Posted: Fri Dec 08, 2006 1:05 pm
So Max showers. He stands four square in a haze of silver as the water pummels his shoulders and chest. He looks like a municipal statute in a spring downpour, his outlines smudged, animated. I watch until I can watch no more and walk out into the dim hallway where, for a variety of reasons, all hell seems to have broken lose.
Michael is in the bedroom with a semi-naked Liz, still rather frightening aglow, holding her legs up in the air. She is lying with her back and head on the floor giggling. She looks divine – it is precisely the right word to use. Michael assures me this technique has something to do aiding `the swimming sperm’ find their goal. I have visions of a billion billion Max’s swimming, naked and slick, like pods of dolphins, their backs breaking the water and slipping away into azure silence. I go to dissent but Michael sticks his tongue out and says it was on Oprah so who am I to disagree. Outside people are running about since the excesses of the Antarian culmination have activated the fire alarm.
Maria and Isabel appear just as Michael is asking Liz to raise her hips again.
`What the fuck is going on!’ Maria looks anxious, as if Davies and the Feds are about to arrive. Liz looks vaguely sheepish.
`Oh my god – you’ve done it?’ asks Isabel - `Already?’
`It was now or never’ sighs Liz, her face smooth and shining, so her eyes look luminous, her teeth white, as if she is under ultraviolet light. Maria takes over the manipulation of Liz’s legs from Michael
`Hey, I can do that, I need to talk to Madonna here about her plans!’ Michael goes to protest but is engineered out the room.
`Plans?’ asks Liz vaguely. She is smiling and distracted as if drunk. Isabel goes inside and the door closes on a female conclave. I look at Michael and pout.
`Well that’s enough excitement for one night!’
`Michael –‘
He looks at me, his head to one side, his shoulders sag as if he is preparing for another interrogation. It is exactly the look he gives Maria. I smile mischievously.
`I love you loads, man.’ It is not what he is expecting and his eyes narrow momentarily before he swoops quickly and hugs me. He kisses the top of my head.
`Me too, but be careful of what you wish for, Jamie, OK? Max’s love is unconditional and forever.’ He pauses, thinking hard `It 's a tryst with destiny.’ It is a warning, half playful and half serious. Tryst is not a word I imagine Michael uses very often. At that moment Kyle walks in eating nuts.
`Did we just have an earthquake or did Max fuck Liz?’
`I think Liz fucked Max actually’ Michael corrects, switching the living room light on.
`It was kind of mutual I think' I add.
`Excellent! Well, we ‘d better turn in for what’s left of the night – we need to retrieve the van, remember?’ He taps Michael’s sternum.
`How’s Brandon?’ I ask, as the sofa and a whole array of cushions are re-arranged into our sleeping quarters.
`What a cool guy, it’s a shame I won’t have more time to chat with him – very chilled for someone so young, and no attitude! He talks like a Buddhist!’
`He might well be’ I am distracted by howls of laughter from my bedroom, brought on by Max walking in there to get dressed. I hear Isabel say in mock censure: `Little brother!’ and he says
`Aunt Isabel!’
Later………
The women are in my bedroom, and we are in the living room. It is probably about 2:30 am. Max is on the sofa, half turned, knees up, snoring softly. Michael is on the floor beside him under several coats. Kyle is playing with Jonathan’s play station. I look at his face, lit by the TV screen, all concentration, his eyes brilliant, darting about as he steals himself to level 200 of some sports game. Despite the fact it is late the women are still talking about something and occasionally they still snort with laughter. I am on the chair curled up, wedged at an angle, thinking, thinking, thinking.
I am thinking: is this the last night I shall be in my apartment? Will I come back here, and if I do, who will I be? I am entering a phase of my life that is unplanned, unforeseen. Suddenly I am aware of irritants like my scholarship and debts – ought I at least to suspend from University? When I meet up with DeMarr, (as god willing I must) I will have to ask him to help me. At least I am going on the run with my supervisor! And then I think, does it matter? Do I want a degree? As I doze again I realise that I expect to go with my friends, although no one has yet explicitly asked me.
I have an unreasonable and sudden stab of panic that they will not ask me to go to Grey’s estate, that I will be left behind. Always this fear that I shall be abandoned. I will resist. I will throw a massive earth-shattering tantrum! Jamie relax! Besides, if and when I come back to this place, Earth will have made contact with Antar, and nothing will be the same again. Ever.
I sleep and dream of Max. We are standing on a strange beach where we have evidently been swimming. The water is thick and oily. It is early morning and just growing light. Behind us a massive wall of rock stacks up to the sky, its face scored with endless windows and stairways. Some are lit. Max is naked, his back half turned to me. Under his brown skin I see scales – or rather smooth indentations like pebbles – and above his buttocks he has a tail, wiry and grey. Next to him, rammed into the sand with great force, there is a sort of spear. From the top a long narrow pennant billows and snaps in the wind – it is powder blue – almost luminous.
As the darkness lifts, a great V shaped constellation of stars wheels over the ocean. It is very silent. I am cold. I have a strange feeling that we have been to a funeral, or a burial of some kind. Max, majestic, mythical, is sad. I walk over to him and stroke his arms. He looks at me and his face is so beautiful, so sharply defined, so intimate to me, that I am speechless. He is crying, brilliant silver tears. They bleed over his cheeks like beads of mercury. I go to kiss him and brush them away. I ask him why he is crying. and he says softly `Be careful, they will burn you!’ I say I do not care. His lips draw close to mine and then across the beach I see an army hatching in the sands. I jump awake.
Kyle and Michael are furtively dressing, picking their way about the kitchen. There is a smell of coffee. The room feels very cold, or is it the strange memory of the dreamscape?
`What’s up?’ Michael leans over me.
`Nothing – I must have been dreaming –‘
He touches my face rather randomly, `Go to sleep, it’s still early’. He walks over and I see him kneel over Max and gently shake him. They speak in whispers, conferring. Max sounds sleepy. I hear Max say `Uh sure, we’ll meet you there in –‘ there is a rustle and a search for watches `three hours?’
Kyle appears with a backpack on his shoulder, and says `Seeya Max’. Max takes Michael’s hand and says `Watch yourselves.’ I hear the main door open and close. I lie awake, my neck and shoulders incredibly stiff. Max sits up, runs his hands through his hair and slips off to the bathroom. I think of Max and Michael together, the deep affection and love they have, how it has grown into something vast and splendid. When Max comes back I am feigning sleep. He gets onto the sofa, fidgets madly and then all goes silent. Yet his presence seems to fill the room. Suddenly he says softly.
`Jamie? Jamie are you awake?’
`Yeah – what’s up?’ I try to sound tired, but I sound like I have been wide-awake and calculating Pi for the last three or four hours.
`Nothing – have you managed to sleep at all?’
`Yeah – a bit.’
`Yeah?’ he is sitting up, re-arranging his blankets. He doesn’t sound too convinced. He lies down facing me. Down below on the street a few cars drive by. There is the sound of wet tarmac, splashing.
`Max?’
`What?’
`I’m coming with you!’
`Excuse me?’
`To Grey’s!’
He sits up again, rubbing his eyes. `Oh course you’re coming with me! You’re the fucking baby expert! You and Michael are the only people who know what is going on!’
`I am? I mean we are! Cool!’ I try not to sound as if I have been worrying about this. Then I feel embarrassed for having had to ask.
`Jamie?’
`What?’ my heart is pounding. I am sure Max can fucking hear it.
`This is all going to be ok, isn’t it? I mean, the baby and all – the whole thing – where we’re going?’ I catch my breath, as if I have been stabbed. The idea that he might be worried cuts me to the quick. I get out of my chair and squat down on the floor next to his face.
`It’s going to be fantastic, Max, I mean, more than anything you can possibly imagine! And this is just the beginning! It will be difficult, and it is obviously dangerous, but -’ I struggle to think of words that will repay his trust, the gift of his love. `But we are close to end of things here, we are nearly over the threshold.’
`Yeah?’ he says dreamily. `God, you college boys! Come here –‘ He throws aside his blanket like a big black wing. I can smell his warmth inside. I pause momentarily and then I climb in next to him, pushing him into the backrest. It is like climbing into the sun.
I lie on my back, giddy with emotion, his arm is under my neck and his face is touching my forehead. His breath lifts my hair.
`Michael would reproach you for encouraging me!' I say.
`Yeah, well he's one to talk!' He lifts his leg to put over me. I feel him wince.
`Sore?' I ask innocently.
`A bit – god I really did feel the earth move!' I hear him smile.
`So did half of Seattle!’
His breath is slow and even. I think again of Michael’s image of the wooden dolls, the unassuming, deep bond between all my friends. And I think simply - whatever happens - wherever this takes me – however dark - my life is blessed. Behind my closed eyelids great whirls of light roll and bank. I feel the Earth move too – seriously – I see it – a great swirling ball rushing towards its first contact, and I also see, in the dark far corners of space, a fleet of ships approaching -
`To carry you hence.’ I whisper.
`What?’ Max whispers, but he is already at the threshold of sleep again. I feel his body down my side.
`Max?’
`Hmm?’
`Do you dream of Antar?’
But he is silent.
`I do.'
I gently kiss his neck, really gently, so as not to wake him, or to shatter him, as if he is something infinitely fragile. I lie awake, lost in the sheer joy of being. I see the grey wet morning steal up on us and I am the first one to hear Liz go into the bathroom and retch.
Michael is in the bedroom with a semi-naked Liz, still rather frightening aglow, holding her legs up in the air. She is lying with her back and head on the floor giggling. She looks divine – it is precisely the right word to use. Michael assures me this technique has something to do aiding `the swimming sperm’ find their goal. I have visions of a billion billion Max’s swimming, naked and slick, like pods of dolphins, their backs breaking the water and slipping away into azure silence. I go to dissent but Michael sticks his tongue out and says it was on Oprah so who am I to disagree. Outside people are running about since the excesses of the Antarian culmination have activated the fire alarm.
Maria and Isabel appear just as Michael is asking Liz to raise her hips again.
`What the fuck is going on!’ Maria looks anxious, as if Davies and the Feds are about to arrive. Liz looks vaguely sheepish.
`Oh my god – you’ve done it?’ asks Isabel - `Already?’
`It was now or never’ sighs Liz, her face smooth and shining, so her eyes look luminous, her teeth white, as if she is under ultraviolet light. Maria takes over the manipulation of Liz’s legs from Michael
`Hey, I can do that, I need to talk to Madonna here about her plans!’ Michael goes to protest but is engineered out the room.
`Plans?’ asks Liz vaguely. She is smiling and distracted as if drunk. Isabel goes inside and the door closes on a female conclave. I look at Michael and pout.
`Well that’s enough excitement for one night!’
`Michael –‘
He looks at me, his head to one side, his shoulders sag as if he is preparing for another interrogation. It is exactly the look he gives Maria. I smile mischievously.
`I love you loads, man.’ It is not what he is expecting and his eyes narrow momentarily before he swoops quickly and hugs me. He kisses the top of my head.
`Me too, but be careful of what you wish for, Jamie, OK? Max’s love is unconditional and forever.’ He pauses, thinking hard `It 's a tryst with destiny.’ It is a warning, half playful and half serious. Tryst is not a word I imagine Michael uses very often. At that moment Kyle walks in eating nuts.
`Did we just have an earthquake or did Max fuck Liz?’
`I think Liz fucked Max actually’ Michael corrects, switching the living room light on.
`It was kind of mutual I think' I add.
`Excellent! Well, we ‘d better turn in for what’s left of the night – we need to retrieve the van, remember?’ He taps Michael’s sternum.
`How’s Brandon?’ I ask, as the sofa and a whole array of cushions are re-arranged into our sleeping quarters.
`What a cool guy, it’s a shame I won’t have more time to chat with him – very chilled for someone so young, and no attitude! He talks like a Buddhist!’
`He might well be’ I am distracted by howls of laughter from my bedroom, brought on by Max walking in there to get dressed. I hear Isabel say in mock censure: `Little brother!’ and he says
`Aunt Isabel!’
Later………
The women are in my bedroom, and we are in the living room. It is probably about 2:30 am. Max is on the sofa, half turned, knees up, snoring softly. Michael is on the floor beside him under several coats. Kyle is playing with Jonathan’s play station. I look at his face, lit by the TV screen, all concentration, his eyes brilliant, darting about as he steals himself to level 200 of some sports game. Despite the fact it is late the women are still talking about something and occasionally they still snort with laughter. I am on the chair curled up, wedged at an angle, thinking, thinking, thinking.
I am thinking: is this the last night I shall be in my apartment? Will I come back here, and if I do, who will I be? I am entering a phase of my life that is unplanned, unforeseen. Suddenly I am aware of irritants like my scholarship and debts – ought I at least to suspend from University? When I meet up with DeMarr, (as god willing I must) I will have to ask him to help me. At least I am going on the run with my supervisor! And then I think, does it matter? Do I want a degree? As I doze again I realise that I expect to go with my friends, although no one has yet explicitly asked me.
I have an unreasonable and sudden stab of panic that they will not ask me to go to Grey’s estate, that I will be left behind. Always this fear that I shall be abandoned. I will resist. I will throw a massive earth-shattering tantrum! Jamie relax! Besides, if and when I come back to this place, Earth will have made contact with Antar, and nothing will be the same again. Ever.
I sleep and dream of Max. We are standing on a strange beach where we have evidently been swimming. The water is thick and oily. It is early morning and just growing light. Behind us a massive wall of rock stacks up to the sky, its face scored with endless windows and stairways. Some are lit. Max is naked, his back half turned to me. Under his brown skin I see scales – or rather smooth indentations like pebbles – and above his buttocks he has a tail, wiry and grey. Next to him, rammed into the sand with great force, there is a sort of spear. From the top a long narrow pennant billows and snaps in the wind – it is powder blue – almost luminous.
As the darkness lifts, a great V shaped constellation of stars wheels over the ocean. It is very silent. I am cold. I have a strange feeling that we have been to a funeral, or a burial of some kind. Max, majestic, mythical, is sad. I walk over to him and stroke his arms. He looks at me and his face is so beautiful, so sharply defined, so intimate to me, that I am speechless. He is crying, brilliant silver tears. They bleed over his cheeks like beads of mercury. I go to kiss him and brush them away. I ask him why he is crying. and he says softly `Be careful, they will burn you!’ I say I do not care. His lips draw close to mine and then across the beach I see an army hatching in the sands. I jump awake.
Kyle and Michael are furtively dressing, picking their way about the kitchen. There is a smell of coffee. The room feels very cold, or is it the strange memory of the dreamscape?
`What’s up?’ Michael leans over me.
`Nothing – I must have been dreaming –‘
He touches my face rather randomly, `Go to sleep, it’s still early’. He walks over and I see him kneel over Max and gently shake him. They speak in whispers, conferring. Max sounds sleepy. I hear Max say `Uh sure, we’ll meet you there in –‘ there is a rustle and a search for watches `three hours?’
Kyle appears with a backpack on his shoulder, and says `Seeya Max’. Max takes Michael’s hand and says `Watch yourselves.’ I hear the main door open and close. I lie awake, my neck and shoulders incredibly stiff. Max sits up, runs his hands through his hair and slips off to the bathroom. I think of Max and Michael together, the deep affection and love they have, how it has grown into something vast and splendid. When Max comes back I am feigning sleep. He gets onto the sofa, fidgets madly and then all goes silent. Yet his presence seems to fill the room. Suddenly he says softly.
`Jamie? Jamie are you awake?’
`Yeah – what’s up?’ I try to sound tired, but I sound like I have been wide-awake and calculating Pi for the last three or four hours.
`Nothing – have you managed to sleep at all?’
`Yeah – a bit.’
`Yeah?’ he is sitting up, re-arranging his blankets. He doesn’t sound too convinced. He lies down facing me. Down below on the street a few cars drive by. There is the sound of wet tarmac, splashing.
`Max?’
`What?’
`I’m coming with you!’
`Excuse me?’
`To Grey’s!’
He sits up again, rubbing his eyes. `Oh course you’re coming with me! You’re the fucking baby expert! You and Michael are the only people who know what is going on!’
`I am? I mean we are! Cool!’ I try not to sound as if I have been worrying about this. Then I feel embarrassed for having had to ask.
`Jamie?’
`What?’ my heart is pounding. I am sure Max can fucking hear it.
`This is all going to be ok, isn’t it? I mean, the baby and all – the whole thing – where we’re going?’ I catch my breath, as if I have been stabbed. The idea that he might be worried cuts me to the quick. I get out of my chair and squat down on the floor next to his face.
`It’s going to be fantastic, Max, I mean, more than anything you can possibly imagine! And this is just the beginning! It will be difficult, and it is obviously dangerous, but -’ I struggle to think of words that will repay his trust, the gift of his love. `But we are close to end of things here, we are nearly over the threshold.’
`Yeah?’ he says dreamily. `God, you college boys! Come here –‘ He throws aside his blanket like a big black wing. I can smell his warmth inside. I pause momentarily and then I climb in next to him, pushing him into the backrest. It is like climbing into the sun.
I lie on my back, giddy with emotion, his arm is under my neck and his face is touching my forehead. His breath lifts my hair.
`Michael would reproach you for encouraging me!' I say.
`Yeah, well he's one to talk!' He lifts his leg to put over me. I feel him wince.
`Sore?' I ask innocently.
`A bit – god I really did feel the earth move!' I hear him smile.
`So did half of Seattle!’
His breath is slow and even. I think again of Michael’s image of the wooden dolls, the unassuming, deep bond between all my friends. And I think simply - whatever happens - wherever this takes me – however dark - my life is blessed. Behind my closed eyelids great whirls of light roll and bank. I feel the Earth move too – seriously – I see it – a great swirling ball rushing towards its first contact, and I also see, in the dark far corners of space, a fleet of ships approaching -
`To carry you hence.’ I whisper.
`What?’ Max whispers, but he is already at the threshold of sleep again. I feel his body down my side.
`Max?’
`Hmm?’
`Do you dream of Antar?’
But he is silent.
`I do.'
I gently kiss his neck, really gently, so as not to wake him, or to shatter him, as if he is something infinitely fragile. I lie awake, lost in the sheer joy of being. I see the grey wet morning steal up on us and I am the first one to hear Liz go into the bathroom and retch.