Dhalgren

Kid smiled back and wished he hadn’t.

It isn’t his moon I distrust so much, he thought, as it is that first wife in Persia. “I understand,” he said, “as much as I’ll let myself.”

“Maybe,” Kamp said after a moment, “you do. Let’s go back down to the party.”

Walking down the steps, Kid felt self-betrayed and wondered if there were any benefit from the feeling. He wanted to find Lanya and De

Outside on the terrace, while the Captain, beside him, looked around as if for someone else to talk to, Kid thought: I feel the responsibility for him now he probably hoped I felt the night I walked him up here. That is not right, and I don’t like it.

Ernestine Throckmorton said, “Captain! Kid! Ah, there you are,” and began to talk definitely only to Kamp.

Kid excused himself, wondering whether she really was an angel, and went down into the gardens.

Lanya was crossing the bridge in a fury of emerald and indigo.

“Hey,” he said. “Have you seen De

She turned. “You haven’t. He’s feeling abandoned.”

Paul Fenster, holding his drink beneath his chin, stepped around Kid and said: “Jesus Christ, you’ll never believe what was going on back there in April. I didn’t think I was going to be able to make it.” He laughed.

Lanya didn’t, and asked, “What?”

“A whole bunch of black kids, back in April, they’ve got this whole routine worked out. They’ve got this white boy, called Tarzan: And they were just performing! And of course Roger’s nice old colonel from Alabama was there—the one I was telling you about who gave me so much trouble when I was visiting—and of course he was laughing harder than anybody else. I kid you not, they were swinging from the God-damn trees!”

“What did you do?” Lanya had begun to laugh.

“Sweated a lot,” Fenster said. “And tried to think of some way to leave. You know, guys who come to parties like this in berets and talk about liberating the furniture: Now I’m pretty into that. But I guess that type all had sense enough to get out of Bellona while there was some getting. This Stepin Fetchit stuff, though—well, all I can say is, it’s been a while!”

“Suffering’s supposed to be good for the something-or-other,” Kid said.

“It damn,” Fenster replied, “well better be!” He grunted (simianly?) and walked on across the bridge.

Lanya took Kid’s hand. “…De

“Yeah.”

“I just left him.” Her dress was shimmering black. A silver circle rose on the hem. “In March.” She gestured with her head.

He said, “You’re beautiful.”

He thought, she’s wistful.

“Thank you. You really like the dress?”

He nodded, kept nodding, and suddenly she laughed and closed his mouth with her fingers.

“I believe you. But I was begi

Kid held her cool hands against his face with his warm ones. “Let’s find De

Dawn broke on her waist. “You find him,” she said. “I’ll see you a little later.” A scarlet sun, haloed in yellow, eclipsed the silver moon.

He wondered why but said, “Okay,” and left her on the bridge.

The stream became a pool in March, scaled with immobile leaves.

“I told that bitch!” Dollar stood and rocked on bowed legs. “I told that bitch. After what she tried, you know? I just told her.”

De

Kid walked around the pool. “You trying to get in trouble at my party?”

Dollar’s head jerked: he looked scared.

De

“I ain’t done nothing,” Dollar echoed. “It’s a real nice party, Kid.”

Kid put his hand on the back of Dollar’s pitted neck and squeezed. “You have a good time. Don’t let anything get you, you know? You got a whole lot of space to walk around in. Something gets you here, you walk on over there. Something gets you there, you go on someplace else. If it happens a third time, come tell me about it. Understand? There’s no strange sun in the sky tonight.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Kid. Everything’s okay.” The distressful smile went; Dollar just looked sad. “Really.”

“Good.” Kid let go Dollar’s neck and looked at De

“I guess so.” De

A group came through the ivied gate, scorpions and others, following Ernestine Throckmorton.

Dollar said, “Oh, hey!” and jogged, jangling, after them, around the pool and out another entrance.

“I’m going to take this off.” De

Kid sat down and put his hand on De

Kid rubbed his back.

De

“Because you like it.” Kid moved his hand up the sharp shoulder blade and down, pressing. De

“Sometimes,” Lanya said and Kid turned, “I envy you two.”

Kid did not stop rubbing and De

“Why?” De

“I don’t know. I supposed it’s because you can let people—let Kid know you want things I’d be afraid to ask for.”

“You want your back rubbed?” Kid asked.

“Yes.” She gri

“I watch the two of you,” Kid said, “when you’re playing. When you’re throwing things at one another; tugging one another around all the time. I envy you.”

“You…?” Lanya reached for De

But De

Kid wondered if he’d seen her reaching, watched her face pass through hurt and her hand withdraw.

De

From neck to hem she glittered black; black granulated silver; scarlet poured about her. “Hey, see, I got it good!”

“You sure do,” Lanya said.

Kid stood and took her arm. “Come on.”

“Where are we…?”

Kid gri

She raised a brow and came, intently curious.

De

On the other side of the ivied stone, Ernestine apostrophized: “…chunk crab meat, not the stringy kind! Then eggs. Then a few bread crumbs. And bay seasoning. When I lived in Trenton, I’d have to have it sent up from Maryland. But Mrs. Alt—nobody could have been more surprised than I was—found an entire shelf full in a store down on Temple…”

At the silent edge, Dollar muttered reverently: “…God damn…”

“Bay seasoning,” Ernestine reiterated as Kid and Lanya and De

On the path to the next garden, De

“Through here,” Kid said. “The lights are out in here…”

“August,” Lanya said.

They stepped into flaky darkness. Grass slid cool between Kid’s toes. He clutched; it slipped away with the next step; tickling again.

The next step was surprising stone.

He rocked his naked foot: Wet, cold…rough. His shod one stayed steady.

“I think there’s a—” Lanya’s voice echoed. She paused to listen to the reverberations—“some sort of underpass.”

They came from under it four steps later.

“I didn’t even see us go in.” De

Kid curled his free toes again, lifted his foot; grass tore.

“Hey, you can see the city, almost,” De

Beyond a ruffed, stone beast, blurs of light were snipped off across the bottom by buildings. Implied hills, slopes, or depressions patterned the darkness around.