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THIS NOVEL WAS WRITTEN AND SET IN FORTHXE H ILL AUSTRALIA

DERISION A SOCIAL JUSTICE NIGHTMARE

GENE HEAD

COPYRIGHT

Derision is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, businesses, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental .

Copyright © 2021 by Gene Head

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information and retrieval systems, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law .

PRINT B UTTON PRESS ® Mooloolaba QLD 4557 , Australia

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-6452504- 0-4 Paperback - Special Edition ISBN: 978-0-6452504- 5-9 Kindle ISBN: 978-0-6452504- 1-1 ePub ISBN: 978-0-6452504- 2-8 iBook ISBN: 978-0-6452504- 3-5 pdf. ISBN: 978-0-6452504- 4-2

info@ printbuttonpress.com www. Read- Free- Books.com First edition July 2021 published by Print Button Press® Australia CONTENTS

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1. Fireball 15 2. Awaken 17 3. Pollen 19 4. Training 22 5. 1030 Hours 27 6. 1130 Hours 30 7. 1215 Hours 32 8. 1450 Hours 34 9. 1655 Hours 38 10. Stalking 41 11. Pillory 43 12. Olde Worlde 45 13. Peanut 49 14. Scrutiny 53 15. The Smartest Men In The Bar 58 16. Mandate 67 17. Confounded 74 18. Big Boobs 85 19. Notorious 87 20. Ain't nothin' but mammals 89 21. Eye Spy 93 22. Japan Man 96 23. Borax 100 24. Forum 107 25. Absolution 120 26. Order 122 27. Essential Cloth Cap 123 28. Pitchfork 128 29. Monkey Wagon 134 30. Winner Winner Chicken Dinner 141 31. Goofballs 151 32. Wrecking Ball 154 33. Doctors 156 34. Nurses 157 35. Dejection 158 36. Boot 159 37. Superannuated-Man 166 38. If it’s to be, it’s up to me 170 39. Pound • Kilo • Stone 174 40. Big Manboobs 177 41. Balloon 180 42. Mob 182 43. Brief • Fake • Temporary 191 44. Kamahl’s Return 193

Acknowledgments 195 About the Writer 197 Also by Gene Head 199 For Leonie

If it’s not a stingray, it’s some other damned thing, and you still play in the water braver than me

You are free, and that is why you are lost . —F RANZ KAFKA

1 FIREBALL

itrus tang moves off pines east of our cricket C pitch and a windbreak caused by the forest, strong and tall, warms us on the grass. A slow tide of townies walks on taupe stones that dot the grass, and the field is trodden and brownish and bankrupt. Forthxe Hill’s officials have whipped my friend Kamahl and set him on fire, blazing orange on the horizon and he’s slapping his flames. He runs toward the mouth of a spinning abyss fifty yards away in a pink, purple sunset. Kamahl’s writhing doesn’t awaken pity in the crowd who record his death on palm-sized screens. I wonder if he’ll collapse before he gets to the whirlpool in the 16 | GENE HEAD sky. We’ll need to spade up his flesh and wash the grass so kids can play without coming up grubby in blood stained shirts. Sunlight dims and we are red in Kamahl’s fireball flicker. Faces are blue behind phones . He enters the vortex and I consider leaving with him. The mouth closes and steals my buddy from his kingdom. People upload to their cursed broadcast channels and don’t talk as they leave . I am afraid . 2 A W A K E N

barely recall Kamahl now. It’s been a year, and I I muse on a fuzzy echo and scratch my head over it. Twelve months without him. My claw marks down their sides. I wind the crown of my watch in reverse, wishing for his return. Searching for cassette tapes and pocket organizers. Tech before it was terror. Before it listened to our secrets and sex—and sold them back to us . There’s pain under a left rib. I drink too much .

Waves pound sand and beach a liver by jellyfish — 18 | GENE HEAD fat and sad and sun-beaten and stranded there in the sun . It’s mine , it’s turned black .

A D ANVERS C ARROT , tall as a broom stick, is in the room. He says livers grow on the right hand side and that I have fish lips and calls me a boring prat. Mr. Carrot is commonplace and unremarkable with plain-Jane orange skin flicking back the usual green hair. He doesn’t have ears . The carrot is soaked in convention and strides with an undeserved self worth. He says I’m inflaming a ruptured spleen rubbing here . He spins on my desk chair and it’s annoying . Death creeps nearby, but he’s noiseless and easier to suffer. He’s lollygagging in a corner of the room and I don’t watch . Rose turns next to me under sheets. She has a clubfoot and is skinny and ugly, and I am ugly too. I’m midlife, and that’s old, and a beer belly grew on me this year. I need to sleep with landmines like Rose now . She’s a gimp, but she’s spry. Inside of her eyes are velvet curtains blazing in a house falling to stumps and ash . I don’t love Rose . Dead petals of clothing strew the carpet. She needs help to pay her rent. A third of my nest egg blooms from her handbag like a gerbera daisy . 3 P O L L E N

walk on Valerian Avenue which will take me to I Forthxe Hill’s business district. The air is soupy with yellow pollen, and I cannot see far through it. The pollen is going in my mouth. I’m walking to a college, breathing the clag, covered and crusty like a dry lemon. Forthxe Hill swarms with bees and is exquisite. A four-wheel drive is passing me, and the passenger hangs from his window and pollen cakes on his face . “Gay shoes,” he says . I’m examining my shoes that are red and wondering if it was a mistake to use fashion to fit in. They drive further and their laughter fades. I 20 | GENE HEAD see the college and it’s an orange building shaped like a sphere, just as Miss Peanut had described. Peanut works Saturdays as the college receptionist. I’d flirted with her on my enrolment phone call . “It’s round and orange .” “What is, darling ?” “The building. Like a piece of fruit !” “Is that so?” I’d asked. “You mean like the ones I eat for lunch, only really big ?” “Right— exactly !” She was an excitable teenager. The hallmark was the way she’d leap in her seat when I bounced conversation. Enjoying her Minnie Mouse voice, I’d imagined her puffy face pushed like dough from a cookie cutter . “There’s a dress code, Mr. Brenner,” she’d told me. “No shirts with mary-ja-wanna leaves on them. Covered shoes, and no football shorts. Guys’ balls fall out of those when they sit .” “That’s a terrible thing to witness,” I’d said . “Okie-dokie, you’re registered. The class is on Monday .” “Thanks, sweetie—Miss or Missus ?” “Miss . I’m not married. I’m Porsha .” “That’s a pretty name .” “Gee, thanks, but call me Peanut. Everyone does .” “You haven’t got peanuts in your head, have you, Porsha ?” She was laughing like I was a first-class stud . DERISION | 21 “No, silly. I guess I just make people think of a peanut sometimes .” “Are you sure, Porsha? I can look in your ears for peanuts .” She was in a giggle fit when our chat finished . “I have to go. My mum’s calling .” She ended the scandal with a click. I felt blue after that. I wished her cheer would tow along with me any place I went . The college is on the opposite side of the road. Cars drive dangerously because they cannot see in the pollen. I’ve got a green light, but no one notices. I dodge traffic and hop-skip. The street sign says Rubicon Lane and I laugh as I cross it . 4 TRAINING

nside the orange at the door to classroom B-12, a I janitor drags a dust buster across me, hoovering pollen from my shirt. He tells me to enter. Pollen- covered homo sapiens wait in a pen near me, resembling cinnamon doughnuts in a gift parcel . When B-12 fills, security ops training begins. We’re told guards speak in military time. It’s 0830 hours now, and lunch will be at 1300. Men have questions . “It’s not rocket science, boys,” says the instructor, whose name is Ms. Gronald. “Thirteen hundred is one o’clock,” she says . I like her big tits. She’s fat but firm. Gronald DERISION | 23 wears a corporate outfit that’s too small, and the tits want to split the blouse and fly apart like a blown gasket . She’s older than me . “So, if it’s got a one at the front, it means one o’clock, Ms.?” asks Adam . “Twelve hundred has a one at the front,” she says. “Is twelve the same as one, Adam ?” She has the men in knots reading time, and we’ve only just started . A man-sized turnip has walked in late. Gronald doesn’t like him, and it’s on her face. He’s a skinny turnip with a violet head that blurs into the white body, which is all taproot from chest to ground. He has no ears. I think the turnip may once have weighed three hundred pounds and a medical procedure sucked it from his sides. Superfluous rolls of turnip skin droop, and he’s swelled in wrong places and awful to see . “You’re late. What’s your name ?” “Pardon?” “You’re late !” The turnip’s pointing to his purple bulb . “I can’t hear; no ears,” he says . “God help me,” says Gronald. “There’s always one.” She’s striding across the room, pulling a box cutter from a skirt pocket. It amazes my school chums to see her jump and hug his cranium, pulling him downward like shattering a glass backboard on a slam dunk. The large vegetable is headlocked, and Gronald stabs chunks from his 24 | GENE HEAD temples while he screams. The man by me leans to whisper . “Jesus, wouldn’t forget the flowers on a date with her .” Gronald has not murdered the turnip. She allows him to stand now, and he fingers two ear holes she’s carved from both sides of his brain, the size of espresso cups . “There,” she says. “You hear me now ?” With his new ears, Turnip can understand . “Yes, Ms., I hear you now .” Gronald tells him again that he’s late to class . “It wasn’t my fault,” he says. “I forgot my medication. The bus was late .” Gronald’s asking again for a name . “I’m Mr. Turnip. It’s difficult for me to make the bus. I’m top-heavy. I can’t move quick enough .” “Mr. Turnip, you’ve confused me with someone,” says Gronald . Turnip is an idiot and seems oblivious to the fact and annoys me . “Pardon, Ms .?” “You are confused, Turnip. I’m teacher —I’m not friend . I give zero fucks about your traffic jam story .” This woman is a country town on carnival day . This woman is the rodeo queen . “But I forgot my medication, Ms .” “I’m going to stop you there, Turnip. Take this marker, write on the board: Attention: Never complain, never explain .” DERISION | 25 I ride Gronald like a bronco over dairy farm hills, green as Ireland . I slurp from her milk udders . We want to do the training, but Turnip’s a pest and wastes our time . “I can’t write on whiteboards, Ms.,” he says. “I have a shoulder injury .” Turnip has a note from his doctor. Gronald examines it, swinging plated hair as Rapunzel does from prison . It’s a losing battle with Turnip, and she points at Chad— front row . “You—write it for him .” “Me?” “I’m pointing at you, aren’t I?” Chad’s on the other side of the room, looking for help from anyone. We shrug, and he turns back to her, just repeating himself . “Me, Ms. Gronald ?” “Yes! I’m fucking pointing at you . Is there an echo ?” Chad’s got the marker, and Gronald wants his name now . “Chad,” he says . “Okay, Chad, write my note for Turnip .” “What was the thing you said, Ms .?” She’s sighing and repeating herself, too. She has eyes that are cried out and scooped out, all but checked out . “Attention: Never complain, never explain,” she says . Chad’s penmanship is that of a kindergartener . 26 | GENE HEAD He writes attention with letters: ATENSHUN . He writes never with letters: NEVA . She tells him to sit . Classroom B-12 is on level three. A yellow flake smog floats outside and collects on trees and builds upon car hoods. American children left crayons on their windowsills last night praying for a snow day sleep-in. The crayon was not white but yellow, and no one canceled class . I will be a qualified security guard by the end of the day . 5 1030 HOURS

ronald is sharing two decades of crowd G control tales. She’s worked every bar in Forthxe Hill . “Drunks have their own logic,” she says. “Sound familiar?” We laugh with her. “Who’s had a drink at The Green Deer ?” Eighteen raised hands say, The Deer is a popular watering hole . I want beer . And a German-sized glass . “You’re on security at The Green Deer,” says Gronald. “You see Mr. Shitfaced over here. Mr. Shitfaced is bothering a woman, spills his whisky on her. What do we do ?” “Drag him out,” we say . I feel the hard pavement on every bar doorstep in the world . “Do we open with that?” she asks. “Do we put up our boxing gloves and invite him to leave ?” It hurts to think. We’re all hungover . 28 | GENE HEAD “Of course we don’t,” she says. “What’s that lead to ?” “Punch up, Ms .?” “Yes, and we don’t want that. We just want this dickhead to stroll out the door into a taxicab .” We’re playing cool and nodding . Elvis dolls on hot car dashboards . Cat smugglers in Hawaii lugging meowing suitcases like it’s nothing . “I once asked an intoxicated female to leave a venue,” says Gronald. “The girl insisted it’s against the law to be kicked out on your birthday. Who thinks she was joking ?” Our wheels turn slowly . “Not a joke, guys. Remember, she’s half bombed. She genuinely believes that’s a law, keeps claiming her rights. How do you think I handled her ?” “Headlock?” “Call for backup ?” “I showed her it was past midnight on my watch. Explained, her birthday ended fifteen minutes ago. The logic made sense to her, and she let herself out .” “Does that always work?” asks Liam . “Your mileage may vary, but if you use firm, friendly language, they’ll almost always leave without the bullshit .” Gronald is a kitten. Gronald is a tiger. A hedge brown butterfly, all lipstick under the dog fight. The baddest bitch in the classroom until you treat DERISION | 29 her to earrings and flowers and red pasta. The type to be folding your shirts early as day two . It’s too easy with the cougars . I wonder if she’s ever dragged me out of a pub over the years . 6 1130 HOURS

ronald has asked us if regular people steal . G “Yes, Ms.,” we say . “My oath, they do, men. If it ain’t nailed down, they’ll lift it .” “How about old ladies, Ms .?” “Especially old ladies .” I think of, Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot . Stallone on VHS . I’m stoned in Tijuana, bolting across the border for ’90s America. I’m using a phone booth to ask Kamahl if I can borrow his plaid shirt for the weekend . “In loss prevention , everyone’s a suspect,” says DERISION | 31 Gronald. “You’ll spot methamphetamine addicts stealing cologne. They carry ten bottles in an overcoat; sell them to buy drugs. Young corporate girls steal orange juice and packets of crisps on lunch break .” I want to tackle a young corporate girl. A great how-I-met-your-mother story for the kids . “When you’re stationed at supermarkets, remember,” she says, “white females in blazers and Hush Puppies are thieves. And if you’re protecting high-end cosmetics, watch the Asians. It’s a big brand culture, and some can’t afford it. Don’t repeat that, and you didn’t hear it from me .” There are secrets inside B-12 and a blizzard out there that won’t quit . Gronald’s painted eyebrows raise to winks from the room . 7 1215 HOURS

ronald clicks a stopwatch and times us G changing radio batteries . I hope the prize for fastest is a ride on teacher’s lap . She stands at my desk, and I bend my neck . I see Christy Hartburg on a Supervixens poster . I want Christy to cradle me and say it’ll all be fine . “Getting the hang of it, Elmo ?” My battery clicks in while our eyes make a connection. The other students are slow. They’re— terrible. I’m showing off and embarrassed for them . “Couldn’t be simpler, Gronald. These radios are idiot proof .” She’s laughing . “Do my job for a month. Idiot proof just hasn’t met the right idiot .” I stall on the bumps of a brassiere under her discount-bin blouse. She’s an old fox, and no one DERISION | 33 sees but me. Too often, men loiter by high schools, spying tarts frozen in time. The years roll away, and the girls never age. A woman like Gronald appreciates the attention. She tells me to call her Mercedes as the others fumble with their gadgets . “I didn’t pay you for a lap dance ten years back, did I, sugar ?” “I’ve heard every stripper joke in the book, Elmo. I’m no tagline, I’m the real thing.” She’s squinting now. “Don’t call me sugar .” I throw her a squint of my own . “Keep your skirt on , HT .” “What’s HT?” she asks . “Honey Tits . It suits you better .” She’s unhappy with the comment and burns her irk reorganizing a perfect desk. Gronald is slapping staplers and shoving binders. I’m working out if she’s attracted to sultanas or brass balls. A reluctant twinkle wanders to her lips, and crow’s feet pinch her Picasso profile with face lines only old women can show pleasure with. Her lonely blue zeros hesitate on me. It’s a surrender . We’ve just fallen for each other . 8 1450 HOURS

he tedium of security training makes me feel T I’ve grown dumber for attending. I persist for the certification and successive low-wage job where criminals will punch my face on shift . We’re learning about duty of care, and Gronald’s warning of lawsuits. None of us want to know. Nobody here wants trouble out of this thing, just a job to fund our bad habits and buy a meal for a lady here and there. I think it’s not good, this thing she mentions about being sued, but I’m more upset Turnip has left the door open after one of several bathroom breaks, and now Death has wandered in. He’s traipsing around the back of the room tapping the dial of his DERISION | 35 wristwatch, and the noise irritates all of us, and we stare at him . “Eyes to the front, men,” says Gronald. “Okay, you’re stationed at a mall, and you walk past a box that smells like chemicals, has wires sticking out, and it’s ticking. What is it ?” “A bomb, Ms.?” asks Taylor . “That’d be likely, Taylor, yes .” “Why’s it ticking, Ms .?” “It’s a Get Smart one from the sixties, Taylor .” “They don’t use clocks now, Ms. They use cell phones .” “Taylor, do me a favor .” “What, Ms .?” “Shut up. All right, men, whose problem is this bomb ?” “The cops’,” says Jamie . Gronald is center aisle in five rows of desks, hands on hips, chin to the wind . “Jamie thinks cops. Is he right ?” No one’s answering. We’re silent wise men, not loud fools . “He’s right,” she says. “You call the cops .” We’re relieved to hear this, and she continues . “What if you get a phone call? The caller says there’s a bomb in a briefcase in the men’s room. Do you look for it ?” “No way,” we say . “Yes, way,” says Gronald. “Who here’s seen Die Hard ?” Every hand is up . Every video store is closed . 36 | GENE HEAD A disbanded bubble-gum childhood drifting to bare meadows of oblivion . I don’t know what’s outside anymore, beyond the pollen frosted windows of B-12 . “Who dies first in Die Hard , guys?” she asks . No one remembers, and Gronald scrabbles in a draw to click a remote. Die Hard projects on the wall. Karl Vreski strolls into Nakatomi Plaza, pulls a Walther PPK pistol, and blows a hole through a dopey security guard behind the desk . “Security guard!” says Gronald, and she’s smiling. “First to die in every action film. You know bad shit’s about to go down when a security guard hits the floor.” We’re laughing about it. “There are no tear stains on any cinema floors over dead security guards,” she says. “We’re faceless, unarmed, and expendable .” We’re laughing, and we don’t even know why anymore . “We’re also underpaid,” says Jacob . “I’d argue if I could,” says Gronald. “But cleaning staff aren’t checking that toilet for bombs, and building management are far too important for that honor. You’re the first responder. Cops get the credit, but you’re the chumps that locate and report, and a starched white uniform won’t protect you if it goes bang .” The bang rings in my ears . I wonder where to buy starch . “Your duty of care is customer safety. Identify the risk—alert authorities—direct patrons to exits, then get the hell out of there. If there’s an injury DERISION | 37 and you didn’t do your job, you’ll need a surgeon to remove the subpoena shoved up your arse .” Cracking noises inside my lunchbox raise alarm. I lift the lid and find a bird fetus kicking through my solid, hard-boiled egg. The class watches as it struggles around my desktop on malformed talons with a strange chirp. I tweeze the fledgling’s tail and Frisbee it to the back of the room where Death snatches it from the air. We watch him eat the chirping palmful of ribs and wet feathers . “Be cautious of what you throw to him, Elmo,” says Gronald . “Just an oddity,” I say. “One that shouldn’t have been here with us .” The class is murmuring, and Gronald snaps her fingers . “Eyes to the front,” she says. We give her our attention. “Now, are there questions about duty of care ?” “What if the cops don’t know what to do?” Terrance asks . “Not my circus, not my monkeys,” says Gronald. “Don’t overthink it, gents. You’re not employed for your smarts. Report the risk. Log the incident. Have a strawberry milk and a cigarette. Job done .” 9 1655 HOURS

t’s right on finish time, and Gronald shares one I more anecdote . “On my night patrols, I dealt with Reckless Ricky. Ricky was homeless. How did I know when Ricky was around a corner ?” “Heard him jacking off, Ms .?” We’re laughing like chimps . I’m a chimp, burning in chimp hell for sins I don’t understand . “I could smell him,” she says. “Ricky reeked of fumes from drinking denatured ethanol and OJ. Never smoke near the homeless. They’ll explode like Roman candles .” “Do we arrest homeless, Ms .?” “Reasonable force, reasonable grounds,” she says. “Ricky was a nuisance, but he rarely broke laws. Still, could Ricky be dangerous, guys ?” “Depends if he’s armed,” says Matthew . “If you slept under a bridge, Matthew, would you carry a knife ?” DERISION | 39 “Probably, Ms .” “Okay, we can smell Ricky. We know he has a weapon. What next ?” “Hit him with nightsticks, Ms .?” “You don’t have a stick. The company you work for doesn’t like lawsuits. They’ve banned all weapons. Now Ricky’s saying he’s got HIV, he’ll bite you, blah, blah, blah. What then ?” “Open hand techniques, Ms .?” “Nope.” “Closed hand tech —” “Nope.” We’re stumped. She twirls a 180 and walks . “You turn and run the other way, guys. Jacob said it best a moment ago .” “What?” “You said, ‘We don’t get paid enough.’ The brightest thing a student’s uttered in B- twelve .” Our troop laughs again. We must or we’ll scream . “If you’re in danger, you screw. What’s your only job ?” “Identify risk and report, Ms .?” “Perfect answer. Radio base, report Ricky, do paperwork, go home to your beautiful wives .” It’s a raucous in here. Gronald laughs, too . “You bunch couldn’t get dates with blind women,” she says . We sweep stationary into pencil cases. Gronald dismisses us . “Certificates come in the mail, gentlemen. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here .” 40 | GENE HEAD The chain gang is being held up as we exit. Mr. Turnip is taller than a standard doorway, and despite many successful bathroom visits, he cannot bend this time to get under. He complains of arthritis. Men lace arms behind him, and Turnip deliberately falls backward into a trust hammock. They help him limbo under the head jamb . I’m prejudiced now and believe turnips make terrible security guards . 1 0 STALKING

obacco smoke snakes from my nose, and I T puff slowly and on purpose. I linger by the door to the big orange. The pollen cloud delights the bees, and they are the only creatures who are happy about it. A yellow speck dust devil spins a path through burger wrappers and milkshake cups, and my eyes strain through the murk where the twister causes a bus service to stop inside an intersection. When Mercedes leaves the building, her skin is olive toned in the tungsten glow of the fog. Stumpy armfuls of paperwork hide her melon tits in a chest-high hug. Her stilettos tap the bricks, and a clumsy handbag bounces on her waist and 42 | GENE HEAD overwhelms me. Mercedes walks just like women walk . She’s seen me . “Elmo? Do you need a lift ?” “Only because I don’t know where the hell I’m going .” “What do you mean ?” “I’ve got no idea where you live .” 1 1 PILLORY

carry the folders and paperwork. Her feet I pitter-patter in nylon stockings and her high heels dangle from a single finger in each hand. We walk up concrete ramps inside a car park. She says her car is on level three . “What are we looking for ?” “Eighty-eight Monte Carlo .” “I didn’t pick you for a Chevrolet girl , HT .” “About the only thing of value I got in the divorce .” 44 | GENE HEAD “Bloke had good taste in cars and women. Why’d you leave him ?” “Dunno, got bored. Doesn’t matter .” When I slow down, I am behind her. I can see her calf muscles oscillate a large arse in her too- tight beige skirt, pulled both ways to its stretchiest. I’m praying for a break at the seam. Her waist doesn’t corset, and she is not an hourglass girl. Mercedes’s hips join to her torso solidly . I want to throw her down like a football team tackle bag . We’re packing the trunk of a black ’88 Monte Carlo. Tires screech as a truck roars closer and bikini models call out their windows . “Nice face, dickhead !” I check for face crumbs in Mercedes’s rearview mirror. Their V8 engine thunders down a ramp . “What was that about?” asks Mercedes . “You took the words out of my mouth , HT .” 1 2 OLDE WORLDE

nside a two-bedder in a treacherous suburb, I I bench her folders and savor the atmosphere. The unit is a bygone of a once great and colorful era and has fittings and drugget of orange and brown and yellow, hedged by open bricks that are also brown. The kitchen’s glazed tiles are green lava that moves, and her curtains have a corncob pattern. I handle one of four porcelain busts, each shaped in living memory of a retired Australian prime minister. A poorly skilled artist has hand painted each head, but there’s a dopey sincerity to them that works . 46 | GENE HEAD “You’re missing Bob Hawk,” I say . “He broke. Darn cat knocked him from his settle .” “That’s a shame. At least you’ve still got Whitlam .” “They’re all biscuit containers. You just pull off their scalps .” My hand dips into the head of John Curtin, which is filled with Arnott’s Ginger Nuts. A cockroach scurries over my boot and is now by the far wall with his wife and beetle kids, discussing supper . “Excuse the mess, Elmo. I’m so busy I’ve barely run a duster .” “I’m a man, I can’t see dust .” “Make yourself comfy. My daughter is at her father’s house .” “This unit has charm , HT .” “Don’t be insincere, Elmo .” “I didn’t say it was a palace. But hovels have their charm .” She’s dropped the bad-girl attitude. I wonder if I’ve ever met a woman who wasn’t softhearted behind closed doors. Out of habit, I burn a cigarette. I’m surprised by my gall, but puff rings to explore what I can get away with . “Maybe it’s not so bad,” she says. “I could invest in some better furniture. Some more plants .” “Bloody hell, woman, you’ll believe anything if it’s flattery, won’t you?” I’ve pegged her, and she’s laughing. “I wouldn’t make beds in a burning house just yet,” I say . DERISION | 47 Mercedes squints at me like an old friend . “I’ve got you figured already, Elmo. You’re classy. You look like a beer-bellied sock puppet, but you’re fast on the draw. Maybe a genius hiding in plain sight .” “Baby, if any of my ex-girlfriends overheard you call me a genius, they’d die in hysterical laughter .” Mercedes finds me funny. My size in her unit is of a wizard visiting Bilbo. She isn’t a small woman until she stands by me. I’m avoiding a ceiling fan as I move . “You’re right, it’s a hovel,” she says. “I’m embarrassed to raise a fourteen-year-old here. I’m two years off fifty. Can’t afford a house. Sure you still want a job in security, Elmo ?” A solitary tap on her front door startles me from a lean. We face the door. Another single tap follows. A third lonely knock rallies words in Mercedes . “There’s someone behind it,” she says . “I know how doors work, love .” “Why do they tap so obnoxiously? I hate it !” “Let me handle this, Mercedes .” Julie Adams clutches my arm . I’m ready to shirtfront any creature the black lagoon has sent. I check the peephole . “Who is it, Elmo ?” A recognize the fish-eyed figure . “It’s the Reaper,” I say. “He’s followed us from the classroom .” “Tell him to leave, won’t you? He’s too early .” 48 | GENE HEAD I speak through the wood . “Now, listen to me. Cease your wrapping upon our door. We’d like you to leave. Don’t return lest you have an appointment .” “What’s he doing, Elmo ?” “Please be quiet, Honey Tits. I’ll tell you when I know .” Death turns, and I’m overjoyed he’s leaving without argument. He walks into a storm of ever- thicker pollen gale that hurtles tumbleweed and spins tin roof panels, and the panels cut trees and people in half, giving him lots of work to do . “He’s gone,” I say . My cigarette has burned short in the commotion. I crush the red glow into carpet under my step . “Where’s your workbench?” I ask her . “My what ?” “Your bed, darling .” 1 3 PEANUT

e’ve left the window ajar during the night, W and pollen has encrusted the room, sheeting the bed. A crepuscular ray punches floating particles through the window and ends at a coffee mug on my bedtable. Hardly JC’s wooden goblet, but only the visually impaired would miss the omen. My arms are coated with magic powder like moth wings . I am a moth . Mercedes’s enormous tits burst from under her lats because she sleeps naked and on her face. Her head is bent toward me, and pollen has gathered around her mouth, and it’s disgusting. I think of Kamahl’s “next day” tales of the women he’d bed during our bar-prowling days. The quality of Sheila’s we’d pull were fitting to the grimy alehouses we’d find them in . “You should’a seen what was sleeping on my shoulder when I woke up, Elmo,” he’d say . “Another dingo girl, Kamahl ?” 50 | GENE HEAD “I near chewed my arm off to sneak away without waking her .” Regardless of her pollen lips, Mercedes is no dingo girl. She’s stunning. I dress and go to her kitchen to have my forewarned coffee. A bean roast brews on a bench lower than the pocket on my blue-jean Levi’s because Mercedes’s kitchen is a short-people kitchen. A yellow peanut that is five feet tall has entered. It tells me Mercedes is its mother and shakes like a wet dog. An inch of pollen falls around its feet, and with the pollen removed, I can see pretty eyes and think it must be a girl peanut. Her shell is a café au lait color and not dark or soggy like boiled peanuts I’ve seen in cane bowls . “Hello, Peanut. I’m Elmo .” “Oh, I remember you. You did my mum’s course .” “It’s officially Porsha, isn’t it ?” “Yes.” “But you don’t mind me calling you Peanut ?” “That’s fine with me .” “I see now you’re named Peanut because you are, in fact, a peanut .” “Yes, it can be very confusing over a phone .” I’m drinking my coffee black and rich . I already care about Mercedes deeply, and her daughter, Peanut, who sits by me on the couch talking of the mineral soil field in North Carolina her parents plucked her from . “They were on holidays in America,” she says. “Pretty good timing, don’t you think ?” DERISION | 51 I am concerned about the state of the world and where Peanut’s place in it may be . “You got a truck?” she asks . “No.” “You got a bike, then ?” “I walk everywhere .” “My boyfriend has a truck. Don’t tell Mum .” “I’ll only tattle if this boy isn’t a nice nut like you. If he turns out to be a nutcracker, you’re in trouble .” “He’s from school. One grade above me .” “What is the young man’s name ?” “Augustine Beauregard Gustavsson Jr., but I call him Albert for short .” “Wow, he sure is a mouthful .” “That’s what she said,” says Peanut . “How do you know a joke like that ?” “Everyone knows that joke, Elmo .” “It’s inappropriate for a fourteen-year-old girl. Don’t let me hear you say that again .” “But, Elmo .” “No buts! Or I’ll wash your mouth out with soap .” “That’s what he said,” says Peanut . “Don’t be a Smart Alice !” We’re smiling, and Mercedes is with us now, kissing Peanut’s shell. I kiss Mercedes while Peanut goes to her room . “Good afternoon, HT .” “I didn’t sleep that late,” she says . I squeeze her bazookas together for sport. They bounce when I let them go, and her nipples ridge 52 | GENE HEAD under her singlet and point outward like chameleon eyes. Peanut has left her door open. She has tacked posters over every part of her wall. Pictures of wave-surfing hazelnuts and macadamia basketball stars. I’m disturbed by the largest poster, which shows a peanut butter jar with its lid removed. Two spoons dig into the paste . “Mercedes, do you know about that peanut butter thing above Peanut’s pillow ?” “The girl’s fourteen, Elmo. She doesn’t understand that stuff. Let her have fun .” “I can forgive one spoon, but two ?” “Elmo!” “All right, well, I should get going .” “Stay for breakfast .” “I’ve got a woman tied in my basement who I really should feed .” Mercedes thinks I’m hilarious . I am hilarious . She’s my Goldie Hawn, diving from hubby’s yacht . I win her in a blackjack game with Kurt . Mr. Carrot joins me as I walk to the bus stop. He’s describing me with insults again. I can’t fight back; he has no ears . Death creeps nearby . 1 4 SCRUTINY

find a letter in our box from Liquor, Gaming, I and Fair-Trading, and inside is my security licence. I’m disheveled in the photo . HT has loaned me her ex-husband’s tie. He’d left a bunch of stuff around the place. It’s brown with a white-red pattern, and she says it’s perfect for a job interview. I’m on level eighteen, which is on the top floor, waiting to be called in a hallway built to ambitious scale. There are high walls and a chapel-like stained window that gloats intimidation. The receptionist says executives will call for me soon. I examine the tie closer. The white and red lines are candy canes. This is a 54 | GENE HEAD novelty tie. I have no yellow particles on my clothing to concern me. People have adapted to the pollen so quickly; buildings like this now blow the debris right off your suit in vacuum-sealed compartments that are becoming common in lobbies . An office door opens, and a man introduces himself as Harry. I follow him to a room where I meet Rebecca and Avery. Rebecca is a woman and has a woman’s name. Avery is harder to figure out. Avery shares in common with tradesmen a pencil body with masculine shoulders and no visible butt. Satin bra straps peak from behind Avery’s frock, but Avery has no breasts. Lipstick brings a sexualized color to a face that seems otherwise at odds with itself. Harry is easy to pick. He has a man’s name and looks like many men I’ve seen before . A hard chair compels me rigid before their panel, and I’m nervous and want to drink beer or wine, but I cannot here. Rebecca wears a short skirt, visible under their desk, and her stockings disappear into darkness near her crotch. She shuffles and reveals pearl underwear catching sunrays and glowing like a galaxy’s heart. Avery’s frock is long and dangles at her ankles . “Do you feel fit, Elmo ?” “Yes, I am strong. I will be a good security guard .” Rebecca recomposes . “Of course, Elmo,” she says. “More accurately, are you of fit mind ?” DERISION | 55 “Yes. I think .” “At this firm, we dislike lawsuits,” says Harry . “I understand,” I say . “We aim to mitigate physical altercations,” says Avery. “We achieve this by hiring mostly female personnel. The sunny disposition female guards can bring to a venue of drunks is of great value .” “Our motto here is ‘Cheer is contagious,’” says Rebecca . “Do you have a problem with this, Elmo?” they ask . “No.” “Why not ?” “I’ve worked with women before. They are people, too .” “That is an excellent answer, Elmo,” says Rebecca . “You may work in nightclubs as the only male in a five-guard unit,” says Avery. “Four females and yourself. Do you understand ?” “Yes.” “They get paid the same wage as you,” says Rebecca. “Do you understand ?” “Yes, I think this is appropriate,” I say . “That is a superb answer, Elmo,” says Harry. “Sometimes, there will be physical duties only a man of your size is suitable for. Dangerous ones .” “I understand,” I say . “You are being interviewed expressly for duties that put you at risk of grievous bodily harm,” says Rebecca. “Your role as the male guard—though we 56 | GENE HEAD prefer the term reciprocal mediator —will be to evict especially unapproachable, savage, treacherous, murderous and deadly, drunk, wildly aggressive, boneheaded men who mean to kill you .” “Oh, yes, Elmo,” says Harry. “They mean to kill you. Even if only to prove they can, before an audience of excited, cheering, equally stupid, and intoxicated admirers of fuckwit behavior .” “I understand .” “You’re the only guard in these teams who will be placed in physical danger,” says Avery . “Yes,” says Harry, “the research shows drunk men need to prove themselves when they feel inadequate in their group. Such a scenario could mean a man like that will look for the biggest security guard in the room and king-hit him .” “Usually from behind,” says Avery . “We all know,” says Rebecca, “there’s no glory in socking a lady in the chops .” “Frankly,” says Avery, “the thin-armed women on our books can in no way be of help in such altercations. Of course, we can’t overstate it; your hourly wage equates identically to your counterparts. Does this sit well with you, Elmo ?” “Yes.” “Why ?” they ask again . “Equal pay is important to our society,” I say. “I want to be fair .” “Jolly good,” says Harry . “Just marvellous,” says Avery . Rebecca pats palms to cheeks in admiration . DERISION | 57 “We are most satisfied you’re of sound mind, Elmo. Welcome to the family .” “I got the job ?” “Yes, son. We’re unreserved in our decision. You’re prime meat .” I stand and fiddle with my tie . “I’d like to thank the panel for seeing me today .” “You’ll be in handsome uniform before you can say Jack Robinson,” says Rebecca . I’m leaving, but they’ve asked me to face them again . “Before you go, Elmo,” says Avery, “what say you to a game ?” “All right. What’s the game ?” “Harry, Rebecca, and me—marry, fuck, kill .” It’s a simple answer for me. I’ve pondered this throughout our interchange . “I’d marry Harry,” I say. “I’d kill you and fuck Rebecca .” They are crying with laughter, and we’re soon holding our sides. Rebecca, Avery, and Harry clap their hands raw, agreeing this has been a most wonderful job interview. I’m happy and making plans for my first paycheck . “Thanks for coming in, Elmo. Chat soon .” “Goodbye, everyone,” I say and wave and smile . 1 5 THE SMARTEST MEN IN THE BAR

enna’s voice yawps through a radio J transmitter plugged in my ear. Her section is the beer garden, and she reports it’s under control. Katie comes in loud and clear, asking for a radio check. The girls are as newly trained as I am and overuse this procedure to simulate competency . “Copy radio check,” says Jenna . “Copy radio check,” says Madeline . “Copy radio check,” says Angela . DERISION | 59 “Thank you,” says Katie . “That’s okay, Katie,” says all three . “Over and out .” Plastic teacups spill tap water, clinking toasts to friendship . My guard squad plays in a treehouse . An experienced officer was supposed to guide us through our first shift, but he’s sick tonight and the company threw us in the deep end with a smile and two thumbs up . Angela is cute as a buttercup. Kamahl would have pounced on her in a beat. The uncurbed libertine famous for his nightly fistfuls of napkins scrawled in phone digits. He’d describe the promiscuity of Australian girls like answered prayers. Kamahl never nicknamed Sri Lanka Teardrop of India . He called it the Isle of Untouchable Women . Aussie nightclubs at the turn of the century were a smorgasbord in comparison. Nothing like modern college bars. He wouldn’t have rubbed shoulders with the stiffs in here. I gaze at a dreary bunch of kids. Conversations, dull as dishwater, turning from quibble to complaint. The only laughs I hear come from faces stuffed in phone screens . “Elmo? Do you read us?” asks Jenna . “Copy, girls. I hear you .” The bar is small, and my post by a pot plant gives me visual on all personnel. I can even see Jenna’s beer garden through a glass wall. She’s brushing pollen from benches and collecting wet coasters. This isn’t her job, and it makes me angry. 60 | GENE HEAD Katie stands in a corner by the bathrooms, cloaked in shadows. She smiles at guys already unzipping for a piss as they travel by. I expect she’ll produce clean washcloths next. Madeline is swiping the face of her phone. I believe she is using social media, but I’m not sure. She cannot see how angry I am because she hasn’t looked up. Angela talks with a boy who wants a date but pussyfoots around the question. He’s stopping her from doing her job. A brouhaha from a table of skinny men gets my attention. One guy could be a risk. He struggles to stand, climbing on and off a stool, undecided. His coterie of equally unimpressive teenaged men don’t appear disorderly but are enjoying his wobble . My earpiece crackles again . “Madeline to security, radio check .” “Loud and clear, Madeline,” says Katie . “Copy radio check,” says the other two . They’re jamming the airwaves . “Over and out .” I’m too concerned about the teen beanpole slipping off his stool to play nice with the girls. I’ve decided to remove him from the venue. It’s easy to stroll through the crowd. The university’s tavern is more erudite than rowdy and dissimilar to the Animal House prankster piss-ups Hollywood once eulogized . I place a hand on his shoulder that dips like a gutter. He feels weak, and I’m relieved my first eviction will not intimidate me . “How’s your night, boys ?” DERISION | 61 “Can we help you ?” “That depends how your friend here is holding up .” “Do you mind taking your hand off his shoulder ?” Beanpole is facing his drink . “How’re you feeling, fella?” I ask his ear . “Excuse me, rent-a-cop. That wasn’t a request. Remove your hand .” I’ve swivelled him. He doesn’t respond to finger clicks . “I think we’ll call it a night for you, mate. Tell you what, I’ll even help you to the door .” One of them points a phone at me. I believe I’m on video . “Stop touching him .” “I’m holding him up, gents. He’s about to topple .” I straighten Beanpole, but when I release my hand, he tips, and I need to straighten him again. Others circle me with phones like a film crew . “This is harassment of a peaceful patron,” says a guy, who speaks whole words like syllables . “He’s no disturbance, yet , but the blessed boy can’t remember his name .” Beanpole hits my hand away and spills his drink in the maneuver. I’m assessing a broken glass hazard. More patrons gather around. They record me, too. Beanpole tilts from perpendicular and holds a table with a stiff arm. His spread feet turn him into a tripod, but his legs wiggle like a wet foal, and he grows weary and rests on the floor 62 | GENE HEAD by the glass. I’m forced to be familiar with him, and I bearhug Beanpole to his feet . “Breach!” they say . “Of what ?” “Hands off .” I look the drunken boy in the face . “Are you okay, bud ?” “He was fine until you grabbed him .” He bats my hands and falls over again, on his front now, and he crawls—the wrong way from the front door. He drags his belly over the glass shards. There’s blood and a scream . Clean up in aisle five, Madeline . Grab a mop, Jenna. Grab a bucket, Katie . Help me, for God’s sake, Angela . I cannot see the girls, and Beanpole stands once more and hurls a full beer at my head . I’m Boris Karloff, hunting with hands out . The bottle cracks the beer garden window. I see Jenna behind it, sending a text, or finding a date, or ordering a pizza . Eight students link elbows in a stockade between me and Beanpole, and I tug at their arms. It’s a sad task . “I appreciate a protest like any reasonable man, kids, but this boy’s a hazard .” “Let go,” they say . I pull the wall apart, and the students crow like I’m tearing them from superglue. I get to Beanpole again, but leave a long step between us . “Here’s your chance to leave on your own accord, pal .” DERISION | 63 He extends an arm and points his smartphone in my face to record our chat. He steps into my space, making demands with slurring words . “Touch me,” he says . “Step back, guy .” “Touch me. Go on, touch me. Touch me .” “That approach hasn’t worked well for you and I today. Let’s skip the manhandling. I’m asking you to leave as nice as I can .” “You’re intimidating him,” says a girl . Beanpole trips on a shoelace. I’ve grabbed him, and I’m tired of it . “Stop touching me !” he says . “Let him go,” says the crowd. “Get this on camera .” He’s puny and easy to control . “Somebody, help,” says a boy . Beanpole swipes his fingernails on my face. He’s harder to hold when he squirms, and this eviction looks messy . “You’re leaving the venue with me. I need you to cooperate .” “Are you detaining him?” someone asks . “What?” “This is defamation of liberty !” “I’m just getting this donkey out of here before he hurts someone .” “Under what code ?” Beanpole takes another chunk from my face. I execute a perfect wristlock. I’ve even impressed myself. He’s still kicking, and I don’t want us to find our way to a heap. A tactical pull on his hand. 64 | GENE HEAD He’s in pain. He stops moving; I believe he will comply. I give simple instructions . “You see that front exit ?” “Yes.” “You and I are going to stroll right out that door together. That sound good to you, cowboy ?” “You’ve just entered a civil matter with this paying customer,” says a boy . Beanpole walks two meters before he’s fighting again. A tug on his wrist. He feels pain. We’re back to step one . “I’ve explained this, buddy. You’ll feel that pain every time you don’t do as I ask. Now, where are we going ?” “To the front door,” he says . “Perfect. One foot after the other. Here we go .” I’m dancing a marionette across a stage. We’re doing great . “Make sure we get audio,” says a girl . “Get out of the path, I’m just doing my job .” “We have a duty to cite this. Code eighteen— unlawful arrest of a compliant patron without stating due cause for reasonable, necessary force .” I’m thinking of Mercedes. She’d have pulled this dummy out by the ear long ago. Beanpole’s pissed himself now. I’m holding him close, apparently, just so his piss can travel easier down my own legs. My colleagues will affectionately name me Piss-in-Boots if this gets out. And it will get out. Everything gets out these days . “You’ve gone and peed on me, guy .” DERISION | 65 “He’s not trespassing. This is recourse to sue for damages .” “I have one simple role: keep you lot safe. Do I really need to educate you on why bladdered drongos get tossed out of bars ?” “Please do, Mr. Safety, educate us. We’re only law students, after all. Please tell us what you learned in your one-day security guard course. We’re all ears .” The in crowd is laughing. I don’t know why. This guy isn’t really very funny . “He’s choking me,” says Beanpole . “I’m not choking you .” “Assault!” “Film this !” “Did this man batter you?” they ask . “I wouldn’t really call him a man .” “Did. He. Batter. You ?” “Half my flipping face is under his fingernails .” “He used self-defense. We’ve recorded it .” “I’m within operating procedures. I’m trying —” “Code sixteen: you may only use force when undue battery provokes …” The law student’s voice fades into the crowd’s florescent roar. I lay my little beanpole on the pavement outside and check his airway. He’s just pie-eyed and needs a nap. I face the hedgerow of cameras . “Your friend here needs a kip. He can sleep on this concrete slab, but when I was your age, I 66 | GENE HEAD appreciated when mates helped me onto a mattress .” “The only person responsible for this victim’s discomfort is you .” “Just help him home, you bunch of Muppets .” “Get fucked, cuckservative! We’ll slap a suit on you .” “What’s your guard number ?” “It’s clearly presented on my chest. I haven’t concealed it. I’ve only removed a drunk from a tavern. If this were the ’70s, a bloke twice my size with a moustache would’ve bounced this dipshit out of here like a volleyball. And by the way, I don’t know if you law experts read the placard on the bar, but profanity’s another reason to be asked to leave, so I’d quit the potty mouth .” “Ban our expression,” they say. “More wood for the fire .” I’m not enjoying my first shift . I log the incident in my officer’s notebook . 1 6 MANDATE

“ video has loomed from dark corners of the A internet, Elmo,” says Rebecca. “You’ve been virtue signaled. We have a strict policy on it .” “Yes,” says Avery. “You’ll never work on the college campus again .” “I followed my SOPs .” “Indeed, son,” says Harry. “Your procedures were textbook. We aren’t firing you .” “Why am I here ?” “We can’t have you waltzing about lacking empathy, Elmo,” says Avery. “Correct procedure doesn’t mean you are off scot- free .” 68 | GENE HEAD “What Avery is trying to say,” says Harry, “is you’re going to need re- circuiting .” “Yes,” says Rebecca. “There’s a wire loose somewhere in there. Nothing too alarming .” “My wires are loose ?” “He’s not understanding,” says Harry, who I suspect is drunk. He sips scotch in a velvet armchair that creaks when he lifts his glass. Rebecca sits in one, too, but Avery paces the room . There’s no desk between us this time. The carpet is now just red craft felt. The felt lumps like Shar Pei skin when I scuff my boots. I believe the tradesman forgot to use floor glue when laying it. Pollen floats in a window and sunlight turns it orange when yellow specks touch red felt. This is the same room from my original interview, but it’s changed. All furnishings have aged and match high walls of Art Nouveau design. The company has installed stained cedar trim and plinth block in the doorways. Light of the day delights us through a glass ceiling medallion. There is a fireplace and hot coals . “Do you like the renovations, Elmo ?” “Yes.” “What do you like, specifically ?” “I enjoy the early Victorian bookcase behind you. I like its color .” “That’s plum mahogany,” says Rebecca . “Well, someone here has good taste .” “Do you read, Elmo ?” “Yes.” “We have a wide range,” says Avery . DERISION | 69 I’m examining the bookshelf. There must be three hundred books all with the same title, squeezed so compact one would bury himself in novels if he pulled at any spine above his head. I can read the title but don’t recognize it .

High school librarian , I read nothing you recommended. I said I did , your smile so proud and stuffed with love .

“W E MIGHT AS WELL GET this over with,” says Avery, and she is taking a cattle branding iron off the hot coals . “Very well,” says the other two, lowering their gazes and swirling whiskeys. Avery is walking toward me with the glowing brand, which looks like a word in curly Sans serif. She is small, and I am not afraid until she presses it on my chest, and it burns past my shirt to scar me forever. I fall over in agony . “There, all over,” she says . “What does my chest say ?” I’m lifting my shirt before a tall mirror framed in golden patterns. The word Wrong is on me for life . 70 | GENE HEAD “Don’t ask for explanations,” says Rebecca . “Best you learn it here than out there, son,” says Harry . “All right,” I say. Rebecca pours a stiff drink for me. It masks the pain when I throw back a shot. “If I’m not fired, then what’s my next mission ?” “Goodness, I can barely think with Avery pacing the room like this,” says Harry . “Yes, it is a bit distracting, Avery,” says Rebecca. “Won’t you sit, please ?” “I’d enjoy nothing more,” says Avery . Avery is attempting to sit but having trouble. She’s up and down about it like pain is preventing the action . “Are you all right, Avery ?” “It’s a trifle embarrassing,” says Avery. “I’ve tucked my testicles somewhat rather too far backward. I had expected in doing so I’d be attractive .” “Oh, but you are already attractive,” says Rebecca . “Thank you,” says Avery. “Only now when I try to ensconce myself, the result is a sudden and direct plonking down upon my balls .” “Oh dear, how uncomfortable,” says Harry . “It certainly is, Harry .” “If I may remark, Avery,” I say. “I really think the tuck is unnecessary. Especially in the face of discomfort. You’re a splendid woman, with or without balls .” “Thank you, Elmo, but I really prefer to disguise the bulge .” DERISION | 71 “Honestly, a bump under a pleated skirt can look good to some people. There are practically thousands who are fond of it. Why don’t you let the little guys breathe down there ?” Avery rolls her long skirt into crumples at her naval. Her pale legs make a number eleven. Her hands full of her skirt, I jump to show candor by helping . “Allow me, Avery .” I slide my palm under her floral panties, and it feels unusual as I adjust her floppy cock and cup a well-manicured set of balls into position. Everyone’s smiling, and Avery lets her skirt fall to its natural state. She sits in an armchair comfortably . “Goodness, Elmo, have you got an erection?” asks Rebecca . I’ve realized she’s correct . “I’m as baffled as you, Rebecca. Perhaps it’s a nervous erection. These penises of ours can have minds of their own .” “Judging from the outline under those cotton dockers, I’m guessing you’re Jewish?” she asks . “No, darling, just standard procedure in Aussie hospitals until the eighties .” “Oh, that’s right,” says Avery. “I’d almost forgotten what circumcision looked like. I don’t smoke a lot of pole from your generation .” “You’re in good company,” says Harry. “I got the chop when I was a lad. Damn thing looks like a baby’s arm holding an apple .” “A barbaric procedure,” says Rebecca. “I’ve 72 | GENE HEAD read doctors would also dangle babies by the ankles and spank them on arrival. Antiquated, don’t you agree, Elmo ?” “There are reasonable theories for the spankings,” I say . “What’s the purpose ?” “Doctors smack them to knock the cocks off the stupid ones .” Harry’s over his knees, laughing. Rebecca is still uneasy because she won’t stop looking at my hard -on . “I’m uncomfortable about you having a boner so near to me, Elmo,” she says . “My deepest apologies, Rebecca. I’ve read stiffies can be intimidating. I’ll make it go away .” “Thank you .” The group whispers about my fate while I wish away my bonk . A platoon of army boots stomps Spaniel puppies to death . A Rottweiler mauls a baby . My cock is now soft . The triad has concluded and addresses me . “Elmo, we don’t like lawsuits .” “I understand .” “We’re concerned you’re not progressive enough. Our clients want guards sympathetic to our times .” “I understand .” “Put on your kid gloves next shift,” says Rebecca. “No more wrestling .” Avery cuts in. “Remember the aphorism, Elmo. DERISION | 73 The sensitive thing on the end of a dick is the knob. The insensitive thing on the other end is the man attached to it .” “I understand .” “If in doubt, son,” says Harry, “just look at that burn on your chest .” “Yes, sir .” Harry hiccups and vomits at the same time. The hiccup shoots the vomit across the room, saving his shirt. However, wandering chunks drip from his chin and ruin the knot of his tie. Avery spits on her blouse and dabs it clean for him . I seize an opportunity in the silence and announce my regret . “I want to apologize to the panel for my behavior at the college bar. I extend compassion and support for any reprimand you see fit .” They smile. I feel good about owning my part in this . “Can we trust you on another assignment, Elmo ?” “Of course, Harry. I’m your man .” “Are you sure you still want a job within this company, Elmo ?” “Does the pope protect priests that fuck children, Rebecca ?” 1 7 CONFOUNDED

’m furious because Mr. Turnip is my backup I tonight. He’s found work within the company, gets paid the same rate as me, and is my backup tonight. Turnip struggles to keep up during a mobile patrol of Forthxe Hill’s sporting stadium. His ankles are thick and purple because of diabetes. We leave tracks through a five-inch pollen fall upon our landscape. He scratches psoriasis down his sides. I drift with him, like walking an eight-feet tall toddler who refuses the DERISION | 75 pram. We drive between checkpoints after each foot patrol. Satellites track the phones in our pockets to each site’s geo-fencing. I do all the driving because Turnip’s narcolepsy prevents his safe use of vehicles. He’s provided a note from his doctor, and I accept this as a valid inconvenience . We walk the parameter by the car park and screams of fun float closer. An F-truck burns rubber circles and we see a girl flashing her breasts from a window and a man hangs his arse from another. Turnip is shocked and trips into my hug, which saves him from a total fall. The driver yells at us . “Get a room, fagots !” I’m relieved they aimed the mockery at both of us, and I’m watching for Turnip’s reaction. His pain eases my own . “They can’t say that word, Elmo .” “They just did, mate .” “But they can’t .” “Well, go tell them. Be my guest .” We continue around the perimeter, shaking metal gates and assessing their locks. The truck’s gone, and silence returns . “Did you hear that?” asks Turnip . “No.” “Listen.” I’m listening, but there isn’t anything happening—only the dreary nothing which has haunted our patrol all evening. Turnip has drawn attention to the noiseless dark several times, and I’m sure it’s an attempt to simulate competent 76 | GENE HEAD guard behavior like the guards on my first shift. I’m also aware his hearing could be unreliable, his ears but shallow holes hacked into his temples by my girlfriend. I’m tired and blame Turnip for my problems until I concede—turnips do no harm. Some even regard them as nutritious. Still, I snap at him. I’ve become my father . “Turnip!” “What?” “You’re slowing us down, man .” “It’s my black rot .” “What’s black rot ?” “Bacterial pathogens are destroying my vascular system. It’ll kill me one day. I’ve got a doctor’s note .” I look forward to the night Turnip phones in sick for a shift because he’s died from black rot . I spot a security risk . “Look at that, Turnip .” “Look at what ?” “Someone’s left that gate wide open. Looks like it might be a faulty bolt. Could enable a break -in .” “Should we radio base, Elmo ?” “Maybe we can fix it, buddy. We just need a hammer .” Turnip bounces to the Mazda and pulls a tennis bag from the trunk . “What is it?” I ask . He lifts a small mallet from the zip. It has a wooden handle . DERISION | 77 “Tool bag,” he says. “Never go to a job without it .” “Shit, Turnip, I’m impressed. You’ve even got a bloody mallet in there .” “This is Smashy . I’ve had him since high school. Smashed a lotta shit over the years with ol’ Smashy here .” He hands Smashy to me, and I kneel at the hinges and start hitting the bolt. Turnip watches over my shoulder and is too close, and I can’t get a good swing . “Step back a bit, mate .” With more room, I’m sending the mallet in circles like I’m driving down a circus tent peg . “Hit that thing!” says Turnip . He’s a one-man cheer squad, and I wind up a thunderous finish and miss the bolt and break the handle to splinters on the rim . “You broke him .” “Sorry, Turnip .” I hand back the tool in bits. It’s a sad display as Turnip cradles his mallet like a dead infant . “Good ol’ Smashy,” he says. The shift has been bleak, and the death of Smashy has turned out to be a welcome emotional interlude, and we give a moment’s silence for the fun of it . We chain the gate and snap the ABUS Eighty Three . “Is it secure ?” “God himself couldn’t break that lock, Turnip .” I log the incident in my officer’s notebook and radio base . 78 | GENE HEAD “Charlie One to base. Copy ?” “Go ahead, Charlie One .” “Locale–inside stadium compound. Some clever monkey has left a gate wide open in here. Turnip and I have locked it up .” “Rodger. You’ve got a keen eye, Elmo. Nice work .” “Thank’s, Soup .” I steer the Mazda in circles, chauffeuring Turnip around the fence line. We drive for a long while . “Hang on a minute, Turnip. We’ve driven past that Pepsi can twice now .” “Where’s the exit, Elmo ?” “I’m looking for it, buddy .” I stop at the gate we shackled five minutes ago. A slender shrub and red HAZMAT box look familiar . “Shit.” “What, Elmo ?” “There, mate—that’s our exit .” “No, Elmo. That’s the gate the monkey left open. We just fixed it .” “That’s the darn gate we came in through, Turnip. We’re the birdbrain’s that left it open .” “We’re the monkeys ?” “Yes, mate.” I grab the two-way. “Charlie One to base .” “Go ahead .” “Yeah, disregard former incident report. Turnip and I have locked ourselves in. We’ll correct the mistake and press on .” DERISION | 79 There’s a break, a few buzzy clicks, then belching laughter over the transceiver. The office is killing themselves . “You fuckin’ dipshits,” says the superintendent. He lights up the company radios. “All units respond .” “Go ahead, Soup .” “Reading you clear, Soup .” “Elmo’s no longer Piss-in-Boots,” he says. “From hear on he answers to Shit-for- Brains .” Turnip and I listen to the staticky banter as we drive to the next site. We’ll return in an hour for a second patrol. Turnip tunes the stereo. I’m being tortured by Lou Bega and his “Mambo No . 5.” “They don’t make ’em like they used to,” he says, rocking his bulb to the simple rhythm . Lead Belly’s bones roll in his wooden box . Tom Waits wonders, somewhere, why his coffee just turned bitter . We arrive at the athletes’ village and there are cobblestone paths and leafy hedges and the hedges are yellow, overspread in pollendrift. My pocket vibrates as global positioning records where I stand. We fan electric pocket torches over shadowy corners. The games begin tomorrow. International competitors wander and sip orange juice and fumble with chopsticks and boxes of noodles. They are young and frisky and have worked hard to be here. They’re so juvenile they may not see how rare their experience is . “Youth is wasted on the young,” I say . 80 | GENE HEAD “These athletes should be inside, Elmo. There’s a curfew .” “The curfew’s not our beeswax to mind, mate. Games officials regulate that. We just inspect blind spots for public fighting or public fucking. If we see either, we call it in and go home to our beautiful wives .” I think Mercedes would be proud . “Okay, Elmo .” “Turnip.” “What?” “See that cabin ?” I point at a door sprayed with graffiti: Go Home Curry Munchers . “What do you think it means, Elmo ?” “Curry’s what Indians eat, Turnip. This is where the Indian team sleeps. Do the math .” “Holy crap, that’s racist ,” he says. Then doubts himself. “It is racist, isn’t it, Elmo ?” “Yes, Turnip, it’s racist as fuck .” “Should we call it in ?” “Yes, mate, we should .” The police show interest and say they’ll attend. I figure there’s a ton of exposure around the games. Money talks, and so do magazines. Shows how fast things get done when there’s an Action 4 news van nearby . “Let’s move on, Turnip .” “Don’t we wait for the cops ?” “No-can-do, buddy. We’ve got a schedule to keep .” “Oh yeah, I forgot. I’d lose my head if it wasn’t DERISION | 81 screwed on .” “I’d throw my head away if it looked like yours, Turnip .” “You can’t say that, Elmo .” “Why not ?” “Because we’re at work .” I log the incident and we carry on until we pass a giant woman who speaks on a telephone. She has a first-class British accent, and a deep voice, and black skin that shimmers, and cornrow braids, and shoulders, brawny and sexy. Veins extend above the surface of her neck, and I’m certain she could box the daylights from me . “You notice that chick, Turnip ?” “What about her ?” “Trans?” “Maybe.” “Come on, that’s Hercules with breasts .” “There’re heaps of them, Elmo. It’s normal these days .” “Granted, but she’s an athlete .” “There’s nothing bad about that, either .” “Aren’t you curious if she competes against usual ladies ?” Turnip goes blank, and I realize how worthless his opinion is. The woman approaches us . “Why the interest, boys ?” “Nothing, Ms. Have-a-safe- evening .” “I’m almost positive my safety wasn’t the topic. What was so interesting about me you were discussing ?” “I’d describe it as pondering, really .” 82 | GENE HEAD “How fortunate I feel,” she says. “Have I just witnessed such a rarity in the wild? Two wise ruminants, dressed, for reasons unknown, oddly like low-wage security guards .” “Jesus, lady .” “Pray, tell, what dilemma has caused such absorbed mediation in you both ?” “All right, fine. I made a bet with my colleague you competed in the women’s division. Happy now ?” “Is this a typical concern for Australian security personnel ?” “No, and it was a private comment, not intended to harm. Can we go now ?” “Why debate my division ?” “Jeeze Louise, if you must know —” “Yes, I’m pretty bloody certain I must !” “It’s a matter of ignorance on my part. I don’t know about this stuff, but I wrestle drunks for a living, and I couldn’t go twelve rounds with you. I just wonder how usual women hold up in your competition .” “What sex would you have me compete against, Captain Answers? Is there a division for freaks in Australia ?” “Lady, I confess my slow wit on the subject. I’m a dope. I don’t have any answers .” “Fresh out of answers, but full of opinions. Where do dopes get opinions? Is there a right wing handbook I should consult ?” “I’m not right wing, honey .” DERISION | 83 “Of course not, Captain Answers. You support social reform, don’t you ?” “Yes, I bloody support progress and all that. I guess I haven’t thought this out enough to hold myself in a discussion like this, that’s all .” “I see, you’re just an all-around good guy, aren’t you, Mall Cop? Defending me and the other freaks with that bunch of keys and a nightstick .” “We’re not allowed nightsticks,” says Turnip . “Shut up, Turnip .” She folds her arms . “I said nothing to you, lady. There’s no malice here .” “To me, about me. Explain the difference .” “If I addressed you directly and called you Scary Spice or something, you’d have every reason to nail me on a cross, and by gum, I’d defend your right to do so. Instead, you’ve eavesdropped—poorly—on a private conversation. That’s where we stop. We’ve got a job to do. Good luck at the games .” “I’m sorry, Scary Spice ?” “A colorful figurative, lady .” “One word— litigation .” “I beg your pardon ?” “I’m sorry, that’s a big word for a security guard, isn’t it? I’ll explain. Litigation means I’m inviting you for a friendly chat at the courthouse. You do know what a courthouse is? A country built on convicts surely has a judicial system .” They’ve thrown me to a gladiator without my padded jousting stick . 84 | GENE HEAD Crocodiles swim below our beam . “Love, I’m just trying to serve my community .” “You’re not police. You’re hired help .” “We got off on the wrong foot. I feel terrible you overheard me. Can we shake on it and go separate ways ?” “You feel bad ?” “Yes.” “None of us need your pity .” “Listen, lady, I’m pretty sure a lot of trans people wouldn’t want someone so disputatious speaking for them. If you’re accusing me of patronizing the entire group, that’s obtuse .” “Tell me what I’m doing, Captain Opinion .” “Oh, Captain Opinion now? I thought I was Captain Answers, or Mall Cop, or a meditating ruminant. Can you even see me from up there on that ivory soapbox, you bloody Warhawk? Didn’t you notice this canned spaghetti stain on my uniform? I’m not earning big bickies for this gig. Teenagers make my wage stacking trolleys in supermarkets. I’m a dropkick without a college degree, and I catch a bus to work. I’m no threat to a professional at the top of her game. All I want is to apologize and light a cigarette .” “I’d appreciate your name and guard number, she says .” I log the incident . 1 8 BIG BOOBS

eanut is trying on wigs. She looks too good in P the blonde one. I encourage her to wear the Auburn wig . “But I like the blonde one. Mum has blonde .” “Yes, I know, Peanut. But I worry about you leaving the house blonde .” “Why?” “You’re very pretty blonde. This can be a problem for young girls. You don’t understand yet .” “But I want to be beautiful like Mum !” Mercedes has walked in . “Mum, can I be blonde like you ?” “Of course, Peanut .” “See, Elmo! Mum says it’s fine .” Peanut storms across the living area and slams her bedroom door . “How was your shift last night, handsome ?” “I’m being sued .” “Oh, dear .” 86 | GENE HEAD Mercedes lifts a fistful of Butternut Snaps from inside Paul Keating’s head. I wonder if she stores the fat from her cookie obsession in her tits. It’s got to be going somewhere . “Are you worried?” she asks . “Yes.” She sits beside me on our blue couch and chews a cookie and places three cookies in a row from her knee to halfway up her stocking. She picks her blouse buttons. Her top slides off, and the bra she unclips from the front shoots away like a busted balloon’s skin . She lowers my face into her cleavage and pushes each boob against my ears. I cannot hear the world anymore and I cry . 1 9 NOTORIOUS

watch myself on TV. The station replays I footage of me checking HT’s mailbox. I’m shirtless and hairy and in slow motion. A deadening tone plays under the reel. I think it makes me look more ruinous and depraved than I am. There is only one good bit, when I flick my cigarette. It looks cool spinning in slo-mo, and my face is cool , too . I’m watching the TV set from my bed. Rose has invited herself over and collects her belongings . “Elmo, I love you .” “I’m sorry, Rose. I’ve got a new life .” She takes a paper bag of knick-knacks and walks to the exit . “Well, goodbye, Elmo .” “Goodbye, Rose .” The news reporter says I’m an example of prescribed masculine behavior. She says I’m irresponsible and dysfunctional and dangerous. 88 | GENE HEAD The law students from the bar wear nice shirts for their interviews. They utter Beanpole’s fittingly dorky name, Dougal . He reveals bruises and skin grazes . On Channel Two, the transexual athlete, Jemima Harrison , answers questions with her coach. She’s had much success and won medals. She speaks to ten microphones about her experience with me. Ms. Harrison wants my formal apology, and media outlets promise her no less than a week of fame. Her coach toots a boy scout whistle while dogs howl nearby . I’m not sure what the internet says about me . I’m glad I don’t have a computer, and I refuse to look at my phone . I’m scared people don’t like me. I believe if I read about it, I’ll never stop . 2 0 AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT MAMMALS

puff cigarettes in HT’s bed, and she reads a I murder mystery paperback in a gown that looks like a paper doily. She slaps the book in her lap . “You’re doing it again, Elmo .” “What?” “You’ve been sighing like that for days .” “I’m sorry, Honey Tits. I can’t figure it out .” “What troubles you ?” “I’m not sure if my values serve me anymore or if I’m hate on display. Am I an MCP ?” “Where do you get these acronyms?” she asks . “Male Chauvinist Pig. I learned it from the television. It used to just mean Microsoft Certified Professional !” 90 | GENE HEAD “You’re a good man, Elmo. I don’t shack up with no- hopers .” “I feel mocked for asking questions, and can’t keep up with the lingo. I only understand you, and our squeaky bed that we read books on and fall to sleep in, and I enjoy drinking this beer with you, and watching your eyes blink, sleepy .” She’s tossed the book on her dresser . “You know what you need, Elmo ?” “What’s that ?” “You need my help. Mummy doesn’t enjoy seeing you bullied .” I’m drunk from my beer. She’s already at her drawers tying something around her pelvic bone, padded in fat from those biscuits she loves . “What are you putting on ?” Mercedes almost bungles a pirouette but stays afoot, and she’s broad-stepped and facing me while a long rubber penis wobbles outwardly attached at her crotch. This seems the only proper place for it, but I still find it horrible . “Elmo, meet John Thomas .” “Mary and Joseph on an airplane, love. Put that thing down .” “But John Thomas wants to play,” she says . “Tell Mr. Thomas it’s rude to point .” I take another pull on my beer and Mercedes climbs over me. She’s too heavy for a drunk to wiggle out from under. She takes my beer and pours it down my throat. I swallow quickly and don’t waste it . DERISION | 91 “Someone has to remove that bug up your butt .” “There’s no bug. I’m a friendly fellow .” “Sometimes, Elmo, but sometimes you pick bones with people. Cool it for a night. Finish your drink. Drop your shorts .” She’s got my pants off . “I don’t know, HT, it’s not my idea of a fantasy. I’m apprehensive .” “Nonsense, and I won’t be gentle if you protest .” “HT—” “On your belly, Elmo, quick smart !” I am drunk, and I’ve noticed I’m already on my chest and have forgotten how this began. My girlfriend’s inserting a rubber penis into me, which has never happened before . “Oh, God .” “That’s a good boy. Mummy likes good boys .” “Oh, heck, oh, bloody heck. I’m not sure. I don’t think I like penises when they’re going in me .” “Who’s Mummy’s big boy ?” “Me,” I say . “Yes, Elmo’s a big boy today, isn’t he ?” “God, Zeus, Poseidon, Apollo, Kanye .” Mercedes is butt fucking me harder than I butt fucked Kate Duffy on prom night. I feel awful now that she had to ride her pushbike home afterwards . “What are you, Elmo ?” “A big boy—I’m a big boy today .” 92 | GENE HEAD “There’s Mummy’s big boy,” she says and pushes again . “Oh, my God. Mercedes, Mercedes …” “Yes, darling ?” “Mercedes, I love you .” 2 1 EYE SPY

y morning cigarettes aren’t the same M anymore because of all the bloody pollen out here. I mostly smoke indoors, but I’ve stepped out because Peanut is home and should not inhale this. A turbo engine whistles as a convertible drives down our street. Two guys yell at me from leather seats . “Heya, Big Boy !” They laugh around the bend, and I finish my cigarette . 94 | GENE HEAD At the breakfast table, Mercedes buries her face and weeps, as women do sometimes, but I don’t understand why, which is normal as well. At least Peanut is happy . “You’re famous, Elmo,” says Peanut, rocking in her chair. “I can tell my friends I know a famous person .” “I’m famous? Oh, because I was on the TV ?” Mercedes stretches her arm across the buffalo- checked tablecloth and clutches my knuckles . “No, darling,” she says . “Then what ?” Peanut flashes her phone screen at me . “You’re a meme, now,” she says . I look at her phone. Someone’s glued my face on an image of a nobleman who jabs his sword to a sunrise from a mountaintop . “Who’s that ?” “That’s Ned Stark,” says Peanut . There are bold letters above the picture— I’M A BIG BOY TODAY . Mercedes can see I’m lost . “What is it , HT ?” “A meme,” she says. “Those vultures made a joke out of you .” “What’s the gag ?” “My computer was open in our bedroom. The webcam, Elmo. All this junk about you in the news lately. They’ve hacked in looking for dirt .” “What flaming camera ?” “They filmed us last night .” “Last night ?” DERISION | 95 “Yes.” “People can do that ?” “Filmed what, Mum ?” “Nothing, Peanut .” “How come all these memes say Elmo’s a big boy ?” There are more when I swipe . Clint Eastwood looks angry and aims a gun; GET OFF MY LAWN printed above. Under that, my coy face from last night— I’M A BIG BOY TODAY . “This isn’t me, it’s a simulacrum. They’ve got no idea .” “You think that matters, Elmo ?” “What’s a sim-ye-lacrum?” asks Peanut . “Fuck!” “Yeah,” says Mercedes. “ Fuck is a pretty fucking good word for it .” “Oh my God, a video of last night !” “I’m so sorry, Elmo .” “Fuck—shit— fuck .” “What’s going on, Mum ?” “Get ready for school, Peanut .” “Fuck!” I’m swiping through hundreds of these things. I’m king of the internet . “No— no —no !” 2 2 JAPAN MAN

ollen builds on my shoulders while I walk P through the streets. Wind drags curly chalk lines across the sky from a thousand flower faces in many gardens. Yellow flakes adorn our skyline backdrop, and Forthxe Hill’s people look like hippies on a ’67 concert poster, but our world is not like the summer of love. More gardens appeared overnight. The beds are colorful but masked behind haze and bleached in sun. DERISION | 97 Caterpillar tread snowplows push pollen into hills, helping cars through . A small gentleman in a suit collides with me in the mist. He looks like a Japanese person . “Sorry to bump you,” I say . “That is okay,” he says. “I am Fumihiro. From Japan .” “I thought you might be .” “Why?” he asks . “Your eyes look Japanese. I had a friend from Sri Lanka once. You could tell because he was brown .” “Oh, I see,” says Fumihiro . “I’m Elmo, from Australia .” Fumihiro describes his loneliness. He’s in town on business for one year and has made no friends . “I don’t enjoy Australia, Elmo .” “Why not, Fumihiro ?” “My girlfriend is in Osaka. This is many miles away .” I grow hungry for the photograph of his pretty girlfriend. I learn she is named Fang and think this name is inappropriate for a woman so lamblike . “Fang is Japanese,” he says. “It’s convenient .” “My girlfriend is Australian, Fumihiro, which I find convenient, too .” “That is interesting, Elmo, but Fang is surely a superior partner .” “How can you say that ?” “Because Fang is beautiful .” “My girlfriend is also beautiful,” I say. “She 98 | GENE HEAD has large breasts. I even squeezed milk from them once .” “This sounds nice, Elmo, but time is not in your favor. How old is she ?” “Mercedes is forty-eight. It’s perfect because I’m forty-one and enjoy mature conversation .” “Australian women are not beautiful at this age, Elmo. Also, their eyes slant the wrong way .” “You’re very rude, Fumihiro .” “Japanese women look like teenagers up to their last birthday,” he says. “They are always arousing .” “Your women don’t have jumbo tits like mine .” “Some do, Elmo .” “Well, not all Australian females are skanks after thirty, either .” Fumihiro’s shoulders slump and he looks at his feet . “It has been difficult living among Australian women, so large and burned to freckles and they don’t smile enough,” he says . I puff my chest out. No longer a chimp . I’ve downgraded to baboon . “You may be large, Elmo, but Japanese men are studious and wealthy. You are poor, and stupid. I can tell just by looking at you .” He’s confident, and I think he’s right about me . I wonder how long it’s been since I was correct about anything . DERISION | 99 Clumsy oaf I be , Onion of many layers — Still so dumb as shit . 2 3 B O R A X

eanut sits short on a three-legged stool in the P back corner of the room. Her school principal wears a tweed suit. Mercedes and I sit before his desk. He warns this meeting regards Peanut’s misbehavior . “Peanut has violated the morality statute,” he says . John Spartan, you are fined one credit , I still don’t understand the seashells . Peanut adjusts a paper cone on her head . “Was the dunce hat necessary?” I ask . “Mrs. Gronald—” says Principal . DERISION | 101 “Ms.,” she says . “Yes, of course, Ms. I’m afraid Peanut teases people around here .” “Teasing? Who has she teased ?” The man loosens his tie . “The speds. We’ve got a ton at this school .” “What are speds ?” “Our special education students,” he says. “Learning disabled, all that stuff .” “I see,” says Mercedes . “Do you mean she’s a bully, Principal?” I ask . “Not quite, but she gossips at their expense, butting them on the end of jokes. I don’t like being crude, but the situation calls for details. Peanut here seems to think it’s perfectly acceptable to poke fun at handicaps .” “What in the world has she done to cause such offense ?” “I’m afraid offense doesn’t even cut the meat, Ms. Gronald .” I hear Peanut sobbing . “Spit it out, Principal .” “Obscene. That’s the word I like. A fiasco. She’s been—imitating the spazzes .” “Spazzes?” “The mentals. They look different to regulars like us. They’re sensitive. There’s a blasted midget in the mix. Can you imagine? I’ve got my hands full, I tell you .” “Of course,” says Mercedes, “but I’ve raised my daughter to respect midgets. This is a misunderstanding .” 102 | GENE HEAD “I wish it were, Ms. Gronald. Typically, Peanut is a pleasure to teach, but facts remain. We caught her curling about like a pretzel, mimicking Steady Eddy .” “Who’s Steady Eddy ?” “The worst one in the bunch,” he says. “I’m embarrassed to admit I don’t know his actual name. It’s Polish or something. A practical tongue twister. The faculty nicknamed him for productivity’s sake .” “You mean like the comedian from the ’ 90s ?” “Precisely, Mr. Brenner. Call it a respectful homage .” “Sounds cruel, if you ask me,” says Mercedes . “It might be churlish, but it’s hush-hush around here, and you wouldn’t be nit-picking if you laid eyes on the little beggar. Hapless sod couldn’t walk into a club without winning a dance competition—and now, your flaming daughter has taken full advantage of that. The children have laughed themselves sick at Peanut’s antics .” “Shit, this is all my fault,” I say . “How so?” asks Mercedes . “What have you done, Mr. Brenner ?” “Well, I showed Peanut a joke between friends .” The headmaster’s cane chair creaks like it’s alive and hurting as he sits forward, purple- cheeked, to lend a good ear . “Go on, Mr. Brenner. I’m beyond curious .” “It’s an old gag from way back. I was bonding DERISION | 103 with the girl. I’m the new man on the scene, you see. HT’s got me playing Dad .” “HT?” “Short for Honey Tits .” The principal studies Mercedes . “Oh,” he says. “On account of the giant melons ?” “Yes. Anyway, I bet Peanut she couldn’t reach both her index fingers to the elbow on the same arm while touching the tip of her nose with her tongue. I told her only three people have ever done it. It got her going .” Mercedes chuckles, but the principal needs help . “What does it achieve?” he asks . I’m already handing him my phone . “I snapped a photo when she tried it .” He fumbles with horn-rimmed eyeglasses and holds the picture beneath his nose . “My goodness,” he says. “She looks positively retarded .” “It’s a doozy, isn’t it?” I turn and see Peanut, hoping for a favorable outcome. “We had a good chortle over it, didn’t we, Peanut ?” I wink, and a smile lights her dial. Headmaster returns my phone by sliding it across his desk. It drops over the front, and I’m lucky to catch it . “I’m sorry. As funny as the photo is, Peanut simply must be punished .” “Surely not, Principal .” “I don’t see another way, Mr. and Ms. Gronald .” 104 | GENE HEAD “We aren’t married .” “Well, this is beginning to make sense,” he says . “Peanut’s a good kid, mate. I feel terrible because this is my fault .” The headmaster has grown tired of us. “This nonsense never ends,” he says. “All I hear is ‘Principal Carter, the school play is cultural appropriation.’ ‘Principal Carter, curved bowls distort reality for goldfish.’ I’ll be in the papers tomorrow if I don’t make an example of someone .” “What do you suggest ?” He’s drawing on air like his tie’s shrinking . “Honestly—concerned committee members are recommending we use the Gollychomper .” Mercedes lets out a guffaw . “The Gollychomper was retired .” “It’s back , Ms. Gronald. It would seem not soon enough, in my opinion .” “What in the world is a Gollychomper?” I ask . Peanut cries. The principal stands, tugs a string on a paper tube installed over a chalkboard. The spring-loaded mechanism unrolls and we’re looking at a vintage schematic of a machine. Headmaster points to wooden stocks before a giant bottle cleaning brush with stiff bristles . “For your education, Elmo, Peanut will be bent over and have her neck and wrists clamped here. You see the stocks?” He’s pointing with a yard length of dry sugar cane . “Yes, I see .” “You’ll notice behind them is this bristled DERISION | 105 whipping cylinder. It spins, the bristles temporarily bent backward by this rod, creating tension. When the bristles find their way beyond it, they come down upon her butt with a painful slap .” “Oh dear,” says Mercedes . “The whole thing is really well designed, Ms. Gronald. It’s environmentally powered by these boys in the background.” He points at schoolboys dressed in hats and knickerbockers who pedal bicycles with no wheels. The bike chains stretch into the side of the contraption. “After Peanut’s backside is whipped red, she’ll be released from the stocks and have a chance to run to her freedom .” “What would stop her?” I ask . “The public will be given flaming javelins to throw while she crosses the cricket pitch, most likely impaling her and burning her alive .” I think it’s strange that Kamahl floats to my mind. Maybe it’s all this damned pollen in my lungs. A smoky image of his white teeth smile, of cracking the tins together and chasing the girls and shooting the breeze. Where did you vamoose to, mate ? “Holy guacamole,” I say. “That’s a bit rich for my blood .” “The Gollychomper’s been a tradition at this school since it was pioneered, Elmo. You challenge conventional wisdom at your own peril .” “I don’t care,” says Mercedes. “You’re not setting Peanut alight for public relief. It’s bad enough these pathological groups sponsor banned 106 | GENE HEAD library book bonfires. I won’t stand by while they kill Peanut .” “Darn it, what then? If you’ve both got the answers. These people want a head to roll. They’ve got me by the nutsack .” “Won’t a suspension do it, Principal?” I ask. “Give it a week. I’ll teach her about social conventions myself. You’re welcome to oversee any or all of it .” His cane chair announces it’s taking his weight again as he leans backward, dusting pollen piecemeal from a brown tie. His thumbs play war while he thinks. Mercedes squeezes my hand . “Very well,” he says. “We won’t burn Peanut. I’ll explain to the committee .” “Thank you, Headmaster .” “Not so quick. If Peanut so much as farts a vulgar jibe at one of my spastics again—or any weirdo at this school—I swear, I’ll set her on fire myself .” “You don’t need to worry, Principal Carter. Thanks again .” “The pleasure was mine, Ms. Gronald. Don’t forget to validate your parking .” As we walk to the Monte Carlo, I sneak Peanut a look at her retard photo. She’s got her teenaged giggles back and seems happy, as fourteen-year- old girls should be . 2 4 F O R U M

jury of peers watches and all but one are A red truss tomatoes. The tomatoes have made an oath on the Bible. The lone renegade is a young woman with groovy blue hair, and she’s sensational. She swore a declaration of honesty. Judge sits at the front in the usual way. He has no eyes or nose, only a mouth on flat skin and a man’s voice. I see an ear in his mouth, which must be his tongue. Judge wears a barrister’s wig 108 | GENE HEAD that brings a solemnity to his bizarre appearance. The prosecution is three steps to my right. Jemima Harrison discusses strategy with her council . My lawyer is Stephen and prefers Stevie the Wonder . “Why is there only one blue-haired woman on the jury, Stevie ?” “We’re in tomato country, Elmo. It shouldn’t surprise you .” “I didn’t even know tomatoes could be on juries. I eat them with ham .” Stevie claps his palm across my mouth . “Elmo, help me out, will you? Anyone hears you slandering tomatoes, there’s not an attorney in Australia that could get you out in one piece .” “Sorry, Stevie .” “Don’t worry so much. I’ve got this flipping thing in the bag, mate .” His confidence is comforting. He’s a take-no- prisoners type of guy. Many people watch the proceedings. There are TV cameras around me. When we entered, the press were asking questions and Stevie acted like we were in the movies, pushing mics down and saying, “No comment, love.” He’s a class act . The crowd wears clothes I don’t understand. I don’t know where to buy these clothes. They are so young and know all the good places . Ms. Harrison declares her injury. She tells the court I’m dreadful and Judge listens with his mouth open and the ear in his mouth aimed at her. DERISION | 109 She finishes, and it’s Stevie’s turn. He gives me a wink . “This is where I strike like a cobra, Elmo.” Stevie’s got me excited. I’m almost pissing myself . “Your Honor,” he says, “Elmo Brenner isn’t a bad citizen at all. In fact, and very much to the contrary, I suggest the court dismiss all the idle rhetoric we’ve heard from prosecution this morning and view him as a bloody good bloke instead .” I pat his shoulder . “That sounded smart as fuck, Stevie .” He puts two thumbs in the air . Judge speaks . “Ms. Harrison, the court has just heard you state with striding confidence Mr. Brenner here is not decent .” “Yes, Your Honor .” “Well, I don’t like raising petty objections, but I’ve now heard his attorney, Mr. Stephen Watt, in whom I hold much professional confidence, explain his client is, in polarity to your claim, actually a good man. How do you account for the discrepancy ?” Jemima’s lawyer speaks for her . “Your Honor, pernickety points aside, Mr. Brenner met my client on duty as mere security personnel in a shabby uniform, which I’m told had a spaghetti stain on it. His unasked-for theories lowered her confidence and damaged her personal identity. All of this only twelve hours before a competition she’d trained years for .” 110 | GENE HEAD “Goodness gracious,” says Judge. “Ms. Harrison, how did you perform in competition the day after your encounter with Mr. Brenner ?” “In spite, I competed and won, Your Honor .” The crowd claps . “That’s quite an achievement, Ms. Harrison. Perhaps I’ve made a terrible oversight of your courage. We’re all proud of you .” “Thank you, Judge .” “Mr. Brenner, I’m disappointed a man in the twenty-first century sees fit in deconstructing our hard-won values. Ms. Harrison is a visitor here, representing the great mother country of our commonwealth. She’s showed fair play and goodwill. Frankly, it’s disconcerting this event might be her lasting memory of our culture .” “You know what they say, Judge,” says Stevie. “You can lead a whore to culture, but you can’t make her think .” “Mr. Watt !” “Sorry, Judge. I get worked up when I see my client’s ship sinking .” “Well, let’s hear from your client, then. What say you, Elmo ?” “Judge, this darn thing’s higgledy-piggledy,” I say. “Asking Jemima Harrison to see reason is like asking a bone out of one’s body. I couldn’t walk past without thinking of the usual ladies competing against a weightlifting champ with arms as thick as my neck .” Ms. Harrison sobs. Her lawyer uses a DERISION | 111 handkerchief to catch a tear running down her Adam’s apple . The crowd boos me . “Mr. Brenner, I remind you of your manners in my court .” Stevie steps up to bat . “Judge, my client may speak in an unusual vernacular for a court of law, but I double stamp, pinkie swear, he’s a splendid fellow with a big heart. Anyone could enjoy a beer with Elmo. Matter of fact, we shared one just minutes before proceedings today, and I have to say, it sounds like he’s doing a bang-up job out there in the security field. There should be more men like him .” I can’t hide my smile because I’ve got the best legal counsel in Australia . Ms. Harrison’s attorney speaks again . “Mr. Brenner’s impudence toward Jemima Harrison’s sensitivity mocked her request to be referred to as a woman. Men like him advocate the cruel dispute that her female identity melts in the face of the dick, slapping her skirt as she strolls among us. I urge and remind you, Judge, her request is a human right. Elmo showed fearful transphobia in a professional capacity. Pin him to the wall, won’t you ?” “That’s absurd, Your Honor. I’ve got no contest against Ms. Harrison frolicking about, dick-in- knickers. I don’t care six ways to Sunday what she calls herself .” “Mind your manners, Mr. Brenner .” “Judge, I’m pleading here. I don’t protest 112 | GENE HEAD transsexuality in my community. Why, only weeks ago, I was cupping my boss’s balls to help her sit .” The crowd inhales so loudly the very building comes to life and pulls air in through its windows like a lung. The girl with blue hair is laughing and loves me . “What in the world do you mean, son?” Judge widens his mouth, giving his ear the best advantage . “My boss, Avery, is a woman who once was a man. It’s not for me to say, but the girl became uncomfortable. She’d tucked too hard. I was happy to shuffle her frank and beans around. I know about these things because I’m a man, too .” Judge slams his gavel . “Mr. Brenner, I will not sit through lewd descriptions of your fondling of any woman’s ball sack in my court .” “She’s fine with it, Judge! The entire team had a laugh .” “It’s quite inappropriate behavior between colleagues,” says Judge . “Avery’s no colleague. She’s my boss .” “You’ve engaged in sexual relations with your employer, Elmo ?” “Not at all, Judge. Flirtation might underscore some of our conversations, but that’s true for every woman I speak with. That said, I still wouldn’t bang Avery .” “I suppose it would be wrong to referee your nature to flirt,” says Judge. “But I must ask, why the stern distaste for this Avery woman ?” DERISION | 113 “I just like the usual ones, Judge. Women take me to the wires occasionally, but there’s something about their views I like. Lacking testicles might leave them certifiable. But God, I love them for it. I couldn’t survive without women—usual ones, I mean.” The crowd is screaming. Someone’s thrown a knife. The thing’s gone straight into my back. “Jesus! Will you look at this, Judge? There’s a darn knife between my shoulder blades now.” I’m pulling the knife out, and blood is squirting. “Look, it’s a steak knife, Judge .” “Who on earth threw a steak knife at Mr. Brenner?” he asks, and hits his gavel . A guard wrestles a young lady. She’s brandishing another steak knife. Other people have steak knives. There are two guards. Three. She’s headlocked . I still understand her shrieks . “Bigot! Your boss deserves love like any woman .” The attacker is out of the room, and the main entrance works on its hinges . I’m holding a knife in a courtroom like Exhibit A in a murder trial . Norm MacDonald lampoons me on Saturday Night Live . A blood river ruins my only shirt without spaghetti on it . “Bailiff, what’s going on? I can’t see a damn thing without eyes,” says Judge . “He’s got blood pissing out of his back, Your Honor .” 114 | GENE HEAD “Bailiff, help Mr. Brenner, please .” The guard swaps me the knife for a white towel. He bags and tags it. I feel pain and have trouble reaching the hole in my back . “Can you proceed, Elmo, or do you require a medic ?” “I’ve lived through worse, Your Honor .” The gavel bangs again. The room calms down and sits . “Mr. Brenner, you’re on thin ice. If you continue such bovine and candidly stupid sentiments about trans women before this crowd, I can’t guarantee your safety .” “What do you mean, Judge ?” “Look around. Public officials, social media celebrities, commercial and independent press, bloggers, armchair detectives. They’ve already stabbed you once. Do you really want to stir shit here ?” “I’m not a homophobe, Your Honor .” “Transphobe, Elmo, not homophobe .” “Technically, Your Honor,” says a member of the crowd, “shouldn’t we clarify if Avery is transexual at all, before we go on ?” “Yes, Judge, Avery might be gender-fluid and simply fond of skirts .” “And why assume she’d want Elmo’s gigglestick in her?” asks a news camera -man . “Avery could be pansexual,” says a woman . “What the bloody hell’s that ?” “You know, Judge,” says Stevie. “It’s when you like kissing folk because you think they’re DERISION | 115 bonzer, not because you like their bits .” “How do you have sex without the bits ?” “I think it’s okay to use the bits,” says a tomato. “You just can’t say you like the bits, otherwise you’re… bisexual ?” “What do you mean, ‘Bi’? Can’t you count past two ?” Judge bangs the gavel . “Order! For simplicity, two genders will need to do for this forum. Elmo’s neurotypical views are clearly biphobic .” “A perfect micro label, Judge, but do you mean pan—phobic?” asks Jemima’s attorney . “Yes. I think .” “I’d go a step further and say Elmo means to indorse bi erasure .” Heads turn at me like dolls in horror films . “What do I call her then, Judge ?” “I’m not really sure, Elmo,” he says. “ ‘It’ might suffice for now .” “That’s just rude !” “Yes,” says a reporter. “I rather enjoyed imagining Avery as a woman. I had this entire picture in my mind of her .” “Of what ?” “Of a woman, Your Honor .” “What does a woman look like?” says a bearded man from the stands. “I could be a woman. Matter of fact… I am .” Judge pats his wig and rubs circles on his tummy at the same time. “Look what I can do .” “For goodness’ sake,” says Stevie. “I’ve got a 116 | GENE HEAD meeting with a black Elvis impersonator in an hour. Can we get on with it ?” “Elvis Presley white .” “The fella stole every good move he had from Africans .” “What a bastard !” “All right,” says Judge. “Avery’s a lady from here on .” “This isn’t about Avery, it’s all about me!” says Jemima . “Enough,” I say. “I’ve endorsed Avery and Jemima’s identification as women. I only claim my liberty to be prejudiced over who I become aroused by, and chicks with dicks ain’t my cup of tea, mate .” “That’s not what I’ve been reading in the papers lately, Elmo .” “Granted, my Lord,” says Stevie. “Elmo’s recent memetic fame may seem backasswards to his claim not to fancy cock, but he assures me his girlfriend is a genuine homogametic XX chromo- female. She’s affectionately known to him as Honey Tits, on account of a bosom that could cause a small sensation in any man.” The tomatoes tighten their fists. “My client’s heterosexual girlfriend was just wearing a strapped-on rubber wingwang called John Thomas, and though he admits to enjoying a wee roll-in-the-hay with her, it was less about acting bent than it was about an innocent stroll on the wild side, with someone he loves .” “Homophobe!” DERISION | 117 “I thought I was a transphobe ?” “Chauvinist!” Another steak knife shoots by, missing my ear by a coat of paint. It taps across the floor and rests at the foot of Judge’s desk . “Oooh, nearly!” says a tomato, snapping its fingers . “Guards! Won’t you please control the public ?”. The crowd turns upon the bailiffs who battle for control. Another knife spins. A direct hit into my chest plate. I tug it, but teeth catch on bone. There’s more blood . “My good shirt !” Judge chucks the gavel away . “You see, Elmo? I warned of this, but you stubborn hooligans never listen. None of you care about the proprieties or mind who you offend. Think it’s all a big laugh, don’t you? Now we’re in a flaming steak knife fight .” “I’m very sorry, Judge .” Another knife flies into my shoulder, then one in my buttocks, one in a meaty cheekbone, another in the opposite cheek. A blade goes in my neck, just missing the jugular. A man stabs my torso while running past, and a guard tackles him . I slip on blood. The bailiff’s saturated towel is no help. A scream from the rafters reveals ten protestors hijacking the event, declaring their morality. I can’t read their banner, but it’s got large exclamation marks on it. There’s hate and certitude on their faces. They shake boxes of steak knives 118 | GENE HEAD open from the highest level. The utensils fall onto me as arrows protect castles. Judge is under his desk. I see Stevie pull his briefcase through a closing door as he escapes. I’m filled with so many knives, I cousin porcupines. People are even stabbing guards. I think many guards wish I didn’t come today. They call more in to help . I’m pulling at knives with both hands, squirting and gooey . A skinny, pale man climbs onto my back. He’s telling me he gives to charity with an arm around my throat. The other arm hacks into my chest with a steak knife . “Where are all these steak knives coming from?” I ask . We fall in red puddles on the polished floor. I pinch a pressure point in his neck, and he sleeps. A guard’s boot clods on my nose as he goes by. I pull up with a grasp on a gold rail. My feet slip in figure eights .

Deer on frozen pond , BigDog, army robot , They couldn’t knock you over BigDog, Machine gun down our absurdity . DERISION | 119

A GUARD BATTLES toward a window with an intellectual swinging from his back. She fans business cards and says she’s a writer. The girl throws a laptop PC like a tomahawk and slices at the bailiff’s forehead and pulls the tuft of his widow’s peak. We can see the guy’s skull bone underneath . There are some without knives here who video the catastrophe on their phones, instead of calling for help with those phones. The guard, now scalped, has thrown the girl through plate glass onto the ground outside. I snow-ski across the blood to see through the window . A high wind coats my Carrie White prom dress in pollen . A clown dipped in tar—rolled in feathers. Drowsy from wounds. More holes in me than a bordello . “For heaven’s sake, Judge. I look like a shark attack victim !” “It’s not ‘shark attack’ anymore, Elmo. It’s a negative encounter with a shark .” “Oh, Jesus Christ !” 2 5 ABSOLUTION

ercedes reads the document. I watch from M my hospital bed. A court official hand- delivered it . “It’s about your trial .” “What does it say ?” “See for yourself .” She hands me the note with a smile .

FORTHXE HILL MAGISTRATES’ COURT

BETWEEN:

JEMIMA HARRISON, ADVOCATED BY HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN IN RIGHT OF AUSTRALIA -AND - ELMO MARSHALL BRENNER DERISION | 121 MOTION FOR MISTRIAL BASED ON ERRONEOUS THIRD-PARTY ACTIONS INCLUDING VIOLENCE CAUSING GRIEVOUS BODILY HARM • LIMITING THE DEFENDANT ELMO BRENNER’S CLOSING ARGUMENT

“T HEY DROPPED THE CHARGES , H ONEY T ITS .” “I know .” My nurse enters . “How long until I can leave, Tommy ?” “Only a week, Elmo,” he says . 2 6 O R D E R

y wounds don’t hurt anymore, and I have M restored stamina. I move around HT’s unit unaided for the first time in a month. When I answer a knocking door, a uniformed postmaster hands me an envelope. He’s tired and filmed in pollen . “How are you doing, fella ?” “Same shit, different day,” he says . I close the door and pick at a wax seal with a single Roman numeral imprint. Once removed, the sleeve opens. Someone has used a typewriter to thump the message deep into deckle-edged correspondence card .

MR. E. BRENNER. REPORT TO HEADQUARTERS 10 A.M. TOMORROW HUNTER, GREEN & GREENWAY SECURITY 2 7 ESSENTIAL CLOTH CAP

lone guard patrols the lobby. He directs me A into the vacuum cylinder. After it blows the pollen from my clothes, I take the lift to the top floor, and my access card gets me in. It’s hollow in the interview room. They’ve removed the plinth block and taken away the furniture and bookshelves and ripped up the felt carpet. My voice bounces off concrete while I search for someone. It’s cold. I need to stand in a pile of pollen to shut a window. Staring over the chimney spouts, I sigh for a beer with Kamahl . 124 | GENE HEAD Have one for the road, mate . You were the tan without the burn .

A LAPTOP IS open on a humble table in the center of the room. Harry, Rebecca, and Avery glow from the screen—six squares short of a Brady Bunch title. Harry’s in drag with lipstick and big tits and glitter on his face. He has long eyelashes today, but not normally. I think his eye shadow looks sexy and reminds me of ladies from magazines I liked as a young boy. Rebecca is in her bathrobe and has put no effort into her appearance. She may have rolled out of bed minutes ago. Avery sits on her mattress in a robe with a computer on her lap. She’s just had a shower and wrapped a towel around her wet hair. Avery is shooing a cat away. The cat is being annoying. It steps on her keyboard, and her feed cuts out. Now her square is black . “Greetings, Elmo,” says Rebecca . “Hold on, we’ve lost Avery,” says Harry . Avery returns to her square . “Sorry, folks. Cat problems. Hello, Elmo .” “Hello. Why are you on a computer ?” “The pollen, Elmo. It’s a public hazard. We’ll work from home until city council can clear it .” “Should I work from home, too ?” They’re laughing at me . “Goodness, no. How in the world will we make DERISION | 125 it through this if people like yourself don’t brave the pollen ?” “Yes, Elmo, imagine this town without mailmen and street sweepers or the little Filipino chap who delivers my groceries? You’re essential, son. Society’s counting on you .” I’m excited to hear how important I am . “Will you pay me more than minimum wage now? For braving the pollen and keeping order ?” “Good lord, Elmo,” says Rebecca. “You’re quite the comedian today .” They’re laughing again . I am not laughing . “A thankless job, but an honest living,” says Harry . “I didn’t know you were a lady, Harry .” “Oh, I’m not, Elmo. I just like skipping about in stockings sometimes .” “You’re pretty good at doing lady makeup .” “He’s far from a lady when he’s in drag,” says Avery . I cradle the laptop to show them the empty room . “Looks like tradesmen have gutted the headquarters,” I say . “Trades people, Elmo .” “Sorry, were there chick ones ?” “No, Elmo, it was really dangerous work, but you still have to say the ‘people’ bit now .” “Okay, sorry .” Harry’s stuffing tissue paper into his bra . “You’ll need to try harder than that, Harry. My 126 | GENE HEAD girlfriend has tits twice as big. She even makes breast milk .” “Human milk , Elmo,” says Avery . “Pardon?” “We’re fast moving here, Elmo,” says Rebecca. “Breastfeeding is chestfeeding now. Try to keep up, will you ?” “I’m sorry, everyone .” “We don’t support cisgender bias in this company .” “I understand,” I say . “Or any group benefiting from inequality .” “I understand .” “It may help if you submit to it,” says Harry. “Just become a smug, condescending arsehole, right away .” “I thought it was bad to be one of those, Harry .” “Oh no, son, it’s quite the rage .” “Yes, it feels fabulous,” says Rebecca . “So, I still work here then? Even after my court hearing and the memes ?” “Of course, son. By the way, how are your wounds healing ?” “Doc says I beat Caesar’s record .” “They stabbed you over twenty-three times ?” “No,” I say. “Twenty-three exactly. I beat him because I lived to tell you about it .” “Good show, old chap! We shall call you Caesar Salad from here out .” “That doesn’t offend you, does it, Elmo ?” “It beats Big-Boy or Shit-for- Brains .” DERISION | 127 “Don’t forget Piss-in-Boots , Elmo .” “Yes, of course .” “The reason we’ve summoned you is we have a very special duty available,” says Avery. “What are your thoughts on abortion ?” “I think it’s anybody’s right,” I say . “Splendid, Elmo. We need a guard to watch the door on a family planning clinic .” “A rather easy role,” says Rebecca. “A meet- and-greet, really. Just don’t fall asleep on the job .” “I’m your man. Goodbye, everyone .” “Good day, Elmo .” 2 8 PITCHFORK

t is day and bright. I’m at my post at the front I of Toovey’s Family Planning Clinic . Jacob’s the man in charge, and he’s figuring me out. It’s hard not to laugh at him with a hat of pollen building upon his crown and collecting on his eyebrows . “You don’t mind what goes on in there, Elmo ?” “I’m certain on the matter, Jacob .” “Good, because you know it isn’t always a good thing some folks are born .” “Now hold on a minute, Jacob. That’s not my reasoning at all. It’s a woman’s right. That’s where it begins and ends .” DERISION | 129 “Oh, okay, Elmo. You’re one of those ‘take the high road’ types .” “No, I’m not .” “You’re telling me you’ve never met a guy and wondered if he was born that stupid or if he took lessons ?” I relax, and we laugh . “All right, some folks can be a trial,” I say, “but if they make it past the first trimester, I’m happy to share Forthxe Hill with them .” “Plain fact, Elmo—this job’s not for everyone. We need a guy who can tell a dead-baby joke or two .” “You’re still not hearing me, Jacob. That’s not my view on the thing .” “It’s all right, Elmo. Morticians make jokes about the stiffs while they dress ’em up for the big day. Same thing with this job. Stops you going crazy. Helps you sleep at night .” “That makes no sense. I don’t consider a fetus a baby. That’s the darn point .” “Come on, don’t force me to call Rebecca and report you’re not Toovey’s material .” “Jacob, I need the work, mate. Just get off my back about this .” “Then tell one,” he says. “For shits and giggles —what’s the best you’ve got ?” There is a lot of pollen in the air. I worry it disturbs my judgement . “All right, fine .” “Attaboy! Got any I haven’t heard ?” 130 | GENE HEAD “My buddy Kamahl knew a good one. What’s the difference between a truckload of bowling balls and a truckload of dead babies ?” Jacob’s jumping. He hasn’t heard it . “Christ, tell me, tell me !” “You can’t unload the bowling balls with a pitchfork .” “Oh, what a crackerjack. Again !” “Okay, what’s the difference between Sir Isaac Newton and the baby I just stabbed ?” “Glory, Elmo, you’re killing me here. Tell me !” “Newton died a virgin .” “You’ve set me free, son. Year on end, I’ve searched for a worthy guard. All jerks. No sense of humor .” I’m getting the creeps from Jacob. I don’t like the guy . “Jacob, I want to restate. I don’t consider a fetus a baby. You hear me ?” “Okay, okay, I get you .” “I’m not so sure you do. Our little jokes just now don’t suit this arena. To be honest—and it’s one of the few times I’d say it, but it’s inappropriate—the venue puts the jokes out of context. I regret telling them .” “Oh, I see. You’re one of those .” “One of what ?” “Sensitive types. You’re always getting your panties in a twist .” “I’m not sensitive, but I could have shown more integrity here this morning .” DERISION | 131 “Spare me the bullshit, Elmo.” Jacob scribbles in a pad—pockets it. “All right, down to business. The gig is simple. Stand here. Be nice. Can you smile ?” I smile for him . “Jesus,” he says. “All right, don’t smile, but give directions and be polite .” “Why do you need security to do this ?” “Look—it’s mainly a Yank thing, with all of them Evangelicals over there, but occasionally, we’ll get a little fellow with a sawed-off shotty and a King James in his shirt stroll through wanting to kill some of our doctors .” “Shouldn’t I have a gun in that case ?” “I said occasionally . It doesn’t actually happen. Once or twice—before—way back. The scene’s quiet now. Nobody cares anymore .” “You’re not installing much confidence in me, Jacob .” He’s losing patience. I’m being disagreeable on my first day . I’ve become Mr. Turnip . “Elmo, you’ve got a face only a mother could love, broad shoulders, and big balls. Any God Squad members show up spouting dogma like sewage from storm drains, remain calm. Trust me, none of them have fired a gun in their lives. Punch their face. Disarm ‘em. You need me to hold your hand for this ?” “All right, I understand .” “Here are the keys. Unlock in ten when the 132 | GENE HEAD nurse arrives. Lights out at five PM. Close the door behind you .” Jacob’s getting in his car when a woman screams from the footpath . “Murderers!” She’s walking toward me . “Hey, Jacob .” “What?” “What if it’s a chick like this, without a gun? Still punch her ?” “The Lord giveth, and only the Lord can taketh away,” she says. “If babies had guns, you couldn’t abort them .” “What?” “Never mind this one, Elmo, she’s here every day. She’s proof evolution has a reverse gear .” “You protect irresponsible sluts,” she says . “How about rape victims, lady ?” “If it’s real rape, the body shuts itself down and won’t become pregnant .” I’m struggling not to punch her . “Sweetheart, if I threw alphabet soup on the ground, it’d spell something smarter than what you just said .” She’s crying. A man in a woolen herringbone suit runs to her and gives her a cuddle . “You’ll be hearing from me,” says the man. He helps her away . “Who’s that guy ?” “A lawyer,” says Jacob . “A lawyer ?” DERISION | 133 “More like an ambulance chaser, except for emotionally hurt victims, not actually hurt ones .” “Does that work ?” “He makes a good living off this place .” “Shit. Will I be in court again ?” “Probably. Got to go. Have a good day .” I log the incident in a notebook . 2 9 MONKEY WAGON

buy cigarettes and Alka Seltzer at the milk bar. I On Main Street, Forthxe Hill locals close shopfronts and walk toward City Hall. I can hear the sound which calls them. It’s laughter . Whoever he is, he’s rattling windows a block away . The noise is contagious and I’m pulled with a slanted smile and queue with my public at a rectangular blackness on the building . “Come see, one and all,” says a kid waving us in with his baker boy hat. People are chatty and curious as we enter, and I’m directed to a men’s fitting room. I peek in a doorway to the female chamber and glimpse skin on a pretty arse. A DERISION | 135 cloakroom attendant hands me woolen daywear. The jacket and waistcoat fit over my beer belly, and I look like a gentleman. The women join us in a candlelit auditorium. They look decent in black high-waisted gowns of embroidered muslin. If funeral bells ring next, it will suit our garments . “Come now, sit down,” says an usher. “Don’t delay.” We can hear the laughing, much louder in here. The gallery seats are wooden and tier nine rows high before a stage, and one hundred people spill into the wings, some forced to stand. An obstetrician in top hat stands at a lectern . “Find your seats, please,” says the doctor . A curtained box is displayed, and light punches a man’s silhouette into the fabric. The specimen’s laughter is coming from within and is fitful and earnest and terrific . I’ve caught his fever and I’m sniggering . No other person laughs . The obstetrician thumps the stub of his cane on the stage . Our murmuring stops . “Your attention, if you will ?” He’s handsome and well mannered and his assistant climbs into a white coat. At a gesture from the doc, the assistant draws the curtain. We gasp at a skinny man, stripped to knee-length breeches, held to his hips with string. Someone has bound his limbs to a pine chair and his ribs and collar bones poke outward. His torso trembles from unmanageable giggling. The doctor strolls closer and points his cane and speaks . 136 | GENE HEAD “The subject’s name is Abner Price. He is thirty-eight years old. You will kindly note he is —” We jump in our seats when a jolly eruption from Abner Price interrupts the lecture. Abner’s stomach folds in half as he cackles. The doctor calms down our whispers with a nod . “Please. Give Mr. Price a moment .” Price’s outburst returns to a mild but persistent tittering . “In my forty years of medicine, I’ve not seen a patient cursed by a more insidious affliction,” he says, and jabs his cane to Abner’s face. “Crows feet by his eyes. Cheeks, red as nettle rash .” Price shivers like a hamster as he entertains some private jest. There’s another explosion of giggles. His lips betray crooked teeth and brilliant pink gums. Abner’s eyes clench in torture. There are whispers around me . “Mr. Price suffers endless quivering,” says Doc. “He cannot explain his derangement, nor understand it .” Another nod from the doctor and his assistant slaps Price, whose laughter only expands. Women touch gloved hands to their lips and gentlemen twist moustaches and trade theories. Doc removes his hat and leans at spitting distance to the patient . “Mr. Price, can you explain what you’re laughing at for us ?” Abner struggles to compose, but soon his chuckling is only a simper, then a smirk . DERISION | 137 “What amuses you so, Mr. Price? Explain to me, please .” Price gains some motor control and speaks in a tedious whimper in the candlelight. His words sputter through pursed lips . “It’s all just so…funny,” says Abner . “What is, Mr. Price? What causes this alarm in you ?” The crowd’s faces glint, noiseless and perplexed, and begging . “All of this. You. Them. You’re all… funny .” “Why, Abner? Why am I funny ?” “I don’t quite know,” he says. “I suppose I find you extraordinarily silly .” “You think I’m silly, Mr. Price ?” “Not only you, sir. The clowns too. You’re all delightful.” Price cracks up again, squinting into the auditorium. “Does nobody understand ?” He catches the doc’s clueless expression and is struck at once by the zany giggles again. Price tries speaking when entropy intervenes, and he can only manage a Bronx cheer from a raspberry kiss . “The man’s a banana,” says a woman . “Daft as a brush .” “If he were among us, he’d be rolling in the aisles .” “Won’t you help him to a hospital, doctor ?” “No need,” says the physician. “I intend to help him in your good company .” I study Abner’s impossible grin, which shakes his face to ruin. He makes me happy, but I laugh 138 | GENE HEAD up my sleeve, afraid to be next in the curtained box . I have a feeling Kamahl would have loved this guy . The assistant pushes a wheeled bar cart to the center. Doc takes a vial, wipes the tinfoil with alcohol and pricks it to fill a needle . “Fortunately for Mr. Price, modern medicine can help. The diagnostic agent in this serum will inoculate him and cure the irregularity .” They peel Abner’s breeches back and Doc jabs him in the groin. Women howl as he administers the medicine . It amazes us when Abner’s giggling becomes quieter . He’s smiling, but the spasms are gentle . His teeth recede behind a drooping mouth. The joyous laughing, only a submissive vibration, too weak to buzz past his trachea . “Good lord, he’s rehabilitated,” says a man . “Sedated, for the time being,” says the doctor . Abner is motionless, but the doc has it wrong. Price doesn’t look narcotized to me—maybe the opposite. His hazel orbs widen and they’re not vacant at all. I think Price sees us perfectly well. Like we’d only removed a vale . “How do you feel now, Mr. Price ?” Abner’s breathing warps from zero to a hundred . “He’s hyperventilating!” says a woman . Where before I could not see an ill man, I’m certain I now see a lunatic. He yelps like burping DERISION | 139 hiccups through a megaphone. The crowd jerks. The doctor’s yelling at him . “Can you understand me, Mr Price? Do you know where you are ?” There’s another gruff from Abner and he fights the ropes. Doc retreats a few steps. The wooden seats squeak as people prepare to run. I think Price is firmly in our reality, and flabbergasted, and he hurls into throes, barking and squawking. There’s a hell-scream. Women hide under men’s arms . I am horrified. Price’s shrieks will haunt me . “It’s awful,” they say . “What has he become, doctor ?” Abner breaks an armrest in his seizure, and caterwauls . “It’s disgusting!” says a woman fainting into another’s arms amidst a stampede . “Get out, everyone ,” says Doc . Tailcoats are trampled and corsets burst as people elbow to be first away. The assistant cannot restrain Price, now two arms free. The panicking herd moves down a corridor and I’m whisked into the current and spat through the exit by a charge. We’re in a heap on the street in the sun. We stand and dust off . “What in blazers happened, doctor ?” “I’ve no earthly idea,” he says, straightening his hat . Price blows through the exit like he’s fleeing demons. He knocks some of us down again and scuttles through traffic to a gas station, pulling a pump from a man’s Kingswood . 140 | GENE HEAD I scream across the street . “Stop, Price, don’t do it .” He dumps a beer pitcher of fuel on himself . We watch the screaming man fumble with wax matches and strike one up. Station customers dive while he napalm-trails to the pavement only to croak before a woman and child. She covers her son’s eyes. But the lad has seen him and will remember . A man watches next to me . “What do you make of it, Elmo ?” “He only made it thirty feet before he collapsed,” I say . The man peels off his phoney moustache . “Yes, you surely don’t get far on a liter of petrol these days .” I walk away on the street and two men slow their car to drive next to me. One speaks from his window . “Hey buddy .” “Yes?” I ask . “You’re shit !” 3 0 WINNER WINNER CHICKEN DINNER

y lucky double sided coin spins until I slap M it to the table and admire a young and hot Queen Elizabeth from 1971. She appears on each surface. A memento of the high jinks Kamahl and I played on barflies years ago. His handsome kisser won’t leave my mind, and I think of Abner Price and his new position in the stars. Mercedes makes her order with our waiter. She chooses the Caesar salad, winking in homage to my nickname . “And for you, sir ?” “Buffalo wings, please .” “Excellent choice. And for the lady with the mole ?” 142 | GENE HEAD “Pardon?” “I’m sorry, you just have a rather large mole on your face. I was being descriptive .” The waiter is right. Mercedes’s friend Penelope has a huge brown mole on the tip of her nose. It is impossible to ignore, and I think it’s terrible . “I prefer not to draw attention to my mole .” “I’m very sorry,” says the waiter. “Will you be eating tonight ?” “Of course .” “Then will you please give me your order ?” “Of course, I was just instructing you not to refer to me as a Mole Face .” “I beg pardon, Ms., I take menu orders. I’m in no habit of taking instruction on how I address you .” “How extremely rude,” says Penelope . “Will you please pick a meal for us to cook or will you be eating shit-on-a-stick tonight ?” Mercedes and I are embarrassed and searching our laps. She warned me Penny can be a handful, but I wasn’t expecting trouble so early into dinner . “I’m offended by your service .” “Well, I’m offended by your mole .” “Whatever do you mean ?” “I had an unpleasant experience with a schoolteacher. Had a bloody great mole on his willy. Don’t you know you can have that thing removed ?” “Of course .” “Yet you parade in here almost poking my eye out with it .” DERISION | 143 “There ought to be laws to stop people like you spouting anything you please,” says Penny . “Shit-on-a-stick it is, then .” The guy has upset Penny. She removes a decorative handkerchief from her neck and he walks to the kitchen. I see Mr. Turnip at a table with Death and Mr. Carrot. Turnip slurps gazpacho. The others aren’t eating. Pollen falls in the windows like snow in New York. It warms the dark night in gold spheres around Forthxe Hill’s street lamps. Mr. Carrot snorts up a goober and spits in Turnip’s soup. Both Death and Mr. Carrot lean closer to intimidate him. Turnip shakes and lifts the spoon and eats the goober, bullied and needing a friend . “I don’t even feel like eating shit tonight,” says Penny. “How dare he insist on that .” “It could be worse, Penny,” I say. “It could be just shit with no stick to hold it on .” “I suppose so. Well, Mercedes, I’m meeting Elmo, it seems .” “Yes, Penn, this is he .” “Tell me, Elmo, how did you land Mercedes? She’s a hard woman to win .” “I Me-Too-ed her .” Mercedes is laughing . “You what?” Penny asks . “I harassed her in the workplace. Turns out she didn’t mind .” “Penny, he’s being rude. It wasn’t as wicked as he makes it sound .” 144 | GENE HEAD “My daughter Tracy is fond of hashtags. She’s very progressive .” “That’s marvellous,” says Mercedes . “To clarify, Penny, I don’t support sexism. I gauged Mercedes to be the right chick to say something like that to. You know ?” “No, I don’t, Elmo,” says Penny. “Oh, here she is. Hello, Tracy .” A girl in her twenties joins us . “Elmo, this is Penny’s daughter, Tracy .” “Heya, Tracy .” Tracy tips her hat at me with a casual bravado, but it is not a hat. It’s a solid form bowl -cut . I hear a slap and see Mr. Carrot abusing Mr. Turnip. He’s just hit him again . I know I should help . But I do not . Our waiter returns to serve our new party member. He produces a menu . “I already know what I’ll have,” she says. “The vegan burger, please .” “Very good , Ms .” “Are your chips beer- battered ?” “Yes , Ms .” “I don’t want them beer-battered. I don’t tolerate gluten .” “Of course, Ms.” He tucks the menu under an arm. “May I ask, Ms., why is there an implied similitude between vegans and non-gluten products ?” “Of course—if I can ask, why do you address DERISION | 145 me Ms. without asking for my preferred pronouns ?” “Of course, you may ask , Ms .” “Then, why ?” “I simply don’t give a shit, Ms.” He crosses his hands on white linen wrapped around his waist. “Will there be anything else, Ms .?” “Well, it’s ‘they’ or ‘them,’ if you’d like to use those for the rest of the night .” “No worries, them, and might I comment, I love the way your haircut makes your head look like a knob .” Penny interrupts . “While you’re here, waiter, I want a different order. I don’t want shit for dinner .” “Well, you’re getting shit, lady. They’ve already started cooking it .” The waiter leaves and Tracy removes her scarf. Words on her T-shirt stretch across her tits . OFF WITH T HEIR S WINGING DICKS ! “Why are you late?” asks Penny . “I was at an equality rally .” “Oh, that’s nice,” says Mercedes . “We’re closing the gender pay gap and smashing down the patriarchy .” “It’s about time,” says Penny . “You’ll need to excuse my ignorance, Tracy, but I work among many women. We all get paid the same .” “I’m sorry, who are you again ?” “Elmo. We just met .” “You look similar to the security guard ousted 146 | GENE HEAD for transphobia. You know, the one that’s intimidated by anal love but bit-the-pillow with his girlfriend days before his trial ?” Mercedes jumps to my rescue . “Oh, Elmo isn’t transphobic. He’s just dim, uses all the wrong words .” “You called a black, British, trans woman Scary Spice .” “I was making a point. I never called her that .” “Okay, Elmo, what’s your answer to pay gap statistics ?” “Look, maybe this isn’t dinner table conversation .” Tracy is laughing . “The white guy at the head of the table wants to choose our dinner conversation .” “I’m just afraid of embarrassing you, love .” “Excuse me ?” “Labour signed the Equal Pay Act in the sixties. If you’ve got underpaid lady mates, a lawsuit would be a home run for them .” “This pig-ignorance is why equality rallies are important .” “Are you always this upset, Tracy? Look at what you have instead of lack. I think the world’s a bit light on gratitude these days .” Tracy breaks her neck, laughing . “Dripping in privilege. He tells me to be grateful .” “Just how many oppressive factors should we list, Tracy? Gender, race, fat, big-nosed, bald? What if I complained no one writes back to me on DERISION | 147 dating websites because I’ve got a pencil dick? And if you’re the arbiter here, tell me how that T- shirt moves us nearer to equality ?” “Are you a capitalist, too, Elmo ?” “Tracy, maybe after dinner,” says Mercedes . “If Tracy has something to say, your boyfriend shouldn’t tyrannize her .” “Yes, I’m a flaming capitalist. I live in Australia. Capitalism isn’t your problem. The equal pay story is drummed up hysteria .” “Of course, hysteria. The ailment exclusive to trouble-making women. Shall I visit the doctor for a pelvic rub ?” I hear another slap . I should be saving Turnip . The waiter has our meals. We each get plates, but he hands Penelope her feces on a popsicle stick. It’s black . “My shit’s burned .” “There’s nothing wrong with it .” “Is that a joke? This poop is charred. It’s practically smoking .” The guy pinches it from her, lifts the bread knife from Mercedes’ placemat, and scrapes charcoal dust from the turd like he’s saving burned toast. He hands it back, a natural brown . “Thank you .” “You’re welcome. Enjoy your meals .” Mercedes tosses her salad. Tracy places a flower on her plate and photographs her burger. Mercedes’s endless salad tossing draws attention . 148 | GENE HEAD “Why do you toss your salad so much?” Tracy asks . “I’m checking for meat. I ask them to hold the chicken, but some chefs forget .” “Is that vegan Parmesan ?” “No, it’s real. I’m a vegetarian .” I’m eating my chicken wings with buffalo sauce around my mouth like a drunk hooker applying lipstick. Penny nibbles her piece of shit . “Mercedes has been a vegetarian since she was, what, honey?” I ask . “About twelve,” she says. “I just really like animals .” “I tell you—this bloody woman wouldn’t let me squash a bug. She makes me chase the roaches around to scoop up and set free outside .” Mercedes blushes . “So, you’re a hypocrite?” asks Tracy . “Pardon?” “You don’t eat meat, but you’re happy to exploit animals for everything else ?” Penny swallows some turd, then speaks fumes . “Tracy’s been vegan for two years. Wrote an article correlating capitalist exploitation with animal exploitation. Won a journalism award .” Mercedes’s blush has left her cheeks. I’ve never seen my girlfriend shrink like she’s doing. Such a strong, self-made woman. Kind and soft underneath. Too soft. Tracy’s punching her into the ropes . I’m spitting meat juice while I talk . “I bloody love these wings .” DERISION | 149 “You do know,” asks Tracy, “they separated the cow from its calf to make that cheese you stink of ?” My fingers twist grease across my shirt . “They never give you enough napkins for these wings. Cooked to perfection, though. I might get a second bowl .” “I don’t know much about that,” says Mercedes. “I just want to help .” “You proclaim to care, but look away from pigs in cages. The standard you walk by is the standard you accept .” “How’s your vegan burger, Tracy?” I ask . “Tasty as meat—and wouldn’t you know it, ethical too ?” “Tracy, can you take a guess how old Mercedes is ?” “Elmo, stop .” “It’s okay, HT. Come on, for fun. How old is she ?” “I wouldn’t guess such a thing. I’m not that rude .” “Different question. What year do you think it was when she was twelve ?” “I’m sure I don’t know .” “It was nineteen eighty- five .” “Fantastic. Your point ?” “Ever seen a restaurant menu from the eighties, love? If you didn’t eat meat back then, you had a choice of lettuce, shredded carrot, or what your mother’s eating on that stick.” Mercedes looks proud. She should be proud. “In a political climate 150 | GENE HEAD that didn’t give two craps about the meat trade, this darling woman, at twelve-years-old, made a choice to look silly eating cabbage for decades until it became acceptable practice. You, Tracy, are different .” Penny wipes poop from her chin . Tracy thinks I’m a dinosaur . “How so?” she asks . “You’re fickle, Tracy. A trend chaser, with pop views .” The girl cackles . “My values are a trend. Okay. Anything else ?” “Look at a graph. This thing’s perfect for folk without strong identities. You’d be weird if you weren’t vegan today, and you’ve got a ton of food alternatives. You also just bought that burger with money from the economy you don’t take part in .” “Stop attacking my daughter .” “Elmo, please,” says Mercedes . “I’m dripping in bird carcass, here, pulled of its feathers and hot-boxed, and your main concern is feeling superior to the vegetarian at the table, right after shitting on capitalism and uploading a foodie pic with a smartphone .” “Elmo, stop !” Tracy’s already leaving our table, and Penny’s jaw has dropped. I want her to close it. The rancid smell of shit on her teeth is hard to stomach. The waiter routinely checks our experience . “How was dinner tonight, folks? Pretty fucking crap ?” 3 1 GOOFBALLS

ercedes and I totter the mile-long walk M home from the restaurant. We kick through deep pollen fall . “I was standing up for you, Honey Tits .” “You did well not to call her names .” “I was hoping you’d notice. Her penis hair was opening up some easy jabs, but I didn’t take one .” She sips wine from a space-bag that I’m clutching and trips into my arms. She’s giggling in my hug. Two teenaged men are passing us. They’re drunk and silly as wheels and goofing off. 152 | GENE HEAD One looks at me over Mercedes’s shoulder and gestures at her . “Be sure to roll that one in flour,” he says. “It’ll help you find the wet spot .” I feel her embarrassment when she stiffens, and I launch at him. My palm is around his throat and his back is against Forthxe Hill Savings and Loan. I’m very strong and he cannot get away. His friend squeals for me to stop. The boy’s eyes cry in his skull and he’s going purple . “Why did you say that? Right in front of her?” I ask. He can’t speak past my squeeze, so I loosen my hand. He’s sobbing . “I thought it would make Jerry laugh,” he says . “Who’s Jerry ?” “I am,” says the friend . “Why do you want Jerry to laugh at such a hurtful thing ?” “I thought it would be good to be funny .” He’s just a pimple faced boy. He’s me, two decades ago, screaming from his pupils at the gorilla strangling him. Eyes that whisper every witless thing I’ve said in my years. I’ve forgotten none of it, and I’m ashamed, and so is this kid. Young and wrong—about everything. Twenty dozen hearts we’ve splattered; just swinging the bat out there . I want to hug him to death . “Elmo, let go of the boy,” says Mercedes . I release my grip, and he runs, coughing, with Jerry slapping his back . DERISION | 153 “I’m sorry Honey Tits. I felt your pain like electricity .” “He’s a child, Elmo. He didn’t mean it .” The boy disappears . “I don’t know if I just did that kid more harm than good,” I say . 3 2 WRECKING BALL

hen we arrive home, our space-bag is W empty. Mercedes dusts pollen from my shoulders. I’m drunk and searching for the keyhole . Mercedes claws and begs for kisses in the doorway. We’re interrupted when Death steps onto the lawn . “Leave,” I say. “I told you, arrange an appointment .” He doesn’t argue and saunters toward the night with confidence in his stride . “That darn reaper just won’t quit , HT .” “Live in the moment, Elmo. Don’t worry too much about him .” “My friend Kamahl would say that .” “Who’s Kamahl ?” “A king among men. He’d tell me about this pub with a sign behind the bar that said: All Drinks Free, Tomorrow .” “How did they manage that?” she asks . DERISION | 155 “The pun was you go in the next day demanding your free beer and the bartender just points at the darn sign again. Kamahl was kind of spiritual. ‘ There’s no such thing as tomorrow ’ and all that .” “Can I meet him ?” “Of course .” “Where does he live ?” I reflect and dip my brows . “You know, I can’t rightly say, HT. It’s been so long since we’ve spoken .” Mercedes notices Peanut’s school bag on the couch . “She’s supposed to be at her friend’s house tonight .” “Maybe she came here first,” I say . I enter Peanut’s bedroom. She lies on her face on the carpet. She’s crying. Her blonde wig is near her but not on her . “What is wrong, Peanut ?” Peanut rolls over. Somebody has smashed her shell open between her legs. She is so damaged I can see her lower seed wobbling inside her legume. I have trouble looking at Peanut . “It’s my fault, Elmo, for wearing the wig .” 3 3 DOCTORS

he police have not caught Peanut’s attacker. T There’s too much pollen in the air to hunt him in a crowd . “I gave chase,” says an officer, “but I sprained both ankles in the yellow blizzard .” “Why didn’t you shoot him, officer?” I ask . “You can’t just shoot people, Elmo. Even if they’re really bad .” The doctor examines Peanut in a room while I comfort Mercedes in the corridor. She cries, and so do I. Doc exits the room . “Is she okay, doctor ?” “The man has raped your daughter. We’ve cleaned her shell of semen. We hope this will help .” We’re sorry and angry, and we are with Peanut now. The surgeon has glued fragments of coconut husk and mud crab shell together like a jigsaw, imitating her usual shape, but it’s disfigured her . “It wasn’t the wig, Peanut,” I say . 3 4 NURSES

wo weeks pass and we return to the hospital. T Police are busy with pollen problems and have arrested no one for Peanut’s rape. I watch from a seat while Mercedes speaks with a team of nurses. A cleaner sweeps pollen into piles in the corridor. Particles have floated through doors and it’s an ongoing problem for the guy. Mercedes looks upset. Nurses wave me over and leave us to speak . “What did they say, Mercedes ?” “Peanut’s pregnant .” 3 5 DEJECTION

eanut stays in her room, and we have a door- P open policy. Mercedes is very sad and sits with me on the couch that has changed color so slowly I’ve only just noticed . “The couch is gray now, Mercedes .” “What color was it before ?” “Pink. Or green, or something .” Peanut walks in. Mercedes and I are eager to hear her voice. We hope she twirls and tells a joke . “I don’t want to be called Peanut anymore .” “Of course, Porsha. Anything you want .” “I’m unhappy,” she says . “We’re sorry, Porsha. We’ll make it better .” I almost crack her shell again when I hug her. I want to steal her pain into me, but she doesn’t notice because that hippie shit doesn’t work. Mercedes hugs her, too. Porsha is tormented by things that she shouldn’t have to think about . Nor any person . 3 6 B O O T

orsha has an appointment with Toovey’s P Clinic. I’m on shift when Mercedes pulls the Monte Carlo into the lot. I’m good at the job now because I’ve done it several times. Mercedes is helping Porsha from the car. It hurts her to walk. My uniform installs obvious confidence in Porsha when she glances at me standing at the entrance . Porsha’s dainty feet totter after her mum. They pass me and go into the waiting room. A nurse 160 | GENE HEAD leads them behind a metal door, and I cannot see them now . My constant brooming of the clinic entrance helps me fritter the day away. Pollen fall builds to heaps if I glance away long enough. I have not swept the carpark. Three cars are wheels deep in yellow powder. Mercedes’s footprints are the last to fade. Porsha’s light step has disappeared under the fall already . I’ve watched it blanket their tracks long enough. The entry needs another dust -off . A car pulls in . One male driver with no pregnant daughter, wife, or mistress . He cracks the door and swivels to dangle his feet, then lashes squash rackets to the soles of his trainers with parcel twine. The man clods across the pollen with makeshift snowshoes. I’m entranced by the ingenuity. He’s close now and I see a rifle in his arms . The man leans his gun on the wall next to me. He squats and unties the rackets . “Good morning, Elmo .” “Good morning, sir,” I say. “Nifty idea, those shoes .” “Got the idea from an American movie. They use tennis rackets over there .” “What did you bring the rifle for, sir ?” “It’s no rifle, it’s a shotgun. Don’t you know about this stuff ?” “Not really .” “Well—me neither,” he says. “This is my first DERISION | 161 go at shooting people. I’m here to stop the slaughter of babies .” “I think you’ve seen one too many American movies, sir .” “Au contraire, my good man. The Lord has soldiers in all nations .” “I’m aware religion is popular,” I say. “I once had a Puerto Rican landlady throw a bucket over my head and baptise me in Spanish .” The man lets out a huff . “If she’s preaching in Spanish, she should save it for her own country,” he says. “We do things right here. If English was good enough for Jesus, it’s good enough for me .” “Did Jesus have a shotgun, sir ?” “This place is a real meat grinder, Elmo. I’m putting an end to it .” “I hate bursting a man’s bubble, sir, but that’s the kind of nonsense I’m employed to stop .” He grabs the gun, and I panic . “Are you a hero ?” “No, sir. I’m very scared .” “Then off you trot, Elmo. Get out of the way .” I duck through the entrance and jam it closed on him. The receptionists look shocked. I break their stares by yelling . “Gunman. Exit through the back .” There’s a blast and a pellet spread that shatters the glass door. The guy steps inside, and shards crunch beneath him . He aims at me while the phone ladies run . 162 | GENE HEAD He’s Michael Douglas, Falling Down , minus the stripy tie . No briefcase either . No style and not easy to relate to . “I don’t want to harm you, Elmo. I only want the doctor .” I roll behind the steel door into a hallway that leads to the theater. I lock it on him. There’s another blast and pellets make goosebumps on my side of the metal . He loads more ammo . A nurse peeks from the OR . “What’s this commotion ?” “A man. He’s upset with the doctor .” She lets me in. Porsha lies on a table, and a gynecologist places her fetus in a kidney tray. It is small and pink, with no nervous system and not a baby. Mercedes holds Porsha’s hand . “Is there another way out of this room ?” “I’m afraid that’s the only door .” “Where does that air-conditioning vent go ?” “Perhaps to the air conditioner on the back of the clinic .” There are more gunshots. I undo screws with my double sided coin. The grate is off, and I help Porsha from the table. The shots sound closer. The gunman has made it past the first door and kicks the entrance to our room . “Through the vent, everybody. Crawl as far as you can .” “I’m scared, Elmo .” “Do not worry, Porsha .” DERISION | 163 The doctor is a good man. He allows Porsha, Mercedes, and the nurse ahead of his own safety . “In you go, Doc,” I say, and he follows them down the tunnel . The assailant takes to shoulder-barging. I’m not sure what to do next. I can hear a squeaky voice chattering to me and I scan the room. On the bench is the kidney tray . The fetus is standing in it and looking at me. It looks mad . “You will pay, Elmo,” it says. “My mother murdered me. You abet those who helped. They’ve escaped, but you won’t .” “Be quiet, fetus !” “Let me through,” says the gunman . “You’re going to get it now, Big Boy,” says the fetus. It jumps from the bench and skitters across the vinyl floor . “Stop. Don’t let him in. He has a gun .” It climbs an extension cord that droops by the doorway with pathetic arms yet manages as high as the handle . “Stop!” The fetus jungle-vines to the lock and turns it before dropping to the ground with a soft pat. The gunman steps in. I’m an ice sculpture in his crosshairs . “Good Lord, Elmo, where did they go ?” “To safety, from you. A madman .” “Shoot him,” says the fetus. “ Shoot him .” The man scoops Porsha’s fetus in his palms, allowing me time to escape. I run down the hall 164 | GENE HEAD and find Mercedes and Porsha and staff in the car park. The police are here, and news teams and protestors. A strong wind whisks away the pollen and we stand, centre of the asphalt, surrounded by a high fence . The gunman follows me out and is carelessly swinging his 12-gauge left and right. Porsha’s fetus perches on his shoulder like a parakeet . “Drop the weapon !” He drops the gun but reveals a hand grenade and the police shoot him down . The fetus hops from the man’s body and chases the hand grenade, which is rolling away. It lifts the explosive above its head like ants do with food, then runs at me . “Everybody, back .” Police shuffle the crowd, but the fence traps them in a corner . I have to run in circles because I’m trying to keep the fetus away from them . The fetus is fast . “Jesus, Elmo, look out. The little bastard’s catching you .” It’s on my heels. I’m not quick enough. It’s just pulled the safety pin out . “I’ll take you to hell,” says the fetus . Out of options, I face the little pink bomber . I raise a boot . “Jesus Christ, Elmo !” “Oh, the humanity .” I mush the fetus and it goops to my sole like DERISION | 165 bubble-gum off pavement. The active grenade is rolling away again . “Watch out for the hand grenade, Elmo !” People curl like snails . With two steps forward, I kick the bomb like a conversion over goal posts. It explodes behind the fence, harming no one . “You’ve saved the day, Elmo,” says a policeman. “What will you do now ?” “I will log the incident,” I say, and take the notebook from my shirt pocket . 3 7 SUPERANNUATED-MAN

hurch goers and secular groups overcrowd C the courthouse. There are officials and townsfolk, too. Many groups wear matching T- shirts and sloganeer about honor. A media swarm hides smiles with microphones and pander to baser instincts . My rescue of the good doctor has so far gone unmentioned . This crowd demand John Proctor’s signature . “I’ve given you my soul; leave me my name .” DERISION | 167 I didn’t even get to fuck Abigail . My cage is small, and I cannot stand in here, so I crouch. People clack at it with sticks and poke me through the bars. Stevie hands me a banana. The community thinks my twelve-peer jury is unnecessary, certain of its own judgement . Teenagers tap phone screens and share photos, flashing peace signs in Lennon’s spectacles . The people come together to fight a common cause . They taunt me for social reward . A priest shakes hands with Death’s knuckles . Every vegetable has shown up, even the yams . They stop my groovy blue-haired friend at the entrance. They find a joint in her bra, and she looks pretty high . The lousy judge sits, lofty. No face or opinion. No man at all . “Your Honor,” says Stevie, “my client saved forty people from a fatal grenade blast yesterday. We should shine the man’s shoes .” Judge lifts a fistful of paper leaves . “That’s poppycock, Steven, and you know it. I’m holding a salad of hand-written letters, outraged over an image of Elmo stomping a talking fetus to death on national television .” “Yes, Judge, but the little beggars are ten-a- penny in that place, and my client acted in self- defense .” “There’s no two ways about it. Your client is a living scandal. I’m consulting the Oracle .” 168 | GENE HEAD “Think of the children,” says the Oracle from the stands . “We needn’t take revenge, but leave room for God’s wrath,” says another Oracle . “Off with his dick!” say more Oracles . “Jesus, how many bloody Oracles are there, Judge ?” “There’s no telling, Elmo. All are equal here. They each get a say .” “Gollychomper,” someone says, possibly an Oracle . “Yes, bring it back !” “Gollychomper! Gollychomper !” “Very well,” says Judge. “It will be as it was with that little Serendib fellow we had running around town last year .” “His name was Kamahl !” I say . “Yes, that was it,” says Judge, thumbing a filing Rolodex. He pulls a card and slides fingertips over raised dots of Braille. “Here it is. Hemantha Kamahl Randiv . Found guilty of placing a bean in a cake at the county fair and proclaiming our Mexican friend Ronaldo the winner for finding it.” The crowd shrieks, and Judge continues. “It goes on to say, while under probation, he emphatically stated a fossil ammonite was a million years old, offending Mrs. Glump, our Sunday School teacher .” “And so he should have,” I say . People strike my cage again . “Elmo’s even worse. He has no sensibility .” “I’m afraid they’re right, Mr. Brenner,” says DERISION | 169 Judge. “The Australian penalty for your behavior is simple.” The horde hop in anticipation as he continues. “By punishment of the Gollychomper only are you to be cured from certain destruction, thus protecting society from contamination. Such is the sentence I pass onto you .” There’s dancing among the public . “Your Honor, please, I was doing my job .” “Let city council construct the Gollychomper on the cricket field, forthwith. I release you, Elmo, from your zoo cage for ninety days, whereupon your public will escort you for a whipping. Offended parties may then chase you with stick and flame until they restore order.” He slams the gavel. “Don’t forget to clean out that banana peel .” 3 8 IF IT’S TO BE, IT’S UP T O M E

orsha watches television with her ice cream P bowl. She’s allowed as much TV and ice cream as she wants, and takes full advantage of the deal and it’s something we love about her . Mercedes has baked macaroni and cheese for me. It’s salty and delicious . “Not too much, Elmo,” says Mercedes. “Mac ’n cheese is a sometimes food .” We took Cookie Monster to court . Hamburglar filed unemployment . A man from Nantucket kicked his toe and blamed the coffee table that got in the way . “Dear Lord, what are you watching, Porsha ?” DERISION | 171 “It’s about feminism, Mum .” A woman of great measurement speaks about CRFI . “What’s CRFI?” I ask . “A Cake Related Fatphobia Incident,” she says. “Ladies shame each other for eating cake because men make them competitive .” “Porsha, ” says Mercedes. “I never want to hear things like that from you .” “But, Mum .” “No buts, young lady. That woman’s a big fatty who won’t take responsibility .” “You’re not allowed to say stuff like that, Mum .” The woman on the program has a title, and she’s an expert with a degree. Mercedes is getting angrier as Porsha glues herself to the screen . Mr. Carrot steps through a wall. A land of floating clocks spins behind him, and he whispers an idea to me. He says it’s a solution . I can’t contain my enthusiasm as I mull it over . “Yes,” he says, leaning on my shoulder. “Do it, Elmo. Do it .” “Mercedes.” “Yes, darling ?” “I know how to fix all this crap we’re in .” “You gotta hear this, Mercedes,” says Mr. Carrot . “No, Elmo. Don’t listen to that carrot .” I’m so excited. I’m sitting straight . “I’m telling you, HT, it’s a doozy. It’ll repair everything .” 172 | GENE HEAD Mr. Carrot rubs his hands and grins . I look at the fatso on the telly . Mercedes looks , too . “Elmo, I don’t like where this is going .” “I’m doing it, love .” “Elmo, please .” Mr. Carrot cuts in. “Shut up, bitch !” “Keep out of this, Carrot! Elmo’s got a lot on his plate. He doesn’t need you whispering garbage in his ear .” I’m shovelling mac ’n cheese in my face. It blasts from my mouth when I speak . “I’m joining the fat acceptance movement, baby .” “No! I like you the way you are .” “If you really loved me, Mercedes, you’d understand opinions like that are born in systematic oppression .” “Oh, Jesus, Elmo .” I light a cigarette, and drink my beer, and sprinkle salt on a second helping . “I’ve got three months, honey. I’m going to be big. Circus big. These fuckers won’t know what to do .” “Elmo, think of the health risks. Heart attacks, blood clots. You could lose a limb. You could go blind !” “I don’t subscribe to your arbitrary form of acceptable, HT .” “Yeah, shut up, bitch,” says Mr. Carrot . “You shut up, you stupid Carrot! I’m trying to help him .” DERISION | 173 “Just admit it, Mercedes. You’re fatphobic .” “You’re a flipping knobhead, Elmo .” “Mum, fatphobia’s real. You’re supporting patriarchy .” “I said I don’t want to hear it, Porsha! Stop talking nonsense .” “Don’t listen to her, Porsha. Your mum’s afraid of progression .” Mercedes washes her plate. I’ve licked my bowl clean, and I’m reaching into all the Prime Ministers’ heads and eating choc-chip Scotch Fingers, Delta Creams, Raspberry Ripples, and Butternut Snaps. I’ve found half a litre of custard in the fridge . “Must you drink from the carton, Elmo ?” “Is it really about the carton, Mercedes ?” “What?” “Are you sure it’s not more about your opinion over what I put in my body ?” She throws the dishrag on my head . “Clean the kitchen when you’re done stuffing your face .” 3 9 POUND • KILO • STONE

reakfast: B • 2 x bowl double-cheese macaroni • 20 x fried tater tots • 8 oz garlic aïoli sauce • Half box salt / swallow with water • Cigar • 1 x bowl buttered popcorn • 12 x tablespoons caster sugar / swallow with 3 pints full-body German lager

BRUNCH : • 1 x quart liquid pancake batter DERISION | 175 • 1 x roll uncooked, pre-made cookie dough • 12 x tablespoons caster sugar / swallow with 3 pints full-body German lager

LUNCH : • Half box caster sugar / swallow with 16 oz. melted butter • Cigar • 4 x pizza pocket • 1 x bottle sparkling Chardonnay • 10 oz carton sweetened cream

AFTERNOON TEA : • Beer • Cigarette • Nap

DINNER : • 1 x pint melted butter • 1 x 350-gram bag shredded cheese • 6-pack jam-injected warm doughnuts • 1 x cup strawberry milk • 1 x bowl loaded french fries – sour cream – liquid cheese • 400 grams bacon strips – maple syrup • Half box salt / swallow with water 176 | GENE HEAD • Beer • Cigar

I’ VE GAINED twenty-eight kilograms in five weeks . I’ve converted Mercedes’s garage into a meeting room and befriended a dozen obese disciples. We share stories and support from our lives within the Fatosphere . Our Fat Liberation Manifesto hangs on the clubhouse wall . 4 0 BIG MANBOOBS

eople stare while I eat at Forthxe Hill bakery. P When pollen collects on my lamington, I don’t brush it off. I have jam on my face from doughnuts and pollen sticks and my face is a sugar cookie . “You’re just terrible,” someone says . “Eat a salad, for goodness sake. You’ve got breasts, man .” Townspeople have subjected me to unthinkable prejudice over seventy-eight days . “It’s ‘diet culture’ that causes my eating problem. You must accept me .” “But you’re disgusting. We cannot look .” “You must look, and you must respect me .” “Do something respectful. Then we can respect you .” “I do not have to. The law says you must, anyway .” A policeman overhears and butts in . 178 | GENE HEAD “I’m afraid Elmo’s right. The law does stipulate we must be nice to him .” “Even when he’s so fat, officer ?” “Especially when he’s fat .” “Officer, how can we respect a person who just ate gum from the sidewalk for extra calories ?” “You ate gum from the ground, sir ?” “I believe pre-chewed gum easier to digest,” I say . “That’s absurd .” “That’s my belief. You must respect my belief .” The officer sighs and looks at the public again . “I’m afraid he’s right,” he says . “Where will it end?” they ask . “Elmo’s due for his whipping in less than a fortnight. Just put up with him for twelve more days. You can burn him after that .” I am so large my ankles hurt while I leave. I demand a wheeled seat walker, and a councilwoman presents one for me . “Here you are, Elmo. Courtesy of City Hall .” I feel off balance and I’m tilting fast . I’m falling . I’m lying in a storm drain . “Help me up .” The woman is too weak and calls for assistance. Seven men clutch my fat and pull me up. I waddle a half block before needing to rest. I cannot sit in the walker . “Ms.” “Yes?” DERISION | 179 “This walker seat is too small .” “It’s the biggest one, Elmo .” People are making videos. Some support my cause—some don’t . “You’re a public health risk .” “That’s propaganda. Healthy at any size !” “Think of the children .” “Thank you,” I say, and my proponents smile . 4 1 BALLOON

ercedes hasn’t touched me in months. My M penis is impossible to see. I think it may have been big, but I can’t remember. Washing has become difficult. When I lift fat to sponge under, it slips from my soapy hands. The judge scheduled my punishment for tomorrow, and I pencilled it on our kitchen calendar. Porsha has been melancholy most days, and this has worried Mercedes more than my morbid goal . I’m lying on the living room rug because I DERISION | 181 couldn’t make it to the bedroom . “How come you’re lying on the carpet?” asks Porsha . “I’m too fat .” “Yeah, you’re pretty fat, Elmo .” “Yes.” “I bet you’d sink right to the bottom of a pool .” “Probably,” I say. “Tell you what, why don’t you see if you can jump over me .” “Okay, I’ll try .” “Stand over there for a run-up. You win five bucks if you make it .” Porsha points five toes at me and heels back and forth on the other foot. Her wounds have cured, and she can move without pain. She runs and vaults but doesn’t make it over and bounces off me like a jumping castle . “Oh, good try .” She sits up and laughs. It’s been so long since I’ve heard that merry sound . She climbs me like a hill and uses my belly for a trampoline . “Watch out, you don’t hit the ceiling fan, Porsha .” I hear the Monte Carlo pull in and Mercedes steps through the door, home from work. She drops her folders and wipes tears, watching Porsha bouncing . “Look, Mum. Elmo’s a bouncy ball .” “I see, Porsha .” They’ve both forgotten how bad things are for a moment. It’s our first family giggle in yonks . 4 2 M O B

he scales spike to 480 pounds. I wear an ice T hockey jersey as a Muumuu . Mighty Ducks win . I’m Emilio Estevez’s champion . “Elmo, they’re here,” says Mercedes, poking her nose through curtains. “Half of Forthxe Hill has occupied the street .” I join her at the window and take a peek . “Jesus, it looks like Woodstock out there .” There’s a knock and I open the door to the DERISION | 183 reaper who hands me a court order. News cameras record men yanking my arms . “Ready for your dirt-nap, lard- arse ?” They cannot pull me through our front door . “He’s too fat .” “Nice goin’, Big Boy !” “I don’t feel fit for punishment today,” I say . The police don’t ask permission . “Get the sledgehammers. Smash the wall .” “Don’t touch my home,” says Mercedes . It’s too late; they’re beating away bricks. The door becomes wider. They pull me out . “I demand a doctor,” I say. “You can’t proceed until I’m fit for transport .” “Elmo’s right,” says a group of ladies who stand between me and the officials . “What are you helping him for? Fatphobia’s a feminist issue .” “I’m in no condition for proceedings today. I demand a medical check .” “It’s his rightful request. If we move him to the school oval, it could be detrimental to his health .” “But we’re only taking him there to kill him .” “I’m entitled to a doctor .” The rabble grows larger as townsfolk crawl from the woodwork and join in. A helicopter lowers from the sky, lifting pollen from our yard. Yellow soot sticks to everyone. We circle as it touches down. Porsha has never seen a helicopter so close and is very interested. A doctor steps out of it with his Gladstone medical bag. He does not 184 | GENE HEAD open the bag, nor does he take out a stethoscope or any instrument . “Whatever have you called me here for, Elmo? I was having dinner .” “Doc, I’m not myself lately. I struggle to breathe, my ankles are numb, and my ticker skips beats. I tell you, something’s not right .” “Of course you’re ill, son .” “What do you mean, Doc ?” “You must be thirty stone. I’ve never seen an easier diagnosis. Your problem is obesity .” Two-hundred fatties squawk and throw stones at him . “Weight bias,” they say . “Riots, not diets .” “I demand another physician .” “What in the world do you expect another doctor to say ?” “I expect a full check-up. You’ve only glanced at me and made assumptions .” “Very well,” he says, pushing through the mob for the chopper . The media gleam while people scratch his face and tear his clothes. He hits them off and calls to the pilot . “Start the engine !” The doctor slides the door shut, cutting off protestors’ fingers. Their severed digits drop like Cincinnati Play-Doh. Others slap their palms on both sides of the helicopter and rock it . “No more bias! No more bias !” The blades speed up as the mob see-saw the DERISION | 185 machine until it turns turtle, and the angled whirling blades dice eight demonstrators into chunks. Their blood sprays our faces and coats the facade of our home. The chopper explodes, wiping out the doc and his pilot, and a six-wheeled military wagon rolls onto the grass. Soldiers fountain out like Trojans from a horse . “Mum, what’s happening ?” “Don’t be afraid, Porsha. Elmo will be okay .” A siege team swings batons . “Now, how come they get nightsticks?” I ask . Troopers drag protestors away. The police commissioner arrives and asks the reaper what all the fuss is about. Death explains, pointing a bone my way. Local militia tackle me. It’s a tough job for them to roll my girth along the road and they change shifts each thirty meters. A slight decline aids them, and they’re relieved to be going downward a hill . “Where are you rolling him?” asks Mercedes, walking beside me. A thousand heads bob behind her, following with television crews . “We’re rolling Elmo to the cricket oval .” “This is hurting me,” I say . “Sorry, Elmo. You are hard to move,” says a soldier . “Will you kill me ?” “Yes.” “May I have a last meal ?” “No.” “He deserves a meal !” “Police corruption !” 186 | GENE HEAD “You deny Elmo human rights !” “It hurts to be rolled,” I say. “You’ve given me wounds .” “There’s no time, Elmo. We must roll you .” I watch Mercedes and Peanut turn in Dutch angles like a grainy Hitchcock film while they walk near my head. The men flip me front to back like a rissole on a barbecue . They push me across the taupe stones and jade grass. The Gollychomper is large, and they’ve built it from pine and carefully weatherproofed the thing with varnish. Schoolboys march to a snare drum. They line behind bicycles ranked on the contraption’s side and perform leg stretches before jumping on the seats . “Is that it, HT? Is that the Gollychomper ?” “Yes,” says Mercedes. “It’s horrible. I wish you didn’t have to go into it .” We reach the machine . “Stand up,” says the Mayor of Forthxe Hill . “I can’t, I’m fat .” Bailiffs and soldiers lift me together. We shuffle up eight shallow steps to a platform where builders installed the stocks. I’m bent forward by the men who slap my wrists and neck into the brackets. My backside presses against the whipping bristles behind me . My arms are puffy with blubber and I don’t fit in the holes of the stocks . “He doesn’t fit, sir,” says a bailiff . “An outrage,” says the crowd . DERISION | 187 “Who built this? The Gollychomper should be equipped for people of size .” “And why are there stairs? This man has a disability. Where’s his ramp ?” “Bullshit! Fuck off,” says the mayor . “That’s right,” says the eyeless judge, feeling his way to the front. “The mayor doesn’t have to put up with this crap. This is all by Elmo’s design. He has intentionally gained weight to impede tonight’s proceedings .” The crowd wails . “Won’t somebody help me?” I ask . “They’re attacking poor Elmo .” The mayor attempts to keep order . “Shut up! Calm down .” “Assuming obesity is intentional weight gain roots in complex structures .” “It’s capitalism !” “Boooo,” says the crowd . The judge pounds his gavel on top of the stocks and calls for a hush . “Let me remind you, Elmo Brenner is nothing if he’s not trouble. He’s shown no remorse for hurting trans people’s feelings. He makes fun of spastics. Eats tomatoes with ham. This fat thing’s a stunt. We have a manipulative, calculating con man in our midst, possessing the skills to conceal his intentions. Elmo takes you for fools. If you believe this charade, let you be cursed !” Guards tape a barrier off and threaten the mob back . The sunlight dims . 188 | GENE HEAD I believe I’ve won. I’ll be watching telly on the couch in an hour. The Judge is still trying though . “If you’re not convinced, ask Elmo yourself .” The crowd shifts gaze to me. This wasn’t my prediction. I’m still arm locked by guards and Judge smiles . “You’ve got a big brain, son. But I’ll bet your ego’s bigger .” I call to my followers . “Don’t listen to the oppressor .” There’s a renewed curiosity in their silence. I’m losing them . “Tell them, Elmo,” says Judge. “What say you to being polite about religious belief ?” I tuck my head into a shoulder and soak sweat to my shirt . “I have no comment,” I say . “Do you see, Forthxe Hill? Elmo doth hide from us and cannot show his true self .” A murmur grows out there . “Tell them, Elmo. What’s your stance on the gender pay gap? Is it okay to man-spread on bus seats? How do you like frivolous legal payouts to fat people who can’t fit through restaurant doorways ?” People spot self-conceit blowing out of my eyes. A soundless beat demands answers. Judge grows cockier . “Do tell, El-mo. What say you, sir ?” Lambs are screaming . I want liver with fava beans and Chianti . “All right,” I say, and gaze into the motley DERISION | 189 pack; Mercedes and Porsha, police, superstitious clergy, bull dykes, senior citizens, the gorgeous, the ugly, those fresh from jail, those evading it, food addicts, sex addicts, the unshakable, the frail, short, tall, talented, hopeless, privileged and abused, the lost, the found, the saved and the damned. I think those deaf, dumb, and blind among us might have it better than anyone . A limp sigh is a struggle . “You want your precious answers ?” “Yessss,” Judge whispers . I hang my head and shrug . “I think religion is a well-intentioned waste of brains .” The crowd lurches forward . “Speak up, Elmo. They all want to hear .” I’m beat, anyhow, so I become loud . “I feel forced to be polite about idiocracy. I’ve even heard believers blame sodomy for this pollen thing we’re going through. The pay gap argument is a debunked knee jerk to a stats culture that failed us. I spread my legs on bus seats because my testicles hurt if I don’t, and it’s an attempt to appear virile and brave in my community when really, I’m just frightened stiff of you all .” “You’re a pig !” “I’ve been called worse by better. Who cares what my identity politics are, anyway? They’re as vain as anyone’s. Our only sure bet is if there’s a god above, he’s laughing so hard at all this he’s spitting popcorn .” “Scoundrel!” 190 | GENE HEAD “National socialist !” “Can you hear yourselves? I’m a Nazi now? You’re too young to be so angry. You’re scared. Confined to cubicles, paying student debt for fruitless degrees. Trading blame for instant validation. Not a soul here would commit a forty- year career building a skyscraper legacy .” “What are you saying, Elmo ?” “You’ll fast track uninspired brick boxes, then just bomb the surrounding city flat. A generation’s total understanding of achievement. Jesus , I can barely stand it anymore .” “Elmo, tell me it isn’t true,” says a rotund disciple. “What about our fat people club ?” It almost feels unfair to break it to her. I look at my feet and choke, and speak quietly again . “Eat some lean fish and go for a jog…you sorry excuse- maker .” 4 3 BRIEF • FAKE • TEMPORARY

“ hey think you're mentally ill, Elmo .” T “I know, Honey Tits. I’m sorry about all of this. About the disgrace I brought down on your home .” “Oh, Elmo,” says Porsha while she hugs me goodbye . “Goodbye, Porsha. I love you .” “You called the public fools,” says Mercedes. “You said their opinions were sordid. Their beliefs were a farce. They think you’re mad .” 192 | GENE HEAD “Honey Tits, when you rebut established thinking, the defect is in you, not the crowd .” Mercedes turns to the townies, who sharpen spearheads . “You’re nothing but a bunch of scaredy-cats,” she says . Police haul my beloved away in contempt and pull Porsha from our hug. They are not with me anymore. People dip their spears in tubs of petroleum and light the ends. Mr. Carrot steps to the podium by the guards who hold me and reads from a scroll . “Elmo Marshall Brenner, for your indifferent attitude toward the suffering of the kind people of Forthxe Hill, we, the public, consent to your death by spike and flame this lovely June evening. God take mercy on you .” There are cries of conquest, and I agree with the carrot—this evening before us is, as described… lovely . The flakes of pollen floating from evening clouds, warming the scene like an aging painting. The sun sets behind the oval, and I smell the citrus and watch the big O of a wormhole emerge against the sky. It turns like a candy machine . The reaper upends a jerrycan and slooshes my body in gasoline. The crowd parts for an eager member shoving to the front. It’s Mr. Turnip. He’s cocksure and driven by authentic cheers and he champions the movement by pegging his flaming javelin to my side . 4 4 KAMAHL’S RETURN

ummy bandage fire twirls around my head M and torso and thighs. I stagger and catch my foot, thumping unsteadily toward the abyss. Kamahl waves from inside the colorful rings. His brown skin sheens in twinkle stars and compliments the complete picture . “Come to hell, Elmo,” he says. “Better to reign in here than serve in heaven .” “I’m coming Kamahl. Hold that elevator !” The public wobbles in a heatwave. Their eight- second attention spans grow bored with me and they’re leaving already . I’m as confused as a dying Josef K. 194 | GENE HEAD The shame of it all to outlive me; but not for long . I’m today’s clickbait . Tomorrows replaced invention . My community, a cultural Siberia, dead in an epoch—voiceless in a decade—powerless in a head turn—in the fold of a flag—the drop of a pie . “Lord, I’m tired,” I say. “Their hatred disheartens me .” A crowd member laughs and a few still watch. I can’t meet Kamahl in the vortex because I’m weak and far away and fall on my charred and skinless knee bones, submerged in two feet of pollen. I roll to snuff flames, but it ignites like the driest sawdust. The man who taunts from the sidelines photographs me and proclaims his view . “Impostor ,” he says. “Elmo recants and stands for nothing .” The hat tip of a passing street sweeper acknowledges the man’s virtue .

END ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Leonie, for listening Brad, for reading

Crucial thanks also go to Nina & Chrissy, for your guidance

ABOUT THE WRITER

Gene Head writes transgressive fiction inspired by Brautigan, Hemingway, Kafka, Bukowski & Palahniuk .

“Be industrious. Read fiction. Kick doors to splinters. Don’t listen to me .” — GENE HEAD

ALSO BY GENE HEAD

Kill Switch Supercilious The Orchard

READ THEM ALL FREE www.Read-Free- Books.com