and heavy and wide, deliberate, like they got six-shooters

riding on each hip; while the boys m ove fast, mad, mean,

speeding, cold fury in hot motion. Y ou want them on each

other; not on you. It ain’t honorable but it’s real. Y o u want

them caught up in the urban hate o f generations, in wild west

battles on city streets, you want them so manly against each

other they don’t have time for girlish trash like you, you want

them fighting each other cock to cock so it all gets used up on

each other. Y o u take the view that wom en are for recreation,

fun, when the battle’s over; and this battle has about another

hundred years to go. Y o u figure they can dig you up out o f the

ground when they’re ready. Y o u figure they probably will.

Y o u figure it don’t matter to them one w ay or the other. Y ou

figure it don’t matter to you either; ju st so it ain’t today, now,

tonight, tom orrow ; ju st so you ain’t conscious; just so you

ain’t alive the next time; just so you are good and dead; just so

you don’t know what it is and w h o ’s doing it. If yo u ’re buying

milk or bread or things you have to go past them, walk down

them streets, go in front o f them, the boys, the cops, and you

practice disappearing; you practice pulling the air over you

like a blanket; you practice being nothing and no one; you

practice not making a sound and barely breathing; you

practice making your eyes go blank and never looking at

anyone but seeing where they are, hearing a shadow move;

you practice being a ghost on cement; and you don’t let

nothing rattle or make noise, not the groceries, not your shoes

hitting the ground, not your arms, you don’t let them m ove or

rub, you don’t make no spontaneous gestures, you don’t even

raise your arm to scratch your nose, you keep your arms still

and you put the milk in the bag so it stays still and you go so far

as to make sure the bag ain’t a stupid bag, one o f them plastic

ones that makes sounds every time something touches it; you

have to get a quiet bag; if it’s a brown paper bag you have to

perfect the skill o f carrying it so nothing moves inside it and so

you don’t have to change arms or hands, acts which can catch

the eye o f someone, acts which can call attention to you, you

don’t shift the bag because your hand gets tired or your arm,

you just let it hurt because it hurts quiet, and if it’s a plastic bag

it’s got to be laminated good so it don’t make any rustling

noise or scratching sound, and you have to walk faster, silent,

fast, because plastic bags stand out more, sometimes they have

bright colors and the flash o f color going by can catch

someone’s attention, the bag’s real money, it costs a dime, it’s

a luxury item, you got change to spare, you’re a classy shopper

so who knows what else you got; and if it’s not colorful it’s

likely to be a shiny white, a bright white, the kind light flashes

o ff o f like it’s a mirror sending signals and there’s only one

Вы читаете Mercy
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