A Ship Made of Paper

”What can you do?”

Iris takes a small sip ofthe bourbon.It tastes suddenly chemical.And she doesn’t want to get drunk.But shecoulduse a little pat on the be-hind, like the in-flight trainers give the paratroopers.She is amazed by her own rectitude.Frankness is one ofher qualities.Orwas.Six years of Hampton have worn down her confidence.The peculiar degradation of living with a man who won’t say so but whothinksshe is not smart enough for him.It used to be easy with men—just something she could do, like swimming, or being able to sing.It had little to do with beauty, or even sex, it was an affinity, an unconscious knowledge ofwhat they were thinking, what they wanted.She was raised with four brothers, and their fifty friends.Yet here, with Daniel, she cannot get it started.She takes a deep breath, pushes herselfforward.

“I liked the way you jumped up when you heard your kid fall,”

shesays.

“Jumping up when I hear a loud noise is one ofmy talents.”

“I’m serious.Last summer, Nelson was in the backyard playing with his tricycle.He had it upside down and he was spinning the front wheel around and around and throwing little stones into the spokes.He said it was his popcorn machine.”

“I used to do that, the exact same thing.”

“Then somehow he got his fingers caught in the spokes.He was fine, but it hurt and he let out a yell.Hampton was just getting out ofa bath, he’s got this Saturday ritual.”

Daniel envisions him, prone in the tub, his head tilted back and resting on a terry cloth square that had been folded with Japanese precision, his eyes closed, his cock floating on the soapy surface ofthe water, push-ing through the bubbles like a crocodile through lily pads.

“And he just stood there,”Iris is saying.“He heard Nellie screaming.I was in bed, I was sick, and I was calling out to him.He started down the stairs, but when he was halfway down he stopped, turned around, went backto the bathroom, and got his robe.His kid was screaming and he went back for his robe.”

Daniel doesn’t know what he can possibly say.She is comparing Hampton unfavorably to him, she is offering herselfto him, she is saying she is unhappy.

“It just seems to me,”Iris says,“that with your kid screaming the first thing you do is get to the kid, not run in the opposite direction.I got out ofbed—”

“With your robe on?”

“Are you trying to annoy me?”

“No, amuse.”

“It really appalled me.I felt something…”She is going to say either

“close”or“die,”but she says neither.Instead, she asks Daniel,“You wouldn’t have done that, would you? Stopped for your robe with Ruby crying out in the yard.”

He shakes his head No.Then, smiling,“But I’m sort ofan exhibitionist.”

She usually laughs when Daniel jokes, now it seems as ifhe is scrambling to put some distance between them, backing out ofthe whole thing.Chicken,she thinks.She only wants to go forward.And ifhe takes another step back, then she will have to take another step forward.

“You’d think Hampton would be an exhibitionist, too.He’s so proud ofwhohe is.Family and all that terrible stuff.”

“I’m not really an exhibitionist,”Daniel says.

”I know.”

“And I don’t have much ofa family.Two parents who were too old for the job and sort ofgave up on it, no brothers or sisters.”

“Well, to Hampton, family’s everything.His family, that is.You got a taste ofthat, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t so bad.”

“It wears on you.Those people, maybe you have to be black to really be angry with them.But it’s that bunch ofNeee-groes who look down on everyone else in the community.”She points to herself.

“You?”

“First ofall,”she explains,“too dark.Second, bad hair.”

“You have wonderful hair,”Daniel says.

”You don’t know anything about my hair,”she says, laughing.“I can’t stand when people talk about my hair, especially…Anyhow, myfam-ily wasn’t part oftheir crowd.Hampton’s people are really amazingly provincial.They’re all intertwined with each other, mixed up in each other’s business.My folks had enough money, that wasn’t really a prob-lem.I mean I wasn’t from the projects or anything.My father’s a hospi-tal administrator, my mother taught kindergarten, before arthritis hit her.But I didn’t belong to any ofthe right clubs.I wasnota Girl Friend or a Jack and Jill.I didn’t know shit about Oak Bluffs or Sag Harbor.I think one ofthe things Hamp liked about me was I wasn’t perfect in the eyes ofhis family.I was his little rebellion.A dark-skinned girl, with rude politics.But…youknow.The rebellion runs its little course and slowly but surely he turns into all those people who he swore he’d never be like.He really and truly wishes I was lighter, and I think he feels the same way about Nelson.And the really strange part ofit is Hampton is obsessed with being black, he’s black twenty-four hours a day, it’s all he thinks about.He sort ofdislikes white people, but at the same time he’s like most ofus:He really wants white people to likehim.And that, by the way, is the dirty little secret oftheAfricans inAmerica.We really want y’all to like us.”

The electricity cuts out for about the time ofa long blink, the world disappears, then shakes itselfback into existence.When the lights come back, the digital clock on the stove flashes12:00over and over.Daniel and Iris sit across from each other, silent, waiting to see what will hap-pen next.And then a few moments later, the lights go out, and this time they don’t come back on.This time it’s for good, they both can feel it.

The children cry out upstairs, with more delight than alarm.

“I love you,”Daniel says in the darkness.

[7]

Suddenly, in the distance was a pop, and then a plume of iridescent smoke rose above the trees, a vivid tear in the dark silken sky.

“Someone’s got her,”Daniel said.“I just saw a flare.”

Hampton looked up.Only a small circle of sky was visible through the

trees.“What was a damn blind girl doing out here? Even with eyes you can’t make your way.”

“She was raised here,”Daniel said.“Her father was the caretaker.She came

back to look after him when he got sick.Smiley.”

“Smiley?What do you mean?”

“That’s what everyone called him.I used to see him in town whenIwas

akid.”

Hampton shook his head.“These people, they’re living in another cen-

tury.They got their old family retainers, their fox-hunting clubs, their ice boats, they play tennis with these tiny little wooden racquets, and NewYear’s Eve they put on the rusty tuxedos their grandfathers used to wear.”

“Just a small percentage,”Daniel said.“They can be pretty absurd, but it’s

okay, if you have a sense of humor about it.”

“That was the first thing Iris ever said about you, how you have this ter-

rific sense of humor.”

“Class clown,”said Daniel.“In my case, middle class.”

In the city, Hampton comes home to what used to be his and Iris’s apartment and which is now his alone.It’s four rooms in a high-rise down on Jane Street, in theVillage.On a block ofpicturesque town houses, most ofthem over150years old, the building is a twenty-five-story eyesore, but the saving grace is that once Hampton is inside he