Elephant Bangs Train (3 page)

Eagle shook Domingo out of his filthy bed. The Mexican crawled across the floor, looking for his sombrero, and they walked across the camp to the garage where the pickup truck was stowed with Eagle's bike.

Eagle pulled the cycle off the kickstand and they rolled it up a wooden ramp into the back of the truck, then slid the ramp in the truck, roped it down, and drove quietly off the Reservation.

They went down the empty highway, Domingo at the wheel, Eagle slouched in the corner by the door. 'Why you doin' this, man?' asked the Mexican, not looking at Eagle.

Eagle's hat was over his eyes. He slept a little, nodding with the bounces in and out of a dream. His head dropped against the cold window. The truck was stopped.

Eagle stepped down on to the silent mesa. My legs shakin', he thought and went round to the back of the truck, where Domingo was letting down the ramp. Eagle touched the cold handlebars of the bike and stopped shaking. They wheeled the cycle to the ground.

'I know a chick,' said Domingo. They pushed the ramp to the edge of the canyon. '—with a fantastic ass—' They faced the ramp to the misty hole, bracing it with cinder blocks. 'She live down in Ensenada, man, whattya say we go down there?'

Eagle climbed on to the bike, turned over the motor, breaking the morning stillness. He circled slowly, making bigger circles until the motor was running strong, then drove over to Domingo at the edge of the ramp.

'
Buena suerte, amigo
!' shouted the Mexican over the roaring engine.

'On the other side!' called Eagle, and drove away from the ramp, fifty, a hundred, two, three, four hundred yards. He turned, lined the bike up with the ramp. A white chicken fluttered in his stomach. Domingo waved his black hat.

In neutral, Eagle gunned the big Arupa engine, once, twice, and engaging first gear spun out towards the ramp.

The sun was rising, the speedometer climbing as he shifted into second gear, fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty miles an hour. Eagle burned across the table land towards Navaho Canyon, into third gear, ninety, a hundred, had jumped twelve cars on this bike, had no job, saw Domingo from the corner of his eye, was going one twenty-five and that was it as he hit the ramp and sailed his ass off into space.

The cycle whined above the mist, floating like a thunder clap, and Johnny Eagle in his slouch hat rode lightly as an arrow, airborne in the glory of the moment as a sunbeam struck him in his arc of triumph, then his sunset came upon him and he saw the flaw in his life story,
one fifty, man, not one twenty-five
, as the far cliff for which he hungered came no closer, seemed to mock him through the mist, was impossible, always had been, and his slouch hat blew away.

Don't go, Johnny.

He strained to lift his falling horse, to carry her above the morning, to fly with her between his legs, rupturing several muscles in his passion and then as he fell for certain just clung sadly with the morning rising up his asshole, poor balls groaning Johnny Eagle, falling down Navaho Canyon, the geological formations quite apparent as the mist was clearing from the rock.

'SO LONG, MAN!' he shouted, with quite a way to go, falling like a regular comet, smoke and fire out the tailpipe as the bike turned slowly over, plunging through the hollow entry. Jesus Christ my blood is boiling there goes the engine.

He fell quietly, hissing through the mist, dreaming it was still dawn on Red Wing's red-brown thighs.

Johnny, don't go
. O.K. babe I'll stay here.

But he saw the real rocks rushing past him.

I uster dance. Neck down in the fender. She held me in my screwloose, Johnny Eagle, be my old man, babe I'm crazy and mus' go to Gitchegumee.

Down in Ensenada man

Domingo falling to the barroom laughing with his knife blade bloody, my look at that terracotta there like faces in the Canyon, Sheriff you kin let us out now, won't do no harm. There goes my shoes man where am I.

A fantastic

Water like rock. Thousand fist pound my brain out. Crack me, shell me, awful snot death crap death hunnert bucks that bike death cost me black death o no Colorado do not take me.

Yes I took you Johnny Eagle

Wham the arrow crossed the morning. I am shot from out my body whoooooooooooooo the endless sunrise.

Some time later a fledgling eagle was hatched by an old white-headed fierce-beaked queen of the Canyon. She pushed the little eagle into space where he learned to soar, crying
kyreeeee
, high above the morning, turning in the mist upon the wind.

And Domingo, riding down to Ensenada, to see the girl in Ensenada, crossed the border singing

He saw Aunt Mary comin' an'

He duck back in the alley

The Doorman

C
HARLES SAT
by the window, watching. Outside the buildings made faces. Look Charles we are old and cracked. On the street below the stone people moved slowly and Charles watched them six thousand years.

'Lift your feet,' said Mother, riding on her rag stick.

'I'm talking to the buildings,' said Charles.

'No, you're not, dear, lift your feet so Mother can clean.'

Charles lifted his feet like a good person. Mother waved her rag stick at the dirties who lived on the floor and they flew up in the sunlight. One was named Susan and one Betty Ann and Carol too, dirty girls make sissy and cucky.

'Help me with your father,' said Mother. Charles stood up, turned around six times and walked to the chair in the living room, where Father was snoring birds out his nose.

'Lift his feet up.'

Charles lifted up the feet, and Mother made the dirties fly.

'I am the stove,' said Charles.

'No, you're not, dear, put Daddy's feet down.'

'Yes, I am a greasy stove.'

'Charles, I cleaned that stove this morning with Ajax,'
said wipe-me-mommy. 'Did you find dirt on it somewhere?'

'Dirty! Cucky and sissy!' Charles ran into the bathroom and slammed the door six times.

'What's going on?' shouted Father. 'I'm trying to rest my eyes!'

'Charles, do you have to sissy?'

'Sissy!' shouted Father. 'He's thirty-five years old!'

'He's sick.'

'I'm sick, too. Of your sissy.'

'Charles, what are you doing in the bathroom? Do you want me to help you?'

The door opened and he was not alone.

'Is it number one or number two, Charles?'

'One o'clock two o'clock.'

'Come along, dear, you don't have to do anything.' His hand stuck in her arm, the fly was caught. Mister Horrible walked alongside whispering Why don't you kill her, Charles?

'Help!' cried Charles. Yes, bash her head in kill her. No said Good Nobody, bite Mister Thumb, bite bite bite

'Charles, you'll bite your thumb off!'

I am a meat market.

'Are you all right?'

'I'm dead.'

'No, you're not, dear.'

'You know,' said Father, 'this place is a zoo.'

'It's time you were awake, Anthony, you've got things to do.'

Charles is buried in a dark place uptown. The lights are out except one candle. There are no airplanes, not even the mayor.

'I don't have to do anything,' said Father. 'I work all week to pay the rent on this looney bin.'

'Why don't we all have a nice cup of tea?' said Mother, and cups came out of her hand.

Charles sat down three times. This cup, hello, is cracked, and so the movie came on. The cowboy shot in the air. The girls behind Charles giggled. Charles is cracked, they said. He crawled away under the seats through the popcorn.

'Charles, get off the floor.' Father's upside-down face came looking.

'Cracky popcorn.' How did I get under the table.

'Sit up, Charles, it's our favourite English breakfast tea.'

Yes, sit up, Charles, that's a good lunatic. Look at the faces in the ceiling.

'I read in the barbershop,' said Father blowing in his tea, 'popcorn is first in pernicious effect on the human body.'

'You spend too much time at that barbershop.'

'I suppose I should cut my own hair.'

'Have a biscuit, Charles.'

'Gobble, gobble.' Stuff it, up your nose, in your ear.

'Eat your biscuit nicely, darling, you're not a savage.'

Get out of the kitchen, Charles, she's trying to poison our monkey. Stand up, push back chair.

'What do you say, dear?'

'Ankle bush.'

'You say excuse me.'

'Yes sir.' Into the living room with Mister pig snake rooster, what do you say, excuse me. The chair is breathing. Executives like yourself use our credit card anywhere.

Into the bedroom the quiet Mommy room. Oogly boogly nighttime squeak noises come from under here. Squeak squeak oh squeak squeak Anthony squeak squeak I love squeak you squeak

'Charles, come out from under there! Anthony, Charles is under the bed.'

'Maybe he's tired. I'm tired.'

'Charles, you'll get all dusty, though God knows I cleaned under there this morning.'

I am a chair.

'Go on, Charles, get out. Mother has to dress.'

Marching marching one two three to living Vietnam room marching round and round

'Relax, will you, Charles, and let your old man pull himself together.' The old man and the couch were stuck together. Charles rode on a ball which grew larger, then smaller, then crushed him.

Thump thump thump thump

'What the hell goes on in this house!' Father devils came out with little forks, blue and red, let's have a birthday party Charles is five.

Thump through the wallpaper thump down the lane thump you are magic thump here comes Mother.

'Charles, stop banging your head against the wall.'

'I work like a dog all week,' said Father, 'and on my day off, him.'

'Charles, how would you like to go the store for Mother?'

Thump over the rim thump miles away thump gone.

'Come into the kitchen, dear,' said Mother, sticking Charles to her arm, 'and we'll make a list.'

Mommy wrecked the nice trip, said Mister Ugly, and is a spider.

You be quiet, Charles is going to the store as if he was somebody. I'll wear the tablecloth and you throw her out the window.

'Come here, dear, Mother will pin the note on.'

'Nacky nacka.'

'Hold still, Charles.'

'Cracky cracka.'

'When you go in the store, show the man the note.'

'Mickey Mouse.'

'Charles, are you feeling all right?'

'Mister Postcard, hello.'

'Are you too sick to go today?'

Be quiet or she won't let you out. Punch yourself in the arm ten times, it'll help.

'Stop punching yourself, Charles, you'll get cancer. Here's a dollar, now put it in your pocket.'

Charles walked towards the faraway door with his stone feet five thousand years

'Don't get lost and don't be long.'

Just go through the door and don't say anything looney or she'll follow you like she used to follow you to school.

'Be careful, Charles.'

Charles tried to control his legs so they wouldn't walk sideways down the wall. One two these are steps. The walls are certainly old, look at that moss.

Paul Fishey hit him in the head with a stone. Sonofabitch.
The hallway is empty. We'll see you Easter, Gladys.

You been put on earth for a special mission, don't get lost. On your own planet you are a big shot, over.

Just whistling like a person. Don't jump out the bright window. Don't bump anybody.

Just a flight of steps. Sister, I'm stuck to my desk I can't get loose. Now Charles you must stop disrupting this class. Step just steps down we go and there's the bottom, see? Life's not so bad.

A door opened marked 2. Charles waved his foot. The fat lady came out in her fat lady. Six thousand years I'm stepping towards you

'Hello, Charles.'

'Hello, Mrs. Whatsyourname.' Clicking his fingers behind his back not to get bitten, he walked down the hall towards the front door, rubber. Neck stretch to the ceiling hands drag the floor her door closed he came together.

Good work, Charles, we're going to give you your own tree.

So there was the door. The mouthy wall gabbled on the floor water down the stream she sang windy there is a goon in my suit.

We know, Charles, you're afraid to go through the door.

'No, I'm not. Porky on you, Mister Poopey!'

I'll just circle the crack. The airplane flew over with the mayor. Watch out CHARLES here comes the GIRL floating down the block see her with black stone hair nice she

'Hold on,' said Charles. 'This is a person.' He pressed nose lips to the glass door.

Slip lacies and crack softlies she is going to come through the door CHARLES. You owe me four cents. Nice little shoes going sidewalk sidewalk

You'd like to get away, wouldn't you, she's almost here, carrying her books, don't get excited, these are the best years of your life.

Take your nose away from the glass, maniac, she's coming through don't say anything to scare her.

'Boogle.'

Look at the scarey person on her face

'Google. Boogle.'

That's perfect, Charles, through the lobby she goes without eyes, fast away to the stairs.

I am a hanging around bad person, my teeth will fall out.

Well, it's time to go through the door.

Let's turn around three times to make sure. I hear dishes. Be careful, milky chicken, said Terrible Nobody.

Concentrate on the doorknob, please.

I can be there in forty-five years. All right, how about killing the driver.

Place your hand on the doorknob, Charles.

'Suppose I don't want to.'

We'll let the baboons out of your crack we'll send Doctor Electric with his machine we'll kill you

'Help!'

Turn the knob, please.

HERE COMES THE MAILMAN

Nose lips pressed to glass. The door goes crrrk

'Hello, Mister Mailman.'

'Hello, there.'

'I opened the door for you.'

'Yes, you did.'

'Hello, Mister Mailman.'

Mister Mailman has a pencil behind his ear. He makes the wall fall open. I am an old colouring book, a doggie scribbled on.