keel,’ she said, and in the other voice, replied: ‘My Secret Name is Thigh of Isis.’ Then the first voice said, ‘I am the Rudder,’ and the answer came: ‘In my Name is Leg of the Nile.’

“The more closely I listened, the shorter became her speeches until she had to say no more than ‘Oars’ and the reply would come from the creaking of the boat itself: ‘Fingers of Horus.’

“Soon, she was speaking only to one ear, and I was hearing the Secret in the other. ‘Bow,’ said she, and ‘Chief of the Provinces’ was the response. ‘Sail,’ she said. I heard the whisper: ‘Sky’

“ ‘Tying Post,’ said Honey-Ball, which brought forth: ‘Dweller in the Shrine.’

“ ‘Pump,’ declared Honey-Ball, and then her own deep voice spoke out: ‘The-Hand-of-Isis-wipes-away-the-blood-of-Horus.’ With that, her hand took my poor dead snake and pumped it. Like a wind that touches the water as lightly as Your fingertips, so did the breath from her nose blow over the top of all she held in her hand, until at last she said, ‘Mast,’ and without moving, muttered, ‘Bring-back-the-lady-before-she-leaves.’ On those words, she put her mouth on the blunt head of my poor snake, but it was dead no longer and more like a wounded sword. Then as the boat moved forward in the water, so did her mouth ride up and down the waves, and I do not know if it was Ra I saw in my body, or the royal pleasure of Usermare, but she lay back, and pulled me over. It was so quick, I plunged. I even screamed. Fire and rocks threw me about, then cast me out of her as I came forth, but my boat flew over the edge of the sky. She was kissing my mouth. So I knew. My flesh had dared to enter where only a Pharaoh could dwell. I was still alive. So soon as Usermare read my thoughts, I would certainly be dead. Yet I had never taken a breath with such exaltation.

“But she drew the circle of Isis about my head—a double circle—and the gates to my mind were closed. ‘Go,’ she said, ‘and come back tomorrow.’ ”

FOUR

“No risk in the Battle of Kadesh was ever the equal of this,” said my great-grandfather, “for when the battle was over, it was done, but now I would be on guard every day of my life. No matter. I could not wait for the next night. Through all that morning, as I discharged the little duties that came my way, I was also possessed of a vigor which had me near to laying hands on several little queens. I felt as if I were still on the boat—or what was left of my boat!—and sailed with the sun.

“At evening, He arrived, so I could not see her. Usermare spent His time with other queens, but still I could hardly take the chance to visit Honey-Ball. His presence kept the eunuchs awake and stirring in every bush. Besides, the little queens were also listening to each sound. The night was like a dark ear. I could still have made the attempt, yet with Usermare only a house or two away, I might find myself as inert beside her as the heat of this darkness itself, and that shame I would not risk again. So, through the night, I had to hear His loud laugh, and the grunts that came from His throat. Like Ra, He was close to the beasts, and the Gardens were filled with the lion, the bull, the jackal, and the bark of the crocodile, even the high cry of a few birds and the cooing of a dove came from His throat. When I could not sleep, my pig came back again, and breathed on my groin.

“Next night, Usermare stayed away, and I was with Honey-Ball, and ready. So soon as we lay down, I was in her, so soon as she moved, I could not stop, and before her body was in a gallop, I had ridden through. This time it was I who heard the whimper, the cry, the small moan of rage, and the fall reverberating through her.

“Still, there was a difference most agreeable for me. Until this night, I had no more than to come forth and I was ready to flee her arms. Tonight, however, I wanted to do it again and, before long did, and it was better. At last I could feel master of my feelings. The knowledge that her mouth was a slave to Usermare gave me sufficient disdain of her (and of myself) to remain within my bounds, and most nicely, able to rock back and forth as if lolling on a boat, even to take her hips through the pounding waves, indeed, took her on a voyage of both our bodies through the river of the night until the small stirrings of every caged animal in her garden became like the sounds on the riverbanks, and even the mice in fascination ceased running through the cracks in the walls. I tried this art of kissing at which she was adept, and although she was but a few days removed from the taste of Usermare’s parts (which gave me a great revulsion insofar as He was a man) still He was also a God and nothing may issue from a God that is not fit for a feast, indeed it used to be said that our flesh is formed from Amon’s leavings, and perfume is the sweet smell of His corruption. So I was able then to keep turning between admiration and disdain, bringing myself back each time I was ready to go forth, and we galloped at the end in equal bounds, throwing each other about, and afterward felt true repose in the circle of our arms around each other, the little pig at me again, but most tenderly.

“From that night on, I could speak of a sweeter warmth. For I thought she was beautiful. Even the great weight of her hips spoke of the power of large beasts, and her waist had the vigor of a tree. I adored her back. It was strong and full of the wonderful muscle I used to feel in the haunches of Hera-Ra, and her arms were like the thighs of young girls and led me to her mouth which was honeyed. Honey-Ball’s thighs when I took them in each of my arms were as full of satisfaction as the waists of two young girls I might hold at once.

“Each time, then, I knew her better, and thereby underwent more misery on those evenings when Usermare came to visit. One night when He chose Honey-Ball in company with several little queens, the sounds of their pleasure so disturbed me that I came near to bursting in. Such an end would have been peaceful compared to the cruel state of listening. For I was crawling with ants in the hot baked desert of my heart.

“On the next evening, He was there again, but I could recognize the little queens’ voices and He had not chosen her. Uncertain whether to be pleased, or to despise her lack of charms to capture Him a second time, I overcame all caution, climbed her wall, entered her bed, and knew jealousy when she spoke. She told me she had been witness to all He did last night, yet entered none of it. When He asked why she stood before Him in such chastity, she said that she had been communing with demons in preparation for a holy ceremony, and wished to avoid the risk of attaching these unseen ogres—who might be near—to His divine flesh. When He asked the purpose of her ceremony, she replied that it was for the Life-Health-Strength of the Two-Lands. At which He grunted and said, ‘You could have chosen a better day,’ but asked no more.

“That was the story she told. I did not believe it. The night before, in my suffering, I had heard her laugh many times. Besides, Usermare had small patience toward anyone who could not please Him. When I was ready to tell her so, she put her fingers to my lips (though I promise you, we were speaking in tones next to silence itself) and whispered, ‘I said that if I did not touch His flesh on this night, I would be twice full of Him as a result.’ Honey-Ball giggled in the darkness. Although she had made the double circle of Isis about us many a time so that not one fleeting thought could depart into anyone else’s thought, still she did it again to protect us for laughing at Him. ‘What did He say?’ I asked.

“ ‘Oh,’ said she, ‘He told me He would pay double attention when next He looked at me,’ and with a bawdy grin, she spoke in the language of the streets, her mouth in my ear. ‘He said that since He was Lord of the Two-Lands and twice King of Egypt, He would have me by my cunt and my asshole.’

“And what did you say?’ I whispered.

“ ‘Great Two-House, it will take all of us to kiss You clean.’ He started laughing so hard He never stopped. It almost ruined His pleasure. That is the only way to speak to Him.’

“ ‘Will you do that?’ I asked.

“ ‘I will do my best to avoid it,’ she said, but with the same bawdy mirth on her mouth. I was tempted to strike her, but instead, I seized her foot.

“Now, no matter how else we held each other, she had never let me near them. They were tiny for so big a woman, that much I could see, tiny like the feet of her mother, reputed to be the most elegant among the rich and noble ladies of Sais, and delicate in her size. Honey-Ball told me that was the mark of a noble family, small feet, and when I asked why such delicacy was of importance, she looked at me with scorn. ‘If our hair is able to feel the whisper of the wind, we can have thoughts as delicate as birds,’ ‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘but by the balance of Maat, our feet should be sturdy like the earth.’ She laughed. ‘Spoken like a peasant!’ she said, and laughed again and opened the circle of her thumb and forefinger so that I could enter her thoughts. I now saw myself jiggling like a doll at the tip of Usermare’s sword. That made me angry enough to strike her, but I did not. She would never let me enter into her mind again. ‘Sweet Kazama,’ she said, ‘the deepest thoughts are held by the earth. Through our toes—if they are fine enough—enter the cries from the Land of the Dead.’

“Simple enough. A good reason for delicate feet. So I would never have touched them, if she had not mocked me again with her laughter. But that puppet who moaned and whimpered and jiggled on Usermare’s hook—I saw Him in the mirth of her mouth, and seized her foot.

“By the way she fought back, I knew at once I had committed some terrible act. But I was too busy wrestling to understand in all this silent fury (for we did not make enough commotion to wake one servant) that the foot I had grasped was the one with the missing toe. Then, since I held it with both hands, and she was kicking at my wrist and head with the other leg, it was all I could do to explore the poor missing place where the little toe had been, now as shiny to the tips of my fingers as the amputated nub on the wrist of a thief, yet so soon as I truly held it, I knew this rape was the only true seduction I would ever have of her, and feeling by now strong as a tree myself, I merely offered my skull to each of her kicks, while deliberately kissing this shiny little place. But my head was ringing so much from these blows of her leg that I saw her family pass before me in a noble boat, a golden panoply on the broad waters of the Delta, and then her fight was gone, and Honey-Ball burst into tears. Her sobbing became the loudest sound of the night in all these gardens, and it was as soothing to the heavy silence as the washing past of waters, for where was the house with a little queen who had not wept? Usermare would never be concerned with such a sound. Honey-Ball’s body became soft again, and I lay holding my captive foot and imbibed all the sorrow that came up from it, even the odor of the little caverns between her toes was sad, and so I knew with what misery she lived, and rose up at last and kissed her on the mouth to taste the same sorrow, ah, there was a feeling of tenderness in my chest such as I had never known before.

“From that hour I began to see her as a sister. We had a saying in my village. ‘You can sleep in a woman’s bed for a hundred years, but you will never know her heart until you care for her as a sister.’ I never liked that belief, I find no pleasure in sentiments that take care of matters forever, but now I believed I understood why Honey-Ball had grown so fat. One had only to touch the stump of her little toe, as I alone had done, to feel the loss within her—the nub of that toe was like a rock in a silent sea, and I could feel her thoughts beat upon it. So I came to learn how her feelings toward Usermare might have only a little love to mix with a hatred larger than mine. Holding her as she wept, her heart spoke to me, and we were of the same family—you could not find another man and woman in all of the Gardens or the Court as consumed as ourselves with the heat of revenge. It took two of us even to confess the one thought, and we did it with our breath, no other sound. Even from far away, His ears were as alive as the net to the bird, and you never knew when His nose might point toward an enemy so unwise as to say a curse aloud. Now, with the wisdom of my four lives, I can wonder at our audacity to share such dreams of revenge—why, if not for the circle of protection she put about our hearts, I think even the birds would have feared to stir.”