Doctor Sax (24 page)

Suddenly he spread his legs wide and opened his arms and yelled “God offers man in the palm of his hand dovelike seminal love, embowered.” There were confusions, the Dovist dungeons had been upheaved, Dovists were swarming around the parapet praying for Doves– In Sax they saw their mad liberator, their crazy hero–they heard his words. Joy! Sneers descended from the Wizard and his men. Everybody was hanging on to something now as the earth pulsed.

“What are the poor people of Lowell doing now!” I moaned—”They must be sounding the fire alarm from Lawrence clear to Nashua, they must be scared shitless,” I
thought. “Oh God I never knew that a thing like that could happen to the world.” I leaned on a stone, the Pit yawned below, I looked down to face my horror, my tormentor, my mad-face demon mirror of myself.

And so the Castle of the World was Snaked.

Because then I began to look, I said to myself “This
is
a Snake” and when the consciousness of the fact that it was a snake came over me and I began to look at its two great lakes of eyes I found myself looking into the horror, into the void, I found myself looking into the Dark, I found myself looking into IT, I found myself compelled to fall.
The Snake was coming for me!!
And I began realizing that slowly like a distant landslide of an enormous mountain what I saw was the torpid malicious monstrous flick of its green tongue and Venom. Screeches rose on all sides. The Castle Rattled.

“Ah the Great Power of the Holy Sun,” called Sax, “destroy thy Palalakonuh with thy secret works”— And he offered up his vial to the Snake. I see the contraction of his fingers as he begins to squeeze. Suddenly he staggered–as if faint he swooned and drooped in his poor shroud … then the powders which immediately burst into a beautiful explosion of blue mist, huge!, flupped up a big blue conical flame and showered in particle-clouds into the luminous red pit. Soon the whole pit was boiling with a green rage. His powders were most potent, his
pippiones
had brought strong leaves on feeble stick bones. The Snake seemed to shudder and groan in his confining-pit, the world tumbled over– Sax disappeared from my sight in a big heave. My eyes flew to the stars in the ceiling
of the Castle which was having its own night in broad daylight. I heartbroken saw the perfectly pure heaven softclouds sitting in their regular Sunday morning blue stands–early morning clouds, in Rosemont young Freddy Dube wasn’t up yet to go spend his day selling fruit and vegetables in the country, his sisters haven’t yet cleaned the crumbs from early-communion breakfast, the chicken was standing on the Funnies on the porch, the milk was in the bottle–Birds luted in the Rosemont trees, no idea of the horror I was dark and deep in across the warm rooftops. I was propelled in a great arc through my space. I got up and ran like hell and only fell down when I got tired, not when the earth shocked. A great screaming cleek of howk-horns made me turn–it was the Snake rising Nigh.

And there went the Castle collapsing. And there, out came the great mountainous snake head slowly seeping from the earth like a gigantic worm coming out of an apple, but with great licking green tongue spitting fires that were as big as the fires of the biggest refineries you’ve ever seen on man’s earth… Slowly, hugely piling out with the Castle spilling off its scales like scale itself– On all sides I could see tiny people flying in the air and bats and circling eagles and noise and confusion, showers of noise, things falling, and dust. Count Condu was in his box, was being skewered to Eternity in the coals of the Pit where he and ten thousand gnomes fell headfirst moaning–with Baroque, Espiritu, Boaz Jr., Flapsnaw, La Contessa, Blook the Monster, nameless countless others-Old Boaz ran down to the river, lassoed a piece of floating
something that was taking up the rear of the flood but very slowly and profoundly dragged him into the river–he had the misfortune of having tied the rope around his waist–nobody knows why, what it was– Dust of the uproars, dark world–

And suddenly I saw Doctor Sax standing behind me. He had taken off his slouch hat, he had taken off his cape. They were on the ground, limp black vestments. He was standing with his hands in his pockets, they were just poor old beatup trousers and he had a white shirt underneath, and regular brown shoes, and regular socks. And hawk nose–it was morning again, his face was back to normal color, it turned green only at night– And his hair fell over his eyes, he looked a little bit like Bull Hubbard (tall, thin, plain, strange), or like Gary Cooper. And he’s standing there saying “Goddam, it didn’t work.” His normal voice is rueful. “Funny thing is, I never knew that I would meet Judgment Day in my regular clothes without having to go around in the middle of the night with that silly cape, with that silly goddam shroudy hat, with that black face the Lord prescribed for me.”

He said “Ah you know, I always thought there’d be something dramatic in dying. Well,” he says, “I see that I have to die in broad daylight where I go around in ordinary clothes.” He had wrinkles of humor around his eyes. His eyes were blue and like big sunflowers in Kansas. There we are, on this poorass field, watching the tremendous spectacle. “The herb didn’t work,” he said, “nothing works in the end, you just–there’s just absolutely nothing —nobody cares what happens to you, the universe doesn’t
care what happens to mankind… Well, we’ll let it go at that, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

I felt sick. “Why can’t we have another–why can’t we have some more–why do we have to go through all this—”

“Well I know,” said Doctor Sax, “but—”

We both watched. Showers of black dust made a shroud of wings and droop-drape bierlike background in the clear sky like a thundercloud without sense, in the center of its darkness darkly and more high rose the Mysterious Head twirling and squirming with a dragon’s felicity, the hook and curl was sure alive. I could hear girls of eternity as if screaming on rollercoasters; over the water came the hysterical symphony honks of some sad excited commotion in the bustling bosom earth. Into the beautiful glary pale of giant massclouds that had come to cover the sun, leaving a snow White hole, rose the mighty venom headed Serpent of Eternity–clouds formed at his slowly emerging base. I sat on the ground completely stunned, legs spread. Unbelievably slow heaps of castle were flowing down the Mountain Head’s sides… Shuddering huge roars.

BUT SUDDENLY GRAY CLOUDINESS CAME
over–a swift darkness flew in from the South. Doctor Sax and I looked up into the sky. At first it was a massy thunderhead and then it was a strange flagellous maw cloud like a huge grooked hooded bird with a solemn beak, but unbelievable, not moving–

Then we realized that it was not a cloud, there in the blinding white sky of churchbells and wild disaster hung this huge black bird that must have been two or three miles long, two or three miles wide, and with a wing spread of ten or fifteen miles across the air–

We saw that it ponderously moved… It was such a big bird that when it flapped and flew with a mighty slowmotion in the tragic shrunken sky it was like watching waves of great black water going C-r-a-s-h with a heavy slowness against gigantic icebergs ten miles away, but up in the air and upside down and awful. And banners were streaming from its Feathers. And it was surrounded by a great horde of white Doves, some of them belonging to Doctor Sax–
Pippiones, pippiones,
the young and silly doves! And the great shadow fell over everything. Our eyes were amazed by the luminescent waving banners still wrangling in the wrong haze yet retaining flashes of the sun in them on the shade side of the Bird —how tremendously these gorgeous feathers of Heaven gleamed and drew Aaaahs and Awwws of hope in the people below who were privileged to be there. It was the Bird of Paradise coming to save mankind as the Snake upward protruded insinuating itself from the earth. Oh its huge grave beak!—its mewing wave leak, the architectural pisses falling, enormous structures of wing and joint, and gone All-Hosannah Golden fowl-flesh curly-ongs in his vast assembled flight–Nobody, not Sax, me, the Devil’s assistant or the Devil himself could keep from seeing the horror and the power roaring in upon this phrale of Lowell. Tortured earth, tortured snake, tortured evil, but
this Implacable Bird, with the same huge creaky movement, a million myriad feathers slowly waving in its own breeze, turned down, hood-eyed. Masters of the Hood were there, frowning. As I looked up at that descending World of Bird I felt more fear than I’ve ever felt in all my life, infinitely worse than the fear when I saw the Snake, I instantly remembered the Big Bird I played with my hands chasing the Little Man when I was five years old–the Little Man was about to be caught and his name was Satan– This could not be Judgment Day! There was still hope!

The Snake, as if torn to turn in its own agony and fire to see what haps beyond in that burgoyne air just penetrated and become–and though having no eyes but blindness–the Giant Serpent did accomplish a green tongue licking at the sky with a huge slowmotion futility, I heard and felt a sigh cross the field-

Down came the Bird, slowly, wings at ease, descending with majesty and unbelievable with slow immense ringlets of gilded broadsides, black as Jonah, thunderous-faced, mute beaked.

And just as the Snake had wound itself out to coil once around the rim of the Parapet and was trying to ease his ass out a hundred miles of hugeness and slime–the mighty green coil turned in the sun slithering with underworld masses and vapors, whole slivers of evil cakes toppled from the Snake’s side and fell in the turmoil of its unfoldment– Things fled in terror from that vicinity, it shot out its own cannon clouds of detonation and disaster–and all the whole river was blackened–

Just as this happened–the Great Black Bird came down and picked it up with one mighty jaw movement of the Beak, and lifted it with a
Crack
that sounded like distant thunder, as all the Snake was snapped and drawn, feebly struggling, splashing sweat-

Lifted it in one gigantic movement that was slow as Eternity-

Heaved skyward with its ugly burthen– Rollypolly mass of snake, curlicue, thrashing in every way upon the imprint heavens of poor life–how could anything take it in its beak–

And raised up into the bedazzling blue hole of heaven in the clouds as all birds, eagles, feather brains, sparrows and doves Squakked & Yakked in the golden bell ringing morning of the Curlicue, the wild May Time rope was being thrown across the Belfry, the bell was clanging with a ding dong, the Lord rose on Easter morning, daisies rejoiced in fields beyond the churches, almighty peaces settled in the clover–up rose the huge monstrosities that have left our Spring! Our Spring is free to fallow and grow wild in its own green juices.

Off–up—up the bird rises farther, diminishes into the original Giant Bird Cloud, up into the sky I look and I look and can’t believe the feathers, can’t believe it, can’t believe the Snake– The sailing objects in that distant Up are peaceful and very far–they are leaving the earth–and going into the ethereal blue–aerial heavens wait for them —they specken and grow dotty–calm as iron, they seem to have an air of funniness the smaller they get– The sky is too bright, the sun is too mad, the eye can’t follow the
grand ecstatic flight of Bird and Serpent into the Unknown–

And I tell you I looked as long as I could and it was gone–absolutely gone.

And Doctor Sax, standing there with his hands in his pockets, his mouth dropped open, uptilted his searching profile into the enigmatic sky–made a fool of–

“I’ll be damned,” he said with amazement. “The Universe disposes of its own evil!”

That bloody worm was ousted from his hole, the neck of the world was free–

The Wizard was dissatisfied, but the neck of the world was free–

I have seen Doctor Sax several times since, at dusk, in autumn, when the kids jump up and down and scream —he only deals in glee now.

I went along home by the ding dong bells and daisies, I put a rose in my hair. I passed the Grotto again and saw the cross on top of that hump of rocks, saw some old French Canadian ladies praying step by step on their knees. I found another rose, and put another rose in my hair, and went home.

By God.

Written in Mexico City,
Tenochtitlan, 1952
Ancient Capital
of Azteca