Confusion of Tongues

"The grub wasn't always too bad, when it wasn't spoiled and the creepy crawlies weren't busy making their nests between bites. You know a few days worth of field rations can buy quite a bit on the streets of _______. & If there's one thing you didn't go lacking for, its entertainment. You'd be tickled to see the ease in which family men whore their nearest & dearest when the tables are bare- it's back to god given commodities at such times, believe you me.

I went several days without in preparation.

A man from the ghettos bartered me his daughter. He was weeping like a girl himself during the entire transaction. I tried to walk away, really I did, but he kept grabbing my sleeve whenever I turned, begging me to take her. What else could I do? I didn't want his family to starve.

I paid him his wage & he led us to a building in the Southside. Even though it was far out of range of the front, it was still a jagged smoking ruin with the roof caved in, the walls crumbling & the stench of mortar thick in the air.

I said no way but the girl grabbed my crotch & breathed something foreign into my ear; whatever it was, it sounded spectacularly dirty.

God she smelled rotten, she couldn't have eaten in more than a week. I forgot all my apprehensions instantly.

We went in. There was vermin crawling all over the crumbs, big sharp teeth & red eyes sounding like a million rusty hinges turning & hungry as all hell. It was a good thing I had boots on. There little bodies crunched like stale bread & I had to carry the girl over the divide like a newly hitched couple on that special night.

The room she chose didn't even have as much of a cot in the corner. She stripped off her rags as I crouched on the rubble & tossed them into my lap with a twirl of her sooty fingers.

Her breasts were unexceptional, saggy & deflated before they're prime; I ordered her about face; she complied without a syllable, intuiting my next command & standing ramrod straight, squeezing her statuesque legs tightly, which caused her pale buttocks to seize up, flexing admirably in the light of my torch, the only source of illumination in the hollowed out ruin.

I inspected her posterior for several minutes, the curvature of her flesh from every possible angle, up down left right, taking every opportunity to size up that firm tail pipe but my modest purchase seemed devoid of memorable attributes save the astoundingly perfect bottom.

I would take hold of each mound & weight them in my hands, trying to detect some modicum of difference, no matter how small.

Pinch, prod, poke, I couldn't seem to locate any divergence, they were completely as they appeared, equal in all respect. Even they're luster- beige under the light- was totally alike, even after suffering the uncomfortable advances of my eager hands, their hue remained undisturbed.

So I slapped her for a time, first one cheek, than the other, enjoying the squeals, the fleshy whacks, measuring the red that slowly inched its away around , encompassing both globes.

I was so delighted at the magnitude of my discovery, the ideal asset, that I sat at the sidelines, unsure of what to do next. There was only one answer.

Reaching forward, I clawed at the border separating both nation states to expose the heart of the matter. She helpfully reached behind & held her bumpers open, long cracked nails digging into warm skin. With a cluck of joy I ran a finger down that red valley, eliciting a fit of giggles.

My purchase seemed especially ticklish.

I did this for a few more moments, amused at the hitching gasps I drew, before diving in at the precise moment her chuckles reached a crescendo, sinking my finger knuckle deep into"-

& here he broke off, straightening up.

"Oh my, I must apologize- we were going to inspect the bedroom weren't we?"

We ascended the hardwood staircase, tromping slowly upwards into the grasping shadows. The cozy afternoon sunlight relinquished its hold & retreated backward, the vestibule living room growing strangely distant.

We exchanged no words during the trip, even as I grew breathless mounting the hardwood steps one by one, trailing shortly behind my navigator.

There seemed to be, in the confining darkness of the 2nd floor, too many steps, our feet pounding out the discordant beats of an unpleasant melody, time almost at a standstill as I stared out the passing slats of the coiling banister, reminding me of oak bars rather than its actual purpose, my palm sliding smoothly atop.

His back too was just another mass of inky blackness drowning in a sea of it, a million miles away despite nearly brushing the tip of my nose. In the hallway it was brighter, daylight leaking out from under the passing bedroom doors. The hardwood gave way to checkered carpet, black & white squares lined up in perplexing patterns beneath my feet and it was while crossing that it seemed to me the harder I looked the more the patterns seemed to....shift , almost imperceptibly out of the corner my eye. It was a silent sort of movement, pulsing even, a subtle kind of trembling.

The longer & harder I stared the more the squares seemed to shift allegiances, from light to dark to dark to light, all the while like the slow plod of a hill of ants, barely there, hidden.

At the end of the hall was the master bedroom with the biggest & heaviest door yet. After we'd passed through the threshold, from the hallway into the luminous quarters of the master of the house, he heaved the thing shut, making a terrific slam that seemed to shake the very foundations of the estate, the yellow walls of the musty room shuddering slightly.

Here the sun shone radiantly on the yellowish carpet, a buffed bureau to my right against the far wall & on the opposite side of the room the queen sized bed wrapped in a comforter with a strangely colored eagle emblazoned on it.

Now there were no neighborhood noises to breach the heavy silence, no passing cars to draw the eye nor chirping birdsong to catch the ear, just the lone work of the Grandfather clock in the first corner beside the bureau, wheezing rhythmically in ticks & tocks.

And in the other corner one more brass knobbed doorway.

The beat of my heart accelerated into a hearty gallop, breath growing ragged waiting for him to say something. For whatever reason, as he stood there smiling sweetly at me the room itself struck in me a chord of unease.

Everything appeared to be on the level. I couldn't fault the upkeep other than a thin layer of dust coating the surfaces of the dressers, nothing was even slightly out of order; maybe that was why.... it amplified the emptiness there, a complete lack of character in the chambers that was unbelievably lonesome & sad; it had me turning my back to him again.

He walked over to the far door in the right corner though & for a moment simply stood there staring, finally reaching into his pocket, digging around. His eyes never left mine as he did, holding my gaze with frosty ease.

The tiny key rose to prominence, held up in front of his nose so I could discern it clearly. For some reason I just nodded, like I bared no control over the muscles in my own neck.

He turned, inserting the key into the opening below the brass handle. There was the sound of a click, loud in the high strung quiet & then the door was open, a great yawning maw behind it, impenetrable shadow that he reached into without a second thought before I could even voice as much as a squeak. Holding back a gasp I watched as half of him melted into that dark, dead certain, though I knew- knew it to be lunacy.... he would lean into the blackness.....& never be seen again.

It was pitch of a degree that seemed endless, that fathomless black interior would swallow up the afternoon light for a mid day snack & still not be satisfied. To my mind, there was nothing less than a black hole in that closet, infinite & unknowable & I had to turn away to bite back the wave of nausea that suddenly rushed over me, my head spinning with the revelation.

Taking a few deep breaths, letting the musty air wash away the sudden lurching in my stomach I slowly turned back-

and came face to face with the mask he held out in both hands.

It was golden like the late afternoon light, elegant instead of schlocky, a Harlequin's disguise, ridged in all the appropriate places & a perfect fit with a man's face which he promptly proved, drawing the securing strap up & over his head & perching the thing on his broad features. Hazel eyes looked out at me from behind the porcelain surface, appraising all with a disinterested gaze.

The site of him there, face hidden with no more than an elaborate Halloween prop, silent save the heavy wet breathing, transfixed my entire being; I couldn't breakaway.

His head tweaked this way & that, examining me from different angles, tenting his head to his shoulder, looking at me like I was the alien in the room. Everything about him was perfectly still, perfectly composed & listless; back straight like a board, hands hanging at his sides, all except the almost robotic swing of his neck, measured & methodical as he took in every inch of me.

It seemed mocking, this cold evaluation & I tried to turn, to pull the door open & flee that strange unmoored abode & it's teasing benefactor.... but something kept me rooted, compelled me forward, synching up with his odd rhythm, following him into the closet even when he beckoned with a sudden twist of his masked chin.

And as soon the as the door clicked shut behind the whispers started.