everything is centered in the head, the head which does not fit the body, the head which is volcanic, still filled with eruption. They come and go like that, clear, precise, trailing the ambiance of the collision, radiating their instantaneous effects. All kinds, all tempered by texture, weather, mood: metallic ones, marble figurines, translucent shadowy ones, flowerlike ones, svelte animals covered with pelts of suede, trapeze artists, silver sheets of water rising in human form and bending like Venetian glass. Leisurely you undress them, examine them under the microscope, bid them sway, bend, flex the knees, roll over, spread their legs. You talk to them, now that your lips are unsealed. What were you doing that day? Do you always wear your hair like that? What were you going to tell me when you stared at me that way? Could I ask you to turn around? That's it. Now cup your breasts with two hands. Yes, I could have thrown myself on you that day. I could have fucked you right on the sidewalk, and people stepping all over us. I could have fucked you into the ground, buried you there near the lake where you were sitting with legs crossed. You knew I was watching you. Tell me... tell me because nobody will ever know... what were you thinking then, that very moment? Why did you keep your legs crossed? You knew I was waiting for you to open them. You wanted to open them, didn't you? Tell me the truth! It was warm and you had nothing on under your dress. You had come down from your perch to get
You spool it off like that, a million feet to the roll. And all the time, shifting the eyes from one to another with kaleidoscopic fury, what gets under your skin is the inexplicable nature of attraction. The mysterious law of attraction! A secret buried as deep in the isolated parts as in the mysterious whole.
The irresistible creature of the other sex is a monster in process of becoming a flower. Feminine beauty is a ceaseless creation, a ceaseless revolution about a defect (often imaginary) which causes the whole being to gyrate heavenward.
11
«She tried to poison herself!»
Those were the words that greeted me on opening the door of Dr. Onirifick's establishment. It was Curley who made the announcement, smothering his words under the rattle of the door-knob.
A glance over his shoulder told me that she was asleep. Kronski had taken care of her. He had requested that nothing be said to Dr. Onirifick about it.
«I smelled the chloroform as soon as I came in,» Curley explained. «She was seated in the chair, huddled up, as if she had had a stroke.»
«I thought maybe it was an abortion...» he added, looking a little sheepish.
«Why did she do it, did she say?»
Curley hemmed and hawed.
«Come on, don't be silly. What was it—jealousy?»
He wasn't sure. All he knew was what she blabbed on coming to. She had repeated over and over that she couldn't stand it any longer.
«Stand what?» I asked.
«Your seeing your wife, I suppose. She said she had picked the receiver up to telephone you. She felt that something was wrong.»
«How did she put it exactly, do you remember?»
«Yes, she talked a lot of nonsense about being betrayed. She said it wasn't the child you went to see but your wife. She said you were weak, that when she was not with you you were capable of doing anything...»
I looked at him in astonishment. «She really said that? You're not putting it on, are you?»
Curley pretended not to hear. He went on to speak of Kronski, how well he had behaved.
«I didn't think he could lie so cleverly,» said Curley.
«Lie? How do you mean?»
«The way he talked about you. You should have heard it. God, it was almost as if he were making love to her. He said such wonderful things about you that she began to weep and sob like a child.»
«Imagine,» he continued, «telling her that you were the most loyal, faithful fellow in the world! Saying that you had changed completely since you knew her—that no woman could tempt you!»
Here Curley couldn't restrain a sickly grin.
«Well it's true,» I said, almost angrily. «Kronski was telling the truth.»
«That you love her so much you...»
«And what makes you think I don't?»
«Because I know you. You'll never change.» I sat down near the bed and looked at her. Curley moved about restlessly. I could feel the anger in him smouldering. I knew what was at the bottom of it.
«She's quite all right now, I suppose?» I inquired after a time.
«How do I know, she's not my wife.» The words flashed back like the gleam of a knife.
«What's the matter with you, Curley? Are you jealous of Kronski? Or are you jealous of me? You can hold her hand and pet her when she wakes up. You know me...»
«Damned right I do!» came Curley's sullen reply. «You should have been here holding her hand yourself. You're never there when any one wants you. I suppose you were holding Maude's hand— now that she doesn't want you any more. I remember how you treated her. I thought it funny then—I was too young to know better. And I remember Dolores too...»
«Easy!» I whispered, motioning with my head towards the prostrate figure.
«She won't wake up so soon, don't worry.» «All right... now what about Dolores?» I said, lowering my voice. «Just what did I do to Dolores that hurt you so?»
He could say nothing for a moment. He was simply bursting with scorn and contempt. Finally he blurted it out.
«You ruin them! You destroy something in them, that's all I can say.»
«You mean that after we broke up you tried to hook Dolores and she wouldn't have you?»
«Before or after—what difference does it make,» he snarled. «I know how she felt—she used to spill it out to me. Even when she hated you she couldn't see me. She used me for a pillow. She wept all over me, as if I were made of Christ knows what... You used to sail out after those sessions in the back room beaming all over. Little Curley was left to lick up the crumbs. Little Curley would tidy things up for you. You never thought what happened when the door closed on you, did you?»
«No-o-o,» I drawled, smiling at him tauntingly. «What did happen? You tell me.»
It's always interesting to learn what does really happen when the door closes behind you. I was ready to sit back and listen with ears cocked.
«Of course,» I ventured, to stimulate him further, «you tried to make the most of the situation.»
«If you want to know,» he replied with brutal frankness, «yes, I did. Even if it was a wet deck! I encouraged her to weep, because then I could put my arms around her. And finally I managed it. I didn't do so bad either, considering the disadvantage I was under. I can tell you a few things about your beautiful Dolores...»
I nodded. «Let's hear everything. It sounds exciting.»
«What you probably don't know is the way she acts when she gets a weeping spell. You missed something.»
I tried to give him free rein, concealing my emotions behind a mask of disinterested tolerance. Curiously enough, in spite of his desire to wound me, he found it difficult to tell his story coherently, or even to take advantage of the opportunity I had given him. The more he talked the more sorry he became for himself.» He couldn't get away from his own sense of frustration. He wanted to besmirch her, and being able to obtain my approval added spice to the procedure. He thought I too would enjoy this profanation of an old idol.
«So you never really did get your end in?» I threw him a consoling glance. «Too bad, because she certainly was a good piece of hump...If I had only known about it I might have helped you. You should have said something. I thought you were too callow to ,feel that way about her. Naturally I suspected that you put your arms around her when my back was turned. I didn't give you credit, though, for taking your cock out and trying to shove it in. No, I thought you were too worshipful for that. Jesus, you were only a kid then. How old were you—sixteen, seventeen? I
