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Angels In America - Chapter 5

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Welcome to the Mormon Visitor Center Diorama Room.
We're happy to receive you.
We hope you will benefit from what you're about to see.
Sit back, relax. In just a moment, our show will begin.
Please refrain from smoking and food and drink....
There's something wrong with the machinery.
I thought we agreed. You weren't going to--
The main dummy. The big daddy dummy.
He looks just like Joe.
We agreed that you would stop eating in here.
Fix him then. Make him talk.
That's an incredible resemblance.
We can't believe a word that comes out of his mouth...
but the sound of him is reassuring.
He's got a tale to tell, the dummy.
The exodus. The Great Salt Lake.
That's a joke, of course.
They drag you on your knees through hell...
and then when you get there, the water is undrinkable.
Salt.
A promised land all right, but what a disappointing promise.
-Harper, you have got to-- -Can I ask you a question?
What?
There's something that's always bothered me.
Everyone thinks the angel's name was Mormon.
No.
-The name of the angel-- -I know, I went to Sunday school.
-Moroni. -Right.
The angel Moroni.
So why don't we call ourselves Morons?
You should leave.
It's a visitor's center. I'm visiting.
For serious visitors. It's a serious religion.
This is a favor. They let me work here as a favor.
Just so we have some place we can go each day.
It's for your sake, but you keep on making scenes.
Look at this mess.
-It's a garbage dump. -They don't have any lines...
the sister and the mother dummy.
Only his face moves. It's not really fair.
...day after day till....
Till what?
You sound just like him. You even grind your teeth like him.
If I could get him to come back I'd go back to Salt Lake tomorrow.
You can't go back to Salt Lake. You sold your house.
My mother-in-law, she sold her house.
Her son calls and tells her he's a homo, and what does she do?
She sells her house. And she calls me crazy.
You have less of a place in this world than I do, if that's possible.
I call and call.
He won't answer.
I tried to discuss it with the Bishop.
He said they think it's mothers...
who are too close to their sons that cause this.
Well, I guess we've disproved that theory.
I'm not sure this is the best place for you.
I leave, you know, but I always wind up back here...
or in some place just like this.
Alone in the dark, waiting for the dummy.
So, you'll just sit here.
Yeah.
Stuck.
-Yeah. -Till?
His wife.
His mute wife, we're waiting for her to speak.
But her story is not so jolly.
The winter Atlantic. Wow, huh?
Ferocious.
It's freezing. What're we doing?
There used to be guys in the dunes even when it snowed.
Nothing deterred us from the task at hand.
-Which was? -Exploration...
across an unmapped terrain: the body of the homosexual human male.
Here, the Ramble...
the scrub pines on Fire lsland, the Saint Mark's Baths.
-Hardy pioneers, like your ancestors. -Not exactly.
Many have perished on the trail.
I fucked around a lot more than he did.
No justice.
I love it when you can get to places and see what it used to be.
The whole country was like this once.
-Paradise. -Ruined now.
Still a great country.
Best place on Earth.
Best place to be.
What am I doing with you?
With anyone. I should be exterminated. But with you?
Married, probably bisexual...
Mormon, Republican closet-case.
I mean, I really like you a lot, but....
So the fruity underwear you wear....
-Temple garment. -Oh, my God.
-What's it for? -Protection.
Second skin.
I can stop wearing it.
How can you stop wearing it if it's a skin?
Your past, your beliefs.
In bed, you're so sweet. I don't see how you believe the stuff you do.
I don't wanna fight now. Stop attacking me, Louis.
You make no sense. The Republican party....
I hate the Democrats, too, but the Republicans...
half religious zealots wanting to control every breath every citizen takes...
and half ego-anarchist, libertarian cowboys...
shrilling for no government.
McCarthyism.
Watergate, Pat Buchanan, Jesse Helms....
Barry Goldwater, George Will.
George Bush, Newt Gingrich.
Objectively speaking, a rum bunch.
Responsible for everything bad and evil in the world.
Throw Reagan on the pile and you're not far off.
If people like you didn't have President Reagan to demonize...
where would you be?
If he didn't have people like me to demonize, where would he be?
Upper right-hand square on the Hollywood Squares.
I'm not your enemy, Louis.
-I never said you were. -Can't you be, I don't know, happy?
No one is happy.
You believe the world is perfectible.
-No. -Yes, you do.
And so you find it unsatisfying.
You have to reconcile yourself to the world's unperfectability.
Be in the world, but not of the world.
-That's what being a Mormon is. -That's what being a schizophrenic is.
Republican, Democrat, it's life.
Time is conservative. It moves slow. Accept that.
Don't be tragic.
Accept as rightfully yours the happiness that comes your way.
I have no idea what you're talking about.
What you did when you walked out on him was hard to do.
The world may not understand it or approve...
but you did what you needed to do.
I consider you very brave.
Nobody does what I did, Joe. Nobody.
Maybe many want to.
Hear what I'm saying.
Free from politics.
You are in yourself a good man.
And I admire you.
-I believe in you. I do. -I know you do.
You seem to be able to live with what you've done.
You abandoned your wife, and you're not torn up and guilty about it.
You blossomed, and that's terrible.
But you're not a terrible person. You're a decent, caring man...
and it's just not possible.
Looking at you, it seems to be, you do seem free.
-And happy. -I am.
At night, you sleep peacefully. You don't have these terrible...
awful, horrible dreams.
No, I never have any dreams at all.
I'm just stressed.
No dreams at all. That would be amazing.
-I think I love you. -I want to see Prior again.
You wanna go back?
I just need to see him again. I miss him.
-You must want to see your wife. -I want more to be--
I have to see him.
It's been a month. I'm worried.
Please don't look so sad.
-You understand? -You don't want to see me anymore?
-No, l.... -Louis, anything.
-What? -Anything.
Whatever you want, I can give up. My skin.
What are you doing?
Come on. It's freezing!
Someone will see us.
-It's not a nude beach! -I'm flayed.
No past now. I could give up anything.
In what we've been doing, maybe I'm even infected.
I don't wanna be!
I wanna live now. I can be anything I need to be.
And I wanna be with you!
You have a good heart.
The good thing is to be guilty...
and kind always.
But it's not always kind to be gentle and soft.
There's a genuine violence in softness and weakness.
Sometimes, self-interested is the most generous thing you can be.
-You ought to think about that. -I will.
You ought to think about what you're doing to me.
No, I mean, what you need.
Think about what you need.
Be brave.
And then you'll come back to me.
Then you'll come back to me.
Bitter lady of the plains...
talk to me.
Tell me what to do. I'm stuck.
My heart's an anchor.
Look.
The magic of the theater, or something.
Look at you, so perfect in place.
The desert, the mountains, the previous century.
Maybe I could have believed in you then.
Maybe we should never have moved East.
Was it a hard thing to do, crossing the prairies?
You ain't stupid. So don't ask stupid. Ask something for real.
In your experience of the world, how do people change?
Well, it has something to do with God.
So it's not very nice.
God splits the skin with a jagged thumbnail from throat to belly.
Then plunges a huge, filthy hand in.
He grabs hold of your bloody tubes.
You slip to evade his grasp, but he squeezes hard. He insists.
He pulls and pulls...
till all your innards are yanked out.
And the pain...
I can't even talk about that.
Then he stuffs them back...
dirty, tangled, torn.
It's up to you to do the stitching.
Get up.
Walk around.
Just mangled guts pretending.
Yeah.
That's how people change.
It's Lou.
I wanna see you.
It's 5:00 a.m.
You ought to change that shirt. It's starting to smell.
You're telling me.
At first, it can be very hard...
to accept how disappointing life is, Harper.
But that's what it is, and you have to accept it.
With faith and time...
and hard work, you do get to a point where...
the disappointment doesn't hurt so much...
and it gets actually easier to live with.
Quite easy.
Which is, in its own way, a disappointment.
But....
I'm not like you.
Strange things happen to me all the time, Mother Pitt.
Maybe I'm a witch.
You're not a witch.
I could be a witch. Why not? I married a fairy.
Anything can happen.
Any awful thing.
It's raw out there.
You put this on.
My mother used to open up every window mid-winter mornings.
Cold, fresh air. Wake up the dead.
It gave me no end of nightmares.
An implacable hatred of winter.
This is gonna be so much worse than I'd imagined.
-Hello. -Fuck you, you little shitbag.
If you want the smoke and puffery then you'll listen to Kissinger and Schultz.
When you want to look at the heart of modern conservatism...
you look at me.
Everyone else has abandoned the struggle.
Everything nowadays, just sipping tea with Nixon and Mao.
That was disgusting. Did you see that?
-Were you born yet? -Of course I was.
My generation, we had clarity.
Unafraid to look deep into the miasma at the heart of the world.
What a pit.
What a nightmare is there. I have looked.
All my life, I've searched for absolute bottom.
And I found it, believe me.
Stygian.
How tragic...
how brutal and short life is.
Sinful, people are.
The immutable heart of what we are that bleeds through...
whatever we might become.
All else is vanity.
I don't know the world anymore.
After I die, they're gonna say I did it for the money and the headlines.
I never did it for the money.
It's the moxie that counts.
I never wavered.
You remember.
I will, Roy.
I was afraid you wouldn't wanna see me.
If you'd forgive me for letting you down.
Forgiveness?
Do you see a lady around here?
Dumpy lady with a stupid hat?
She.... Oh, boy.
She's off watching the hearings.
Treacherous bitch.
Who?
Did you get a blessing from your father before he died?
A blessing?
-Yeah. -No.
You should have done that.
Life, that's what they're supposed to bless.
Roy, I need to talk to you about--
Shush, don't fuck up the magic.
You don't even have to trick it out of me like.... What's his name, in the Bible?
-Jacob. -That's the one.
Ruthless motherfucker.
Some bald runt...
but he laid hold of his birthright with his claws and his teeth.
-Jacob's father, what was his name? -lsaac.
A sacrifice? That jerk.
My mother used to read me those stories.
See the scar on my nose?
When I was 3 months old, I had a bony spur.
She made them operate, shave it off.
They said I was too young for surgery, I'd outgrow it.
But she insisted.
I figure she wanted to toughen me up.
It worked.
I am tough.
It's taking a lot to dismantle me.
Don't waste energy beating up on me. I'm already taking care of that.
-I don't see any bruises. -lnside.
You are one noble guy inside.
Don't flatter yourself.
So, it's your tea party. Talk.
It's good to see you again. I missed you.
Talk.
-I want to try to make up. -Make up?
You don't have to be so hostile.
Don't I get any points for trying to arrive at a resolution?
-Maybe what I did isn't forgivable. -lt isn't.
But I'm trying to be responsible.
There are limits, boundaries. You have to be reasonable.
Why are you dressed like that?
You were saying something about being reasonable.
I've been giving this a lot of thought. Yes, I fucked up.
That's obvious. But maybe you fucked up, too.
You never trusted me.
Never gave me a chance to find my footing. Not really.
You were so quick to attack.
I think maybe just too much of a victim, finally.
Passive, dependent.
What I think is that people do have a choice...
-about how they handle-- -You wanna come back?
Why? Atonement? Exoneration?
I didn't say I wanted to come back.
No, you didn't.
I can't move in again, start all over again.
I've moved. I don't think it'd be any different.
You're seeing someone else.
-What? No. -You are!
I'm not.
Occasionally.... He's just a pickup.
Damn! Ask me how I knew.
-How? -Threshold of revelation.
-What? -Fuck you! I'm a prophet!
Reasonable? Limits?
Tell it to my lungs, stupid. Tell it to my lesions.
Tell it to the cotton-woolly patches in my eyes.
-Prior, I haven't seen him for days now. -I'm going. I have limits, too.
You're crying.
You endanger nothing in yourself.
It's like the idea of crying when you do it.
Or the idea of love.
Attention. Visiting hours are now over.
Now you have to go.
I left my wife.
I needed to tell you.
Too late.
It happens.
I've been staying with someone else for a whole month now.
Happens.
How can I say this?
With a...
man.
I'm with a....
A man?
Yes.
You're with a man?
Yes.
I got to....
What? The bathroom, or....
What?
No. What are you doing? No, Roy!
Hold on.
Wait, keep your hand up.
God.
Help, please. He pulled the....
Holy shit.
Get the fuck away from me.
-Please, just get back in your room. -Shut up!
You listen to me.
-Get your ass-- -Shut up, I said!
Now, you listen here.
I want you home with your wife.
Whatever else you got going, cut it down.
-I can't, I need to be-- -Listen to me.
Do what I say or you will regret it.
And don't talk to me about it...
ever again.
I never saw that coming.
You kill me.
Take off that shirt and throw it out. Don't touch the blood.
-Why? I don't understand. -Out!
I already gave you my blessing.
What more do you want from me?
-Get the fuck out of here. -But, please, l....
You wanna stay and watch this?
-No. -Fuck you, too!
-So, your new lover-- -He's not my lover.
-Tell me where you met him. -ln the park.
Well, first at work.
-He's a lawyer or a judge? -Lawyer.
-A gay lawyer? -Yes.
Republican, too.
A gay Republican lawyer.
And he's sort of....
I don't know if the word....
In a way, sensitive.
-Sensitive gay Republican. -He's just company. Companionship.
Just when I think he couldn't possibly say anything to make it worse...
he does.
Companionship. How good.
I wouldn't want you to be lonely.
There are thousands of gay men in New York City with AlDS.
Nearly every one of them is being taken care of by a friend...
or by a lover who has stuck by them...
through things worse than mine...
so far.
Everyone got that. Except me.
I got you.
Why?
What's wrong with me?
Are you really bruised inside?
-I can't have this talk-- -The least of things you can't do.
-So fragile. Answer me. Inside, bruises? -Yes.
Come back to me when they're visible.
I wanna see black-and-blue. I wanna see blood.
I can't believe you have blood in your veins till you show it to me.
So don't come near me again...
unless you've got something to show.
Every goddamn thing I ever wanted, they've taken from me.
Mocked and reviled all my life.
Join the club.
I don't belong to any club...
you could get through the front door of.
What's your name?
Norman Ariaga.
"Belize" to my friends, but you can call me Norman Ariaga.
Tell me something, Norman.
You ever hire a lawyer?
No, Roy, never did.
Hire a lawyer, sue somebody. It's good for the soul.
Lawyers are the high priests of America.
We alone know the words that made America...
out of thin air.
And we alone know how to use the words.
The law...
the only club I ever wanted to belong to.
Before they take that from me...
I'm gonna die.
Look who's back.
Who?
Nobody with me now...
but the dead.
He's a clerk. Joe Pitt.
-Yeah, this is his office. -This is stupid.
-Go home if you're chicken. -You should be home.
I have a hobby now: haunting people. Fuck home.
Wait here. I wanna meet my replacement.
Oh, God.
Yes? Can l.... What?
-Do you need something? -No.
-Could you-- -I'm a prophet.
-What? -Prophet!
I prophesy. I have sight, I see.
-What do you do? -I'm a clerk.
Big deal. A clerk? What, you file things?
Keep a file on the hearts you break. That's all that counts in the end.
You'll have bills to pay in the world to come...
you and your friend, the Whore of Babylon.
Sorry, wrong room.
He's the Marlboro Man.
I wanna see.
-Sweet lord of Jesus. -What is....
You're Roy's nurse. I recognize you.
-No, you don't. -You're from the hospital.
-You're Roy Cohn's nurse. -No, I'm not a nurse.
We all look alike to you, you all look alike to us. It's a mad world.
-Home on the range. -Chaps and spurs.
Now, girl, we gotta get you home.
Mega butch! He made me feel beyond nelly...
Iike wispy daisies are sprouting out my ears.
Run.
Wait.
What game are you playing? This is a federal courthouse.
You said something about....
Who are you?
I'm nothing. I'm a mental patient. He's my nurse.
I'm not his nurse.
We're here because my will's being contested. What's that called?
Competency?
-But this is an appellate court. -And I'm appealing to anyone!
Anyone in the universe who'll listen to me for some charity.
Some people are so greedy. Such pigs!
They have health, everything. Still they want more.
You said something about my friend.
Look, is this about Louis? Is he....
Is he what? Sad, hot, happy?
Talk to him yourself, Bullwinkle. What do I look like, a marriage counselor?
Nursie, dear, fetch the medication. I'm starting to rave.
Behave yourself, cheri, or nanny will have to use the wooden spoon.
Nice angel.
What angel?
Bethesda.
What's she commemorate, Louis? I'll bet you know.
The naval dead of the Civil War.
The Civil War. I knew you'd know.
You are nothing if not well-informed.
This is Prior's favorite place in the park.
Listen, I saw him.
-Prior. -Prior's upset.
Is he okay? He seemed...
-not himself. He seemed-- -Crazy?
Is he delusional?
With a little help from his friends.
Listen, this guy I'm seeing, I'm not seeing him now.
-Prior misunderstood-- -Oh, yeah. Your new beau.
Prior and me went to the courthouse, scoped him out.
-You had no right to do that. -Did we violate your rights?
Why did you call me here? I don't have time for you.
You walk out on your lover.
Days don't pass before you're out on the town with somebody new.
I am not out on the town. I want you to tell Prior--
...share your dank and dirty bed with Roy Cohn's butt-boy.
Come again?
-Doesn't that bother you at all? -Roy Cohn?
What the fuck are you.... I'm not sharing my bed--
Your little friend didn't tell you?
Joe Pitt is not Roy Cohn's....
Joe's a very moral man. He's not even that conservative.
Not that kind of a.... I don't wanna continue this.
Bye-bye.
It's not my fault that Prior left you for me.
I beg your pardon?
You've always hated me because you are in love with Prior.
You were when I met him, and he fell in love with me.
So now you cook up this....
I mean, how do you know this?
That Joe and Roy Cohn--
I don't know whether Cohn has penetrated more than his spiritual sphincter.
All I'm saying is you better hope there's no GOP germ. If there is, you got it.
I don't believe you.
Not Roy Cohn!
He's, like...
the polestar of human evil.
He's the worst human being who ever lived. He's not human even.
Give me credit for something. Please.
I'm horribly unhappy, I'm lost...
I hate myself so fucking totally and completely.
But still...
I wouldn't go around sleeping with someone who's Roy Cohn's....
Butt-boy.
I'm so fucking wet and miserable.
I want everything to go back the way it was.
Wouldn't that be convenient and all?
You know what your problem is?
Your problem is that you are so full of piping-hot crap...
that the mention of your name draws flies.
You don't know thing one about this guy, do you?
Ain't that pathetic? And just so the record's straight...
I love Prior, but I was never in love with him.
I have a man uptown and I have since long before...
I first laid eyes on the sorry-ass sight of you.
-I didn't know that you had a-- -No, because you never bothered to ask.
Up in the air, just like that angel.
Too far off the earth to pick out the details. Louis and his big ideas.
Big ideas are all you love.
America is what Louis loves.
So what?
Maybe I do. You don't know what I love.
-You don't. -I hate America.
I hate this country.
Nothing but a bunch of big ideas, and stories...
and people dying, and then people like you.
The white cracker who wrote the national anthem...
set the word "free" to a note so high nobody could reach it.
That was deliberate.
Nothing on earth sounds less like freedom to me.
You come with me to Room 1013 at the hospital, I'll show you America.
Terminal, crazy, and mean.
I live in America.
I don't have to love it. You do that. Everybody's got to love something.
Everybody does.
He's a Mormon?
How is she?
Nothing surprising.
Thank you, ma'am.
Is she okay?
That would be surprising, wouldn't it?
I couldn't go home, Ma. I had to see her.
-I'm afraid. -Three whole weeks?
-Has it been three? -Afraid of what?
I didn't come to New York to volunteer.
I thought you did.
Don't be a fat-head.
-I'm not. -ln your way, you always were.
Then why?
My motives are a mystery to me.
I have a theory about you, though.
There's no possible thing I can imagine you doing, Ma.
-You shouldn't have come. -You made that clear as day...
for a month now. You can't even return a simple phone call.
A phone call from you is not so simple.
Just so I'd have something to tell her.
This insanity.
Your wife, left like a loony in a roomful of mannequins.
And you, living in some rainy rooftop, for all I know.
I call you at work just so I can have something to say to her.
You can't talk on the phone, and you won't call me back.
Like I'm poison. What do you call that? Vitality?
It'd be pathetic if it weren't so ugly.
-It's cruel. -Not intended to be.
Are you sure about that?
-I'm taking her home. -Do you think that's best for her?
-I know what I'm doing. -I think you have no clue.
But that's only typical of you.
You're a man, you botch up, it's not such a big deal.
-Just being a man doesn't-- -Being a woman is harder.
-Look at her. -It's a big deal, Ma...
botching up. I could use some....
I migrated across the breadth of the continent of North America.
I ran all this way to get away from....
Is she....
-She's not here. -She's not at the apartment.
Then she escaped.
Good for her.
Ask yourself...
what it was you were running from. It's about time you did.
Not from me. I was nothing.
But from what?
And what are you running from now?
You have a responsibility to your wife.
-You cannot wish it away. -I want to....
I don't know anymore what I want.
What you want.
That shifts with the breeze.
How can you steer your life by what you want?
Hold to what you believe.
You and me...
it's like we're in Salt Lake again.
You sort of bring the desert with you.
Are you....
Don't cry.
If I ever do...
I promise you...
you'll not be privileged to witness it.
It was a mistake.
I should never have called you.
You should never have come.
I can't imagine why you did.
That man who was just here...
We're closed. Go away.
...is he your son?
You know him, Batman? How do you know....
My ex-boyfriend, he knows him now.
I wanted to warn your son about later, when his hair goes...
and his hips and jowls, and all that human stuff.
That poor slob there is gonna wind up miserable, fat, frightened, and alone.
Because Louis, he can't handle bodies.
Are you a homosexual?
Is it that obvious? Yes, I am. What's it to you?
Would you say you are a typical...
-homosexual? -Me?
No, I'm stereotypical. What do you mean, like, am I a hairdresser?
Are you a hairdresser?
It would be your lucky day if I was, because frankly....
I'm sick. It's expensive.
Shit, now I won't be able to stop.
Now it's started. I feel really terrible.
Do I have a fever?
-Yes. -How high?
-Maybe there's a thermometer somewhere. -Very high.
Would you get me to a cab to....
I think I'm....
Don't be alarmed. It's worse than it looks. I mean....
You should....
Can you stand?
No, let me see if there's anyone back here.
Lack of breath. I overdid it.
I'm in trouble again. Take me to Saint Vincent's Hospital.
Help me to a cab.
Here.
-Can you stand? -No, don't. Just call me a cab.
It's all right, I'm useless here.
That's it.
Please, if you're trying to convert me, this isn't a good time.
Look at it out there.
That's a boy.
We'd better move.
You all right?
Where are they all going?
The end of the world is at hand.
Hello, paleface.
Nothing like storm clouds over Manhattan to get you in the mood for Judgment Day.
It's freezing.
-It's starting to rain. Where are your shoes? -I threw them in the river.
The Judgment Day.
Everyone will think they're crazy now, not just me.
Everyone will see things.
Sick men will see angels...
women who have houses will sell their houses.
Dime-store dummies will rear up on their wood-putty legs...
and roam the land, looking for brides.
-Let's go home. -Where's that?
You wanna buy an island?
It's going out of business.
You can have it for the usual cheap trinkets.
Fire sale. The prices are insane.
Did you miss me?
-I've come back. -Oh, I know.
Here's why I wanna stay in Brooklyn.
The view.
Water won't ever accomplish the end, no matter how much you cry.
A flood's not the answer. People just float.
Let's go in.
Fire's the answer.
The great and terrible day at last.
Mira, it was on last night when I got home. It's called She.
And I'm telling you, hand to my heart, the greatest movie ever made.
There's this fabulous chick called "She who must be obeyed."
-She lives on this hill with-- -Excuse me.
I beg your pardon?
I gotta get out of here.
I know...
but first, we have to make you better.
What?
The boogeyman is here.
Lookit, Ma.
A shwartze toytenmann.
Come in, sweetheart.
What took you so long?
You're flying, Roy. It's morphine.
They put morphine in the drip.
You awake?
Can you see who I am?
Yeah.
You came for my mama years ago.
Wrap your arms around me now.
Squeeze the bloody life from me, okay?
No, it's not okay.
-Dark, strong arms. -You're stoned, Roy.
Take me like that.
Deep and sincere, but not too rough.
Just open me up...
to the end of me.
Who am l?
The Negro night nurse.
My negation...
come to escort me to the underworld.
Come on!
You want me, Roy?
Want me to take you away?
God, I'm ready.
I'll be coming for you soon.
Everything I want is in the end of you.
Can I ask you something, sir?
Sir?
What's it like...
after?
After?
This misery ends?
Hell or heaven?
Like San Francisco.
A city.
Good.
I was worried it'd be a garden.
I hate that shit.
Big city...
overgrown with weeds...
but flowering weeds.
On every corner...
a wrecking crew...
and something new and crooked going up catty-corner to that.
Windows missing in every edifice, like broken teeth...
gritty wind...
and a gray, high sky full of ravens.
Isaiah.
Prophet birds, Roy.
Piles of trash...
but lapidary like rubies and obsidian...
and diamond-colored cows spit streamers in the wind...
and voting booths.
And everyone in Balenciaga gowns with red corsages.
Big dance palaces full of music and lights.
Racial impurity and gender confusion.
And all the deities...
are Creole.
Mulatto.
Brown as the mouths of rivers.
Race, taste...
and history...
are finally overcome.
And you ain't there.
And heaven?
That was heaven, Roy.
The fuck it was.
Who are you?
Your negation.
I know you.
You're nothing.
Stomach grumble.
Wakes you in the night.
Been nice talking to you.
Go to sleep now, baby.
I'm just the shadow on your grave.
Why do you keep your eyes closed?
-I don't. -You always do.
You can say why. I already know the answer.
-Then why do I have to? -Do you imagine things?
Imagine men?
Yes.
Imagining, just like me.
Except the only time I wasn't imagining is when I was with you.
You.
The only part of the real world I wasn't allergic to.
Please don't.
But I only thought I wasn't dreaming.
Back in Brooklyn, back with Joe.
I'm going out.
I have to get some stuff I left behind.
Look at me.
Here! Look here at me!
-What do you see? -What do l....
-What do you see? -Nothing.
I see nothing.
-Thank you. -For what?
Finally, the truth.
I'm going. Out.
Just out.
Goodbye.
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