true, suddenly, painfully, ineluctably knew, the truth of it like
knowledge of a broken bone
The dream stopped as though a film had broken, and in its
place came a featureless, colorless absence. Imagine a visual
equivalent of white noise and in this space Gonzales waited,
somehow knowing another dream would begin
Red neon letters twisted into a silly but instantly
recognizable parody of Chinese characters read The Pagoda. They
stood above the head of a red neon dragon, now quiescent in
sunlight, that would rear fiercely come dark.
On this warm Saturday morning, men in felt hats and neatly-
pressed weekend shirts and pants carried brown paper bags out of
the Pagoda and placed them in the beds of pickup trucks or the
trunks of cars. They spat shreds of tobacco from Lucky Strikes
and Camels and Chesterfields, called their greetings. Women in
faded cotton, their arms rope-thin and tough, waited and watched
through sun-glazed windshields.
Gonzales passed among them. The sunshine had a certain
quality that of stolen light, taken out of time. And the
cigarette smoke smelled rough and strange. Gasoline engines fired
rich and throaty, kicking out clouds of oily blue. Gonzales stood
in ecstasy amid the smells and sights and sounds of this morning
obviously long gone by. He knew (again without knowing how) that
he was in a small town in California in the middle of the
twentieth century.
Gonzales passed into the main room of the Pagoda, where
narrow aisles threaded between gondolas stacked high with toys and
household goods and tools. Baby carriages hung upside down from
hooks set in the high ceiling. Dust motes danced in the cool
interior gloom. He walked between iron-strapped kegs of nails and
stacks of galvanized washtubs, then through a wide doorway into
the grocery section. Smells of fruits and vegetables mixed with
the odors of oiled wood floors and hot grease from the lunch
counter at the front of the store.
A couple in late middle age came through the front door, the
man small and red-haired and cocky, felt hat on the back of his
head, the woman just a bit dumpy but carefully groomed, her blue
cotton dress clean and starched and ironed, hair permed and
combed, lipstick and nails red and shining. Gonzales watched as
the man bought a carton of Lucky Strikes and a box of pouches of
Beech-Nut Chewing Tobacco.
The man said something to the young woman behind the counter
that brought a giggle, and Gonzales, though he leaned forward,
could not hear what was being said
He followed the two by a lacquered plywood magazine stand,
where a skinny girl or eight or nine in a faded pink gingham dress
lay sprawled across copies of Life and Look, reading a comic. She
looked up at him and said, 'Tubby and Lulu are lost in the magic
forest '
Gonzales started to say something reassuring but froze as the
girl smiled, showing her teeth, every one of them sharp-pointed,
and she dropped her comic book and began crawling toward him
across the wooden floor, her eyes fixed on him with a feral
longing
And he noticed for the first time that he was not he but she,
and he looked down at his body and saw he wore a simple white
blouse, and in the cleft of his breasts he could see the tattooed
image of a twining green stem
'Jesus Christ,' Gonzales said, sitting up in his bed and
wondering what the hell all that had about. In the dream he had
been Lizzie: that seemed plain, though nothing else did.
He lay back down with foreboding but went to sleep some time
later, and if he dreamed, he never knew it.
10. Tell Me When You've Had Enough
Lizzie sat at a white-enameled table, holding an apple that
she cut into with a long, shining knife. It sliced away dark skin
without apparent effort. She heard noises from the room beyond
and looked up to see Diana and Gonzales come in.
'Hello,' she said, as she put down the knife. She held out
half the apple for them to look at. 'A beautiful apple, isn't it?
Seeds from the Yakima Valley, not far from Mount Saint Helens.'
She bit into a slice she held in her other hand.
She got up from the table and said, 'The apple grew here, in
our soil. Many fruits and vegetables thrive up here, animals,
too. We give them lovely care, bring them pure water and rich
soil, give them sunlight and air rich in carbon dioxide, tend them
constantly. You'd think all would thrive, but of course they
don't. Some wither and die, others remain sickly.' She stopped
in front of Diana and looked intently at her.
Diana said, 'Living things are complex, and often very
delicate, even when they seem to be strong.'
Lizzie said, 'That is true, but Aleph understands what life
needs to grow and prosper in this world.' She gestured with a
slice of apple, and Diana took it. 'Its apples,' Lizzie
continued. 'Its people.'
Diana bit into the apple. She said, 'It's very good.'
Lizzie laid a hand on Gonzales's shoulder and squeezed it, to
ay hello. She said to Diana, 'You have an appointment with the
doctor. We'd better be goingthrough here, this way.' She led
the two down a hall, through a doorway, and into a large room.
Over her shoulder, she said, 'First you can meet some of the
collective.'
#
Lizzie watched as Gonzales and the woman stood talking to the
twins, obviously fascinated by them. No news there: most
everyone was. Slight and brown-skinned, black-haired, with solemn
oval faces and still brown eyes, they appeared to be in early
