56

OSCILLATIONS

Suddenly everything starts churning. Using all
anchored organs for ballast, she holds herself

together; he will not shake her up, will not frag-
ment her. His belly bloats with gases, goes into
a rumble. So! He is trying to purge himself by
purging her. The rejection infuriates her. She
will come out when she is good and ready, and
she will use the exit of her choice. Tough shit,
Manuelo! She braces herself against his spasms.

P'S&Q’S

“Mind them!” her mother had warned. But what
were they? She had learned the alphabet thor-
oughly but the deeper meanings of p’s and q's
had eluded her. If she had gone further in her
study of letters, would she have led a simpler
life?

REFLECTION

MM strains.

O resists.

The battle is in earnest. Some old words rise to
the occasion. “The man who hates you and the
woman who is hated are probably one and the
same,” her psychiatrist had suggested, madden-
ing her (at the time) into silence.

Was he speaking of suicide?

Hers?

The thought sobers her and sheds light. After
all, itis almost spring out there. The crocuses are
already beginning their day-open night-close
ritual. She could if she chose walk outside with-
out a coat, breathing sunlight. Someone, also
without a coat, might be coming round the cor-
ner, fated to bump chests with her. Her mind
too, sherealizes, can turn corners. And certainly
Abigale, herold friend, must be waiting for her in
the park this very moment.

SURE IS

His stomach is storming around her with*a ven-
geance. She holds on for dear life. O yes, it is so
so dear, good old life. It is indeed of the es-
sence, hers in particular. Her imagination has
never yet failed her. She will live! Out of the
darkness, the closet, the belly of this male
whale. The way is lighted by divine coincidence
as MM opens his mouth widely to expel a belch.
The light rays down his throat, a sign. Her route
has been decided. Really, there are possibilities
in everything, even a belch, she concludes.

TRANSLATION (AFTER RILKE)

Manuelo has thrown caution to the winds. “Do
something,” he pleads. “I need help.”

“Yes,” agrees the doctor, “you must change
your life.”

O but it hurts! His eyes are blind with tears.
Manuelo weeps with the effort to.restrain them.

UNITED SHE CAN

He falls back into his chair, trying to relax, inad-
vertently giving her the room she needs to ma-
neuver. She holds herself snugly in her own
arms; they mate with their respective sockets,
home at last. Now, able to manipulate with her
hands, the rest is easy. She catches her drifting
breasts and fixes them onto her chest. She knows
which is which, having observed in moments of
self-criticism that the left is slightly larger than
the right. It occurs to her at this juncture that
nature is purposive in all plans. Nothing is very
much like anything else, each thing is essentially
itself and under no compulsion to be other.
Goodbye then, Manuelo’s Olympia! Goodbye
velvet settee and languid pose! MM'’s ass presses
down into the seat, squeezing her upward. Her
body rises toward her head and miraculously
naturally unites with it. He cannot keep her
down. He does not want to. She is on her way.

VOYAGING

Still afraid that she will fall apart—these connec-
tions are so tenuous, so untested —she kicks her
feet, gingerly at first, then with increasing vigor
as she finds to her elation that they will move
her. She paddles upward toward his heart. O the
current there is strong; she struggles bravely; she
falters, sucked into its vortex; she kicks, she flails
and manages, through stratagems newly known
to science, to bypass the whole throbbing mass.
The worst is over. She catches her breath at his
lungs and then, with a great final spurt, dives
through his esophagus.

WHOOPS!

She spills out of his mouth.

“Hi, Manuelo.”

“Olympial!”

They stand gaping at each other, both of them
messy with blood and other slime. She sets him
straight at once. “My real name’s Claire. Can |
take a shower?”