The Country of Ice Cream Star (35 page)

‘They ain’t going to hurt you,’ I say frighten. ‘Ain’t be.’

He shake his head. Blink where sweat gone dripping in his eye.

‘Nay,’ I say, ‘we living yet. I be soldat for you, you good. You good.’

He make some fever smile. ‘You my soldat.’

‘Nay, they ain’t going to hurt you.’ I look around for Soledad, but she still crouchen in the road. Her hand be forward in the feather’s blood. My eyes flinch back from this, I say more desperate, ‘Truth. I got word, Pasha.’

He lick up at his sweat. Face settle into misery again, he staring at the blooden Citgo wall. The feathers lying various dead. And he say quiet, ‘You ain’t know, Ice. You ain’t know.’

36

TO MARIAS

Our farther hour be hurtless fear. Two rifle children come with angry faces, unloose Pasha’s handcuffs. Then Pasha–me be put into a car. Ain’t like the carten car before, this one be closen with glass windows. Seats be fat and soft.

Once the doors be shut, this car become a simple trap. Doors got no opening handles to, nor pushing budge them any. Ya, between the front and backward seats is screen with netty wire. Can see how this been staplen in the roof, the seaten back. I tug thoughtless at these staples, sans no strong intention. Is only bellious mood without no hope.

In the forward seat, drive Carlos, Soledad beside. Ain’t talking, both is sorrow dull. Soledad got her window open. Lie her head onto this windy space. When I call to her, she only nay her hand. Ain’t stir to look. Ya, this hand still red on all its fingertips with blood.

And we go on the number highway. Car drive almost easy, like it skating on a floor. First minutes, Pasha–me talk low, is counseling together. He calmer somewhat, heed me well about this Jesus nonsense. But he add his misery: ‘Know how this Jesus story finish.’

Soon we drift to separate glooms. I stare sideways in the window, and the trees become a fuzzy storm, all losing hasty back. In this, a snow begin, and Soledad raise her window up. Car remain in
closen heat, while this snow float its millions on the other world outside.

Then it be hours and nothing. We fly sorry through the snow. Around be forest, whitening on its arms, like all our walking woods. Yo, sometimes a farm appear – fields looking scrappish after harvest, cows in sleepy hunch. Then my heart go strange to see this life, beyond all worlds beknown. Notice carren vehicles by, and I begin to guess, these farms belong to Soledad’s mally people. Then be dizzy feeling, how we flying every miles of distance, and all land be theirs.

Once we pass a broken city. Got tower buildings higher than no Lowell edifice, but ain’t a child to see. Some buildings lost their walls. Can see the inside partments in their grid; or be only a skeleton of metal, tall into the sky. Cars be turtlen on their roofs, streets choke with color trash. Be like a goliath wind torn up its every part. Snow puzzle above this havoc like it seeking help to this.

And the city pass behind, we meet the snowing woods again. Is coming middy day, the world stand on its narrow shadows. I try to think, how El Mayor be driven so, to be apostle. Can hope he be joyeuse, riding in an actual car. Then I worry on Driver so, my Sengles, as the snow depart, a perilous sun come to the day.

We start to come to blocking gates. These is clumsy artifacts, set across the road. Got one space, is big enough to fit a normal car. Above this space be always writ: PROHIBIDO EL PASO SIN LICENCIA. This got a rifle guard who stand beside in bitty house. At each gate, Carlos fix his window down and show some card. Rifle guard inspect this, say some courtesy and we go on.

This repeat some dozen times. In this, we come to evac country. These evacs various in suffering. Some places be all broken roofs that float upon a wash of junk. Others is healthy towns, with houses painten fresh and standing fences. One place show a sleeper flag that tumble its stripy flank in wind. Below, a sign be written: DOLL’S AMERICAN CONVENIENCE. Smoke rising somewhere, join its whiteness to the snowing air.

Last gate, be thirty rifle children. They gather to the car, and
Carlos get out calling happy. Then these children all be shoving, gaping eyes at me and Pasha. All faces nose toward the window. I feel unliking sick. ‘Damn,’ I say. ‘Herding strangers everywhere. No person going to live.’

Here Soledad look back. ‘Ain’t think like this. They glad to you.’ Face show her joy precaire again.

I make an ugly mouth into the window, but the children laugh. I grin back before I think. One boy make a sign with skewen fingers. I try this for myself, then some five children bending to the window, make skew-finger signs. All laughing pleasure, and this start to mingle in my feeling. ‘Sure,’ I say, ‘they can be bone. Ain’t going to prejudice.’

‘I prejudice for you,’ say Pasha, and Soledad laugh birdish from the front. She say, ‘You narrow, you.’

Then Carlos get back in the car. We drive through the gate, and Soledad sit up bright. Say back, ‘Can see, Marias there.’ She point the forward window.

I put my face up to the netty wire. Ahead, there be a spiky nonsense on the near horizon. Is like the working part of a machine, all different grays and stalks. Stand like weirdo teeth against the lighter gray of sky. Take me time to guess, these teeth be edifices. Then I sit back, sicken dizzy. Try to wonder at their size, but all confuse in distance. At last I say, ‘Goddamn, ain’t real.’

‘Ciudad de las Marias,’ Soledad say in scary pride.

I say, ‘It look like some New York.’

‘Been that,’ say Soledad. ‘In time before. Now is Marias.’

Pasha staring for himself, his face a mix of want and dislike. When he see me looking, he shrug nerviose. ‘New York. I know this.’

‘Bone, we all is knowing this.’ Sudden, I feel anxy light. I say to Soledad, ‘You bringing El Mayor this way, yo sho?’

‘He be behind.’ She heeding to the city with mouth open, like she want to eat it.

‘El Mayor go love this,’ I say. ‘Be his lifen fantasy.’

‘Is right,’ say Soledad. ‘He right.’

*

We skirt along some gristy river, floating with all brownish trash. Road here be wallen in with metal ruin, wreck concree. This pass in sudden breath, and we be in the city self.

Now buildings block us either side. Most got windows blind with wood, but some be living bright with glass. All stand close to the road, it be like driving down a housen hallway. Along, be children, walking careless at the roaden margin. Some be rifle people, but is also boys in churching suits, and girls in heely shoes and dress.

Be signs in every place, yo all these signs is sleeper old. Most words is garble: Dolphin Fish Plaza, 99 and UP. Can guess at Fabco Shoes and Kennedy Fried Chicken. But cannot tell what Blimpie Subs will be, nor Custom Image Apparel. I try reading signs to Pasha, but he make discourage face. Turn moody to his window.

In this, I get a fear bizarre, how they make me Maria here. Ain’t even normal towns. Be towers fabulous, and thousand children. No dirtfoot scratcher ruling here, is gaga in itself. Ya, I feel like sudden falling, how my Sengles far from me. I grip against the door. Push stupid, like it going to free somehow. But my sweaten palm slip helpless.

Then we come beside an open place with healthy trees and grass. I fix on this. Get frantic hope, this city ending now. We come back into woods. Yo, all been jokes. Been anything but real.

But now, I see the city grow ahead in worser heights. It plummet strange into the sky, ain’t even spy the buildings’ heads. Ya, the car go slower. Turn and come up by an edifice white and grandiose. Got twenty rows of windows, and all windows fresh with glass. A dozen rifle children waiting to its steps, beneath a canopy with golden jewlerie upon.

Car stop and ease its voice. Then the stillness feel uncanny. I wish awful that we driving on somewhere. Drive back.

But the rifle children all trot toward with interesting face. Soledad say breathless, ‘Yo we here. The Ministerio be.’

‘Here,’ say Pasha dull. He rub his face and look to me.

‘No sho.’ I look out scary.

Soledad open up her door, step out and stretch her arms. Then she open Pasha’s door. Say happy, ‘Come, we here.’

He go out, I shove along. Step out careful, like I feel the ground may still be moving. Rifle guards shift back, create a path toward the steps. Ain’t aim on us, but every hand be conscious on its gun.

Yo, Soledad start up the carpet steps, wave us behind. I follow careful, Pasha by. We walk between these guns, and Soledad go open a glassen door. Then we step inside, and all the rifles left behind. Be like a noise depart, and leave us in relieving hush.

Inside of this building be like something cut from ice and sugar. Be grandy as an evac warehouse, but all luxury clean. Got some hanging lights is like goliath dandelions of glass. Curtains be gold color, and rangen in some frozen perfectesse. The floor gleam white, the walls gleam white. Ain’t any a speck nor mark of use.

In the roomen center, be a statue made in blackish stone. Show a girlish child, is swathen like she wearing Army godclothes. She sit with knees apart, and across her lap, a naked man be lain. He straggle sick. Girl look down with interest, like she think of eating him.

By this statue, stand five children. All wear dresses, though they boys. The dresses black the same, their skirts be longish to the floor. One child wear a red cravat, tie nett around his waist. Its end drain simple to his knee. Yo, all these children look up as we come. Their mouths false into smiles.

Soledad walk to the redwaist child with eagering step. Crouch graciose and kiss his hand. Then she polite them all. Her shoulders cringing, all herself be like a pologetic hound. Blackdress children smiling to her voice, while they inspect me careful. Ain’t even notice Pasha much, their need be on Ice Cream Unworthy. Feel they think to eat me, like the statue girl. They scout my meat.

Some minutes, Soledad speak to the redwaist child. Her voice come telligent attention, like she giving news. Among her Panish noise, appear some words like
Sengle, Massa, Lowell mill
. These pass like flashing birds, and then she Panish on the same. Yo, all this time, the
rifle guards be staring through the glass behind. Somehow, is like they growing there. Their bad attention weigh my nerves.

Then sudden, the redwaist child speak sharp. Soledad hush, and crouch herself. All the blackdress children touch their palms together, like an unsound clap. They turn from her and wander by.

She come hasty to us, all her body bright with joy. Say, ‘This been Pedro, apostle of Inúd burrow. All be right, you going to see. Now, Ice, you come, we got to parley.’

I look to Pasha, but Soledad say quick, ‘Nay, Pasha going separate.’

‘Foo separate,’ I say. ‘Pasha going to know whatever I know.’

‘Ain’t secrets,’ she say hasty. ‘Be your questioning. Is needful so. They keep him well, ain’t nothing harm. Must be.’

‘If you saying, got no choice, then say this.’

She make a nervy grimace. ‘Is right. I only hoping, be without no ugliness.’

‘No choice,’ say Pasha low. ‘Is normal.’

I start to cavil, but Pasha nay his hand. He grimace back toward the door – the rifle children stood outside. Yo, as I looking, Soledad yell up some Panish to them. Door open, and they stamping in. Then Soledad grip my arm. Only see a flashing glimpse, how Pasha watching misery, guards gathern to him silent weird, as she draw me away.

We go through some window doors into a jumbo room. Here the ceiling all is glass, shape graciose with broidery metal. Walls be butterish in color. Got some prettieuse stalks in honey stone up to the roof.

At a bureau by the farther wall, stand two tennish children. Their heads is shaven to the shine. Wear dresses like the others, but these be brown. Both look to me with biggen eyes, then turn back guilty to the bureau.

Center to this room, a longish table wait. Be gleaming wood, and to this table, any chairs is set. They all the same, with seats of golden cloth.

Soledad bring me to the table’s end, the sergeant place can be. Tap on its chair, and I sit down discourage. Feel conscience
for my journey grime, how I be the only dirt. Soledad pull a chair herself and sit. In this showing light, her cheekbone face look raw bewept.

‘Guess your people found you,’ I say thin.

She smile pologetic. ‘Nay, I finding them. Known them from their trash, gone looking. Took all hours of hunt. Ain’t mostly slept.’

‘Nor myself. We thought you taken by they Armies. Pasha and me come out for you.’

‘Nay, I gone through the Armies.’ She laugh nervy. ‘On this horse. They come yelling, but I gallop on. They never known was me, can guess.’

‘They learning this.’ My voice gone rough. I put my palms down to my jeans.

‘Can leave that,’ Soledad say, breathless low. ‘We got no time.’

‘Nay, how my Sengles going to be? And Driver? You never thinking this? They terrify, and–’

‘Shoo, your Sengles bringing here. All bringing here.’

‘You take us all?’ My voice break high. ‘Ain’t to believe. Goddamn, cannot!’

‘Nay, heed!’ Her eyes go panic. ‘Got to do this questioning right, or you ain’t safe. Ain’t they be safe.’

‘Is prettieuse, ain’t safe! Been safe before your insect deeds.’

‘Ice, all it been,’ she say in beggar voice. ‘Found my people, then I saying natural, you got a Jesus.
Going
to say. They seeking such, all years. Yo, the old Maria dying. Someone got to rule the city.’ Her face go sharper, like she proven point, cannot be argument.

I scoff breath. ‘So be Maria self. Ain’t – nay, nor Pasha in this. Shee your goddamn people.’

‘Ice, ain’t heeding! Got to heed. You ain’t do right, you dying here!’

‘I dying why? Ain’t be no sense!’

‘Trying to tell!’ Her voice go high in nerves. ‘You losing time!’

My heart kick backward in my chest. I touch the knee hole on my jeans. Find a straggling thread, and wind this thread around a finger tense. ‘Ya, say your words. I heed.’

She clutch her hands together on the table. ‘Apostles going to talk to you. Ask questions of yourself.’