Love Song, Part II

    We used to fly together on speed, up on the roof. He had big wings
like a bat. We’d run and fly. We’d walk through the village where the
people live in tents and lean-tos and things, down passed the tracks up on the
hill. We’d walk through and talk with some of ‘em. I was the Queen. They
all looked to Bobby with respect. They’d ask questions and share
information. Some people made stuff and we’d trade soap for oil and
things—wood. Bobby’d trade stuff he’d found in old houses for other stuff
to add onto our house. One guy made shoes. Sometimes we got our pills
there but other times we’d go to the Aces for ‘em. When I were at the Aces
with Bobby—that was when I was so grand cuz sometimes he’d hold my hand
and pull me to somewhere else across the room or down the stairs and talk
with some folks we knew. I saw some folks I used to work with on 5th
street and some we knew from around. When Bobby’d grab my hand and pull
me through the crowd I felt tall and strong. I knew nobody could do
nothing to me and nobody had nothing I wanted when we was together.

Everbody looked on him with fear and respect. One time all these
queens were leerin’ at him and finally after I stared back at ‘em mean, he
pulled me to him and kissed me right there in front of all those faggots and I
knew we were the King and Queen. We’d go to places in the woods. We
stayed in an ol’ wooden house that was part burned out but mostly was all
there. There was a creek and lots of trees. Bobby didn’t even like to take
stuff from there cuz he said it’d be takin away from something pure. But
then he took some brass doorknobs and stuff cuz we went there and could
tell some folks had been takin stuff so we might as well. He’d point out all
this stuff in houses and buildings called details. Sometimes we’d lie in the
grass or pine needles by a creek or just in the lot behind the house. He had
these poles in the ground behind the house he would do pull-ups on. We’d
lay in the grass and look up and watch the sky change. In the grass he was a
snake with stripes. A strong and bright colored snake. He’d curl around me.
Sometimes we’d take pills and fly up on the roof. He’d wrap around me
after we flew back down to the ground. We’d shake together sometimes all
night on the floor and wet each other cuz we couldn’t get up.

I licked the box clean where we kept the pills and powder. Now they all
gone. I need to go out to get some. I don’t go outside much now.

Bobby came to visit last night. I felt his body come across the floor and lay
down on top of my body. I smelled his breath and felt his weight so I know
it was him. I felt his stubble on my neck and his breath. The way our bodies
fit together. It was so dark cuz the moon was new. I think he loves me
again. That’s what he meant.

I had to go out to find pills on the other side of the tracks through the scrap
metal yard. I went down the way to the Aces Club. I saw Roy. He pulled
his cop car into the lot where I was walking through. He told me to get in
the car and I tried to run but I fell. He told me to get in or he’d take me into
the station. I wouldn’t sit in that seat next to him again. I got in the back.
He said ok. He took me to The Pancake House. One way down the
highway. I ate a pancake with syrup. Bobby liked chocolate chip pancakes
but they made me sick. But I ordered ‘em this time anyway. Roy said
Bobby’d been cremated and he had the remains. If I wanted, he’d bring ‘em
to the house cuz nobody else cared about ‘em—no family. I told him I
wouldn’t give him any pleasure, but I could tell he didn’t want it anyway.
He said he’d drop me home and to eat more. I told him to drop me at the
Aces and he wanted to know why. He said he knew why. I said it’s none of
your foul business. But he dropped me at home and said he’d be back
sometime with the ashes. I guess he’s scared I might tell about how he
killed a man. I told him I might tell. He said no one would believe a
drugged out faggot. I decided to shut up at least till I get the ashes.

I went back to the Aces, gettin’ some pills, and went down in the caves, and
I thought I saw Bobby walk by. It’s dark down there and I smelt this cigar
and it smelt like home, like Daddy in the hammock, and I went to it. I
followed the cigar smoke into the cave and he were standing there real still
like George used to do with the cigar burnin’ and smoke running off the end.
And he said what you want? And I said the cigar smell and speed. And he
said get down. Get down on yer knees and I’ll give you what you want. And I
said are you George—cuz he seemed to look like George and almost sound
like George and I wanted to find out what had happened to George and tell
him all about how I met Bobby, how he’d saved me on the sidewalk and how I’d
quit with the men except for Roy cuz he’d reminded me of George sometimes—
the smell o’ the car—and how I’d pretend I were with him and how he made
me keep on with him after we’d quit. And about everything that happened
about Bobby. “Boy get down.” And I thought of Daddy. “Boy, give Daddy
his medicine. Don’t tremble like a girl.” And I knew in my heart that it
warn’t George, but I’d hoped he were. And I went down with his hand on
the back o’ my head. And I took him in my mouth but I didn’t even feel
nothin’ anywhere. And it didn’t taste right. It were all just meat. And he
shoved it so I gagged and he said, “You want that big dick, don’t you, boy?”
And I said, “Yes.” And he said, “Yes what?” And I said “Yes sir.” Cuz I
knew that’s what he wanted me to say, but I didn’t feel like he was my
Daddy or my Sir or nothing. And he kept on with it. And he was shoving
fingers in my hole sayin that I wanted his load inside of me but that I’d have
to work for it. And I started getting his perfume smell real strong up my
nose and felt sick. And I said no. And he was shoving it inside me sayin
how much I wanted it, but I didn’t want it at all. And I tried to make him
stop. I yelled for him to stop, but he yelled and said I was a pussy girl cunt
faggot cock sucker and I’d beg for it or die. But I begged for him to stop
and smelled his perfume. And I got sick but nothing came out. A little
liquid. I was gaggin and he was spillin his business inside of me and I
thought of Bobby cuz I never felt so hollow on the inside and his perfume
smell was all over the outside of me. I fell on the floor. I couldn’t move. I
hurt. He peed on me. I didn’t want to move. I said why’d you done it to
me? He said, “I was just trying to play your game.” And now I can’t get
clean. I can’t get the smell off. I can’t get him out of me. I still smell him
on me. That cigar mixed with some kind of sweet smell-perfume. Bobby
never did wear that stuff. I warshed and warshed, but I can still smell him
ever once in a while. I took more pills, but they made the smell e’en
stronger and stronger and I can see Bobby’s mad face again. I can’t get
clean again for Bobby or George or Daddy or Mamma. I’ll never
get clean….Bobby’s soap is all used up. I can’t walk right or speak right or
think clear. I need to go to where BOBBY IS I NEED TO GET OUT OF

Bobby loved the Christ. He always said he wished I loved the Christ. He
has this old Bible with a black leather cover and gold letters. And it scares
me. I never seen the sense in it before. But now maybe. Now I feel it—I
feel the Christ in the room at times and I’m afraid it’s too late. I put my
hand on the book sometimes but I don’t know if I should. I don’t want to go
to hell unless Bobby’s there. I want to run, but my legs won’t work right.
I’ve forgotten how to walk. I sit leaned against the wall in my own puddle.
My feet are like plastic, rubber, like I’m an amputee, but I still got ‘em. The
joints bend strange. My body feels hot, then cold. It’s time. And I figured a
way that I think I won’t burn in hell for. If I fall into sleep by the tracks, I
may get hit by a train and I may not. It may slice me or I may wake up and
pull away. But it won’t be my fault that the train comes, so I won’t have to
go to hell I don’t think. I’m going to go down tomorrow. I’m going
tomorrow at dusk and then I’ll fall into sleep as the sun sinks so the driver
won’t see me. The suns comin’ up soon cuz the sky has that certain strange
color of warning.

The birds say it’s mornin’; it’s time. I fade in and out for hours. I see
Bobby’s face, angry.

The sun moves and burns across the room. The floorboards heat up. And
cool a bit. Saved just enough speed to get me there—just some pieces. I’ve
got to crawl down the stairs. I can do it. I can stand. I can walk some. I
feel a little rested. Hold on the banister. Legs like jelly. One last bit. Pull
out the wood door. I cross through to the outside from our world. The sun
hits the back of my head like damnation knocking me to the ground. I’ve
got to crawl past that parking lot on the other side of the street; past a place
that’s now all cinder block rubble on our side after Bobby knocked it down
after that man came into our house. He’d knocked a row of blocks out all
the way around until it fell. It was just empty anyway and that man had
gotten in our winder from that roof. Now it’s just a pile. Crawlin over to
the scrap metal yard as a cop car goes by but don’t stop--that’s good.
Bobby’s ashes. I never got Bobby’s ashes. Was it Roy? Can’t stop now.
Crawlin on and on till I get to the fence, crawl through a place in the fence
where the metal’s bent back. Lucky to be small and I’m crawlin’. This
place is wild, hills of scrap, big machines, crawl through the dirt yard in
between. I feel like a broken machine. Piles of metal snakes, tires, old cars,
scrap like me. That old brown dog with the broke tail sees me. What’s her
name? Crawl on through the dirt yard. That ol’ dog is following behind. I
can’t remember. She comes up shakin’ like me. Her nose has got some
pieces of pink gum stuck on it. She shakes and licks my cheek. I’m covered
in dirt and I know I’m sick and smell and... I crawl on and she follows.
Teets hangin down. Through the grass where the ground comes up by the
tracks. We get up there by the tracks. We lie down. She’s tired too. I think
she’s only half alive too. We lie there breathin’. I can hear her beathin. I
can hear the sound of the earth taste the metal track smell the wood ties.

When I wake up we’re on this train. Me and the dog. Or not the dog. And
it’s not a train. We’re movin’. But I can’t move. Voices. Then this man,
these folks, are pushing pulling this cart on wheels and we’re on it and it
bumps. And they look down at us and talk among themselves. And they’re
pushing us through the streets to somewhere. And it’s real bright, the light
is blinding now, but in’t it night? And we’re on a train movin’ with the
rhythm and sound that reminds me of Bobby. Is Bobby here? I think I smell
that dog. There were people there are people here but it’s grey now like
twilight and the folks are grey figures movin around talking something…

Now it’s still. I feel I’m awake for the first time in a while. Calm like when
Mama was alive and I was in the grass in the backyard and I’d hear Daddy’s
mower. Caterpillars. There’s a tube stickin’ in my arm and a window with
buildings outside. Big square buildings. And people stand around in a
circle sometimes and they focus on me I think and sometimes I can
understand what they say and sometimes I can’t but I feel calm--it’s ok and
they tell me I am holy. They say I am a holy one. And they bow together
before me. And I’m not sure yet, but I think Bobby’s here somewhere.

I got it wrong because Roy came here and said he brought me the ashes but
they’re keepin’ ‘em for me in a safe place until I’m well enough. He said I
should be grateful I’m not dead. He said I got a screw loose and that’s the
least of it. I can’t understand it all. He talks stuff.

George said I could come home with him. George said he’s got the ashes in
a porcelain urn. He’s got this house on a hill with grass and a creek and
trees. He said he’s sorry for being gone. We’re livin’ in a castle on a grassy
hill and you can look out and see the creek and hear it and look out on a sea
of treetops. And the sky pink. The sun sinkin’ down. And now it’s dark
and I’m alone. Big house on a hill. Castle. All these birds—bats swarming
around the house and I’m alone in this big castle and it’s dark and them bats
swarm and I don’t know which room I’m in—it’s dark. And George. And
Bobby. Daddy. George.

Troy Hill is a writer living in New York City, originally from Atlanta,
Georgia. He directed a full production of his play, "Home Again" at the
Abingdon Theater in New York in 2004. This play was published in Lodestar
Quarterly in the Summer 2003 issue and was also part of the Genesius Guild's
Raw Reading Series that same summer. His play, "The World Was All Before
Them" was given a reading by the Nomad Theatrical Group in December 2004,
and his short play "Como Te Atreves" was part of the Untitled Theater
Company's 24/7 festival in March 2005. He recently directed a reading of
his new play, "Unlovable" in the Ensemble Studio Theater's Octoberfest. He
studies playwriting with Keith Bunin.

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