From
where he sat in the sprawling magnolia, the white patch of sand of Hermit's
Heart was indeed shaped like a heart. The vine laden shack on the edge of
the woods, where the old man they called Hermit lived for over thirty years,
looked as if it would soon be reclaimed by the pine scrub, honeysuckle and
thorn bush — as foreboding as the first time Casper Goody happened
upon it and poked his head through a broken window for a better look.
He had seen the rusted
springs of a bed, a small coal stove, a table and chair, and the mannequin.
It looked like a woman standing with her back to the wall and Casper jumped
in fright, cutting his head on a shard of glass. He ran bleeding all the
way to Doctor Taylor's house.
"He use'ta make believe
she was his wife," Toosey Taylor explained while her daddy worked —shaving
away a perfect square of Casper's fine white hair before closing the wound
with four stitches.
"Use'ta dress her
up and set her 'side him in 'is wagon . . . talk to 'er like she was real.
Ain't it so Daddy?"
The doctor wiped dried
blood from Casper's neck with a alcohol swab until it was as white as the
cotton. He pretended not to hear.
"Did'ja see 'is ghost?"
Toosey asked Casper, leaning close enough for him to smell Juicy Fruit chewing
gum on her breath. But he was too lost in her eyes to answer. They were
deep brown pools with long lashes and dark eyebrows that arched in expression
as she spoke. Everything seemed to amuse Toosey Taylor, and for a moment,
the boy, spellbound by her beauty and the wonder she found in all of life,
shared that optimism and joy.
"He still loves 'er,"
she continued. "At night, they dance together in Hermit's Heart."
The pretty girl paused,
looked directly into Casper's pale eyes, and whispered, "Do ya like ta dance
Daniel Goody?"
A
sudden breeze rushed in through the pines and the giant magnolia came alive.
Casper dangled within the limbs like a puppet. His legs were falling asleep
and he had to brace himself by reaching out to a limb that bobbed at eye
level before him to keep from slipping. This put him at a dizzying right
angle with the ground and gave him a bird's-eye view of the two strangers
below. The man and woman had been talking, laughing and kissing for nearly
an hour since stumbling upon his secret place. Now they lingered in the
shade without talking. The man removed his shirt and reached for yet a third
beer from the plaid cooler while the woman fidgeted with her first, occasionally
tilting her head to the side and laying the cool can against her neck.
She had dark eyes
— darker than Toosey's — a long narrow nose, and raven black hair
that fell straight to the middle of her back. She was strangely pretty and
spoke with an accent. The man was also dark, with black hair covering his
arms and chest. And though he was clean shaven, his face was shadowed with
a bluish beard. Casper decided they were Italian, though he had never met
an Italian and believed Italy to be somewhere in New Jersey.
The dull, familiar
sting was already returning to his shoulders, forehead and buttocks as blisters
formed on his crimson skin. He had come to Hermit's Heart every other day
for the last week, eating lunch in the shade of the tree until gathering
his courage. Not one for challenges, Casper would have preferred to curl
up in the cool grass, close his eyes, and imagine Toosey until he fell asleep
with the wonderful ache between his legs; dreaming of her hand upon his
newly browned shoulder, her face pressed into his neck, music spinning them
across the sand like the ghosts of lovers.
Instead, he had taken
off all his clothes, but for the blue flip-flops and prescription sunglasses,
and walked slowly within the circumference of the heart-shaped patch of
sand as the hot sun transformed his skin. He felt giddy with fear and anticipation,
aware of the price he would pay that evening when the fever rose and his
tender, inflamed skin kept him from sleep.
Daniel "Casper" Goody's
mission was to tan, to alter his fate, to change his life (if not improve
his better judgment). He intended to darken his Godforsaken skin until appearing
"normal," at any cost.
At night, he would
lie in bed shivering and curse Jesus for the blank slate of his condition,
for all that he was never given and in turn, lost. The following morning,
he would wake sick and on fire — accepting God's wrath — peeling
away his sacrificed skin to reveal new, pink skin, that in time, would appear
even whiter. Still, his faith prevailed.
His sister, Dessa,
disapproved. "Go ahead and burn your fat albino ass off for all I care!
It won't change what's inside, Daniel . . . and that's your problem."
Dessa's tiny eyes
were magnified, piercing behind the thick, black-rimmed glasses. Casper
soured within range of her arrogant logic.
It was true. He didn't
like himself inside any more than the chubby bleached boy he saw in the
mirror each morning. He wished he could be more like his sister. Dessa refused
to look at her own reflection at any length, or pose for photographs. She
often said, "Seein' is believin'. I keep a good idea of how I look right
up here . . ." and tapped a thick, chalk-white finger to her temple, adding,
"pretty as a picture."
Casper
shifted his weight on the smooth limb and watched an ant run up his bare
thigh and across the folds of his belly. He was thirsty and restless and
silently cursed himself for climbing to his lofty predicament. When the
Italians appeared — laughing and chasing one another along the faint
path that lead to the clearing — he had panicked and scrambled into
the tree.
Now the man below
was slurring his words and running his finger along the woman's honey colored
arm as she giggled and protested. But she never moved from his side and
soon they were caressing one another and his fingers were twisting at the
buttons of her dress. Casper remembered a movie he had seen with Toosey
at the Island Theater. They had snuck in the exit door and sat in the back
row. Burt Lancaster was rolling in the surf with a woman in a bathing suit
and Toosey whispered that they were "preparin' to make love." She squeezed
Casper's arm in the darkness.
"If they were just
getting ready," Casper thought to himself — trembling beneath Toosey's
touch — "what was all they been doin' up ta now?"
In the humid shade
beneath the magnolia, beneath the suffering albino, the man and woman kneeled
facing one another. Then, without speaking, as if some silent agreement
had been made, they began to undress. Casper studied the bronzed muscles
of the man's back and the black tattoo of a dragon draped over his shoulder.
Then he turned his
attention to the woman. Her sensual beauty took his breath away. When at
last she was fully unclothed, her breasts appeared larger, her nipples the
color and texture of walnuts. Casper stared at the mysterious darkness between
her legs.
They fell together
in the sparse grass. The woman kept her eyes closed tightly as if in pain
from the man lying on top of her — moving into her it seemed to Casper,
who precariously braced himself against the tree limb before him with one
hand and struggled to conceal his erection with the other. He held his breath
and his eyes grew moist with fear as the man fell hard against the woman,
as if trying to hurt her. She began to claw at his back, at the demon black
dragon, and moan. The boy was mixed with emotion. He began to tremble uncontrollably.
And as the woman cried out, "Oooh . . . God . . . oooh God!" and
opened her eyes, Casper lost his balance.
He would never forget
the harrowing howl that erupted from the woman. It was a terrible scream
followed by a guttural reply from the man that sounded like: "Ooh yeah
. . . baby . . . "
She pushed the man
from her and screamed again — covering her breasts with her forearms.
The Italian rolled over onto his back and stared straight up at the naked
albino swinging above him. And though Casper's small, pink erection pointed
directly toward the pathway to safety, the man yelped, jumped to his feet,
and ran blindly into the briar woods leaving the woman behind.
She laid paralyzed
with fear — trembling and unable to speak — as Casper thumped
to the ground, gathered his clothes from behind the tree, smiled sheepishly,
and scurried across the Heart.
At
the small wooden bridge crossing Eel Creek, Casper stopped to rest and consider
the incident with the strangers. He stared at his reflection in the brackish
water, looking deep into his own eyes as the images continued to flash beneath
him: the dark muscles tensing in the man's back and the woman's desperate
fingers kneading and scratching at the fierce dragon. He suddenly felt more
removed from the world than he had ever felt, as if he actually existed
in the inverted, false reality staring up at him from beneath the water
like the negative of a photograph.
He climbed onto the
railing feeling fearless and desperate and watched the amber current moving
beneath him. Then, as he had read about in books, something like his life
flashed before his eyes. He saw what he imagined to be his parents —
not Cooper and Myra Goody, but his real momma and daddy, who left a two
year-old girl and a pink, shriveled newborn on the steps of God's Own Church.
They were albinos, white and heavy, as he had always imagined they would
be — like Dessa and himself, though he wasn't certain they had to be
. . . medically speaking.
"They would abandon
their own children for being just like 'em?" He once replied to Dessa. They
were laying on their backs in the thick grass of their front yard sharing
a cigarette, waiting for falling stars.
"Bingo, Beluga-Butt!"
Dessa blew a smoke ring and they watched it rise, encircle Mars, and dissipate
in the still night.
Despite her rancor,
Casper loved his sister and knew there was a good possibility he was the
only one. She was the most unpleasant person he had ever known, still, his
affection for her was unwavering. He presumed that the only notable quality
possessed by Dessa Dee Goody — aside from her brutal common sense —
was brazen self-love; narcissism with an attitude.
Casper looked down
at his powdery face on the surface of the water and experienced a sudden,
rare void of emotion. It was calming, and he wondered if the norms (Dessa's
expression for all the people on Oysterton Island other than her brother
and herself. On particularly bleak days, she would refer to them as "coloreds.")
felt such complacency all of the time; confirming his suspicions that he
felt too much. The intensity of fear or despair or joy others endured,
seemed tolerable, petty, compared to the onslaught of emotions that racked
the sensitive boy; as if he were overexposed to feelings in much the same
way his delicate skin was affected by the sun.
Casper found peace
in this sudden apathetic view of himself in the creek water. He decided
he would simply step off the railing and drown himself right then and there.
A black eel slithered within his pale reflection. He closed his eyes and
leaned forward. And as he fell, he heard the words Toosey Taylor had breathed
into his ear just a week before.
It was on the Ferris
Wheel, illuminated within a spinning cocoon of lights, to the haunting pulse
of the calliope. The Gecko Traveling Circus was in town. Casper and Toosey
revolved high above the crowd, the dust, and the nauseating aroma of fried
oysters, popcorn, and diesel exhaust. Toosey suddenly smiled, leaned against
him and whispered, "I think I love you Daniel Goody." And, if that weren't
enough, when till they were brought to a swinging pause within plain sight
of half the town, she kissed him abruptly on the mouth.
No one, not even his
adopted parents, had ever uttered those cherished words or kissed him.
Certainly not his sister, standing barefoot and alone in the sawdust, eating
cotton candy and scowling up at the young couple.
"Beauty and the freak!"
she later snapped at Casper.
"You're just jealous,"
he countered.
"Go climb in the sack
with the Siamese Twins," she said, gesturing toward the exhibit that housed
the homely Peruvian sisters joined at the torso. Dessa talked loudly and
Casper was embarrassed, thankful Toosey had been pulled off to the side
by an irate Aunt for reprimanding.
Looking back on that
night, he realized that never told Toosey that he loved her too. He should
have — would have, perhaps; if certain that it wasn't just a temporary
uprooting of reality for the both of them; that Toosey wouldn't come to
her senses before any rise occurred in his self esteem.
And now, suspended
in the cool water — holding his breath and moving within the amber
current like a manatee — Casper knew he had lost Toosey for good. The
Italians would surely wake Sheriff Rudy from his afternoon nap with the
story of a naked albino swinging in the trees and . . . He felt his heart
and body sink.
After
climbing up the opposite bank of the creek, Casper retrieved his sunglasses
and flip-flops and walked off toward home. A pickup truck loaded with teenagers
returning from the beach slowed and erupted in a chorus of "CASPER -
THE HORNY GHOST!" He smiled weakly and waved. It had become the popular
heckling since the Gecko left town, and would surely stick like glue when
he was revealed as a Peeping Thom.
The truck disappeared
around the bend and Casper continued on his way; occasionally lifting the
wet tee-shirt from his blistering skin; remembering the hellish Circus and
Toosey's heavenly words. How frightened he had been. Not by the harrowing
side shows, but by the tender words and affection bestowed upon him by the
pretty doctor's daughter in the yellow dress. For the first time in his
life, there was something he was afraid of losing; something to live for.
Still, there had been
something strangely familiar and intriguing about the grotesque carnival.
He remembered the painted marquees of Buster the Crab Boy, the salacious
midget, Minnie Pickles, the Peruvians, Batima Swort the Fat Lady, and Tuck
The Geek. He had spent a small fortune to see them all and felt a kinship.
Now the possibility
entered his mind that he belonged with these people; that when Toosey left
him — which was now inevitable — the circus might provide a painless,
if loveless life. And it would merely require the strength to surrender
his foolish dream of being normal.
"That's why they call'em
dreams," Dessa once told him.
The
sad, deformed twins were laying face to face on a bed in the hot trailer.
They shared the same torso and one pair of legs beneath a brightly colored
dress covered in beads. Dessa dragged Casper and Toosey into the dark, musty
exhibit and laughed cruelly — elbowing her brother in the ribs and
pointing.
At their notice, the
twins sat up together as if on a pivot and stared at the odd white children
behind the glass. They nodded their heads in unison and Casper felt an overwhelming
sense of empathy that stopped short of the sad-eyed duo and rested upon
he and Dessa's reflections on the glass. He futilely fought to hold back
the tears and prayed the catching breaths of Toosey at his side did not
hold the same meaning.
"What're-ya lookin'
at . . . ya geeks?" Dessa's smile had diminished. Her words broke the silence
with an anger that hung transparently on the glass between them. The twins
simultaneously turned their faces away as if overcome by either Dessa's
shocking appearance or rage. Toosey dropped Casper's hand and ran from the
exhibit. It was the last time he had seen her.
I
won't go back tomorrow, Casper thought as he continued home. Storm clouds
were gathering on the horizon. It would never be the same again, now that
the ghost had been seen in Hermit's Heart.
He envisioned the
lonely, mad hermit, spinning in the sand with the facade of lost love in
his arms and a haunting melody playing in his head. Casper imagined his
own eyes in the face of the hermit, as he had seen himself in the water;
and heard music, like a carnival; and saw the likeness of Toosey in the
mannequin.
His body burned and
ached. He reached to touch the tender spot on his shoulder where he had
decided he would have the tattoo man from the Gecko burn the black dragon.
And when that needle's damage had healed, perhaps another tattoo, and more
still, until the blank canvas of his skin was merely background, contrast
for the colors piercing and transforming his flesh — crimson red and
muscle bronze; brackish amber and deep magnolia green; the silver black
of Italian hair — colors as true as the twin's eyes, the lover's passion,
Toosey's words, and the albino heart.
©
2006 James Waine Carpenter
