22
There’s a dull ache the size of a horseshoe in Monkey’s chest. He watches it pulse, get stronger, feels around its contours then moves to the pain in his side, a tiny thumbtack, the sharp point sends a jolt down his leg. He winces and his attention moves to his face, a strange buzzing mask, his furrowed brow, his wrinkled cheeks, his eyelids.
“This is the face I make when I’m upset.”
He frowns. Feels his lips tighten. His monkey nose hairs suck in and blow out with each breath. He sticks his tongue out and laughs. Feels a warmth rush over him then watches it fade back to the thumbtack, the horseshoe. He tries to smile again but it’s like muscles stretching.
“This is the face I make when I’m happy.”
But it’s not. He looks more carefully.
“I want the outside to match the inside. When it doesn’t…it feels wrong.”
He watches his mask buzz and hum. Makes an exaggerated smile. Scales it down. Three-quarter. A half. An eighth. Stops, not sure if he’s smiling anymore. He grins with all his teeth then tries the subtlest smile he can manage.
“When is it not a smile?”
His cheek muscles tighten.
“Where does it disappear?”
He hears a whimper and his eyes pop open. Everything is black except a hole cut above him. A clear blue sky. A street light. Lil’ Darlene paws the glowing heart that swings softly over his head.
“Leave that alone!”
She barks. Two eyes, staring down.
“Stupid animal. Go find something to play with!”
His mind is racing. His body tightens. He tries to smile but it feels awful and the awfulness crashes over him. The horseshoe throbs. The thumbtack. He doesn’t remember to breathe. Doesn’t remember anything except his own words, repeated over and over.
“Beaten by a dog. A dumb little dog.”
Lil’ Darlene licks her paw. Her wet nose trying to breathe. She snorts. Sneezes. Starts at it again. There’s an intersection nearby and he can hear brakes squeal. A woman idling in her car. Muffled conversation. A laugh. The clicking of her turn signal. An airplane crosses over. The sound of crickets in a row of hedges. Lil’ Darlene laps at her paw. Breathes through her wet little nose. He stares at her intensely. Someone’s tied a pink bow in her hair that’s tilted to the side.
“It doesn’t know any better. But I still hate it.”
He takes a breath and starts over. Smiles the tiniest smile. A one-millionth of a smile. It feels strange. Like nothing he’s ever done before. Like his body is revolting against itself.
“This is forced.”
But he smiles in the face of his own thought. Feels the warmth in his chest and smiles. Feels himself get bored and smiles. Feels the warmth go away and continues to smile.
“Nothing can shake it. Nothing can touch it. Why?”
A thought slips in.
“Because I’m doing it for nothing.”
A name.
“The Impenetrable Smile.”
He’s now quite happy with himself. So happy he forgets what he’s doing. The smile spreads. His muscles tighten. Lil’ Darlene starts to bark and he loses it completely.
“Just when I think I have it…it shifts. I reach out and it’s learned the shape of my hand. The contours of my palm. The bend in my fingers. There’s no getting ahold of it so why do I keep trying?”
Monkey pulls himself up through the circle punched into the blackness and out of the gold-framed mirror lying next to a dumpster behind a Hobby Lobby. Coils the rope. Puts the heart back in his pouch then scrapes the black void into the hubcap making sure not to lose a drop. He picks up the mirror and there he is looking back at himself, arms spread wide holding the frame, the faux-stucco of the Hobby Lobby behind him. Someone’s poked a hole in it and the styrofoam balls are leaking onto the sidewalk. He leans the mirror against the dumpster, crouches down, watches one blow across the cement. It gets stuck in a pile of leaves then lifts into the air. Lands in the dumpster. He peers inside and sees,
a plastic sack of flowers
pedals and leaves
pulled out of the green tubes
googley eyes and Christmas wreaths
paper Halloween cats
arched backs crinkled under
drawing models with broken legs
torn bags of sequins and glitter
dried sharpies
wrinkled posterboard
a driftwood wolf
his nose broken
stuck to Kendra Deangelo’s vision board
ribbons and pins
hastily snipped fashion models
their raccoon eyes
look up
as the lid slams down
from above
Monkey leaps in the air. Sits on his summersault-cloud. Cars speed down streets that cut through fields spiderwebbing together into thick grey highways that bend and disappear toward the horizon. He leaps again and he’s standing in front of the Western Gates of Heaven. Gold-banded cudgel in one hand, Lil’ Darleen in the other. He peeks through the bars. No guards. No heavenly officials. The gates squeak as he pushes them open. He walks down the path to The Jade Pool, wanders into the courtyard. Wrought iron flowers trellis across connecting two concrete trees that mark the entrance to The Peach Orchard. He strolls through feeling the grass between his toes.
“Just the clouds and the trees and the insects buzzing.”
He picks a particularly ripe peach. Takes a bite. Watches an ant crawl across his hand. It stops, antennas wiggling, then scurries down his arm, his chest, his leg. He squats looking for it on the ground. Brushes aside the leaves. Stares at the little spot of dirt. Looks for signs of life. Movement. Anything. A dung beetle emerges from a tuft of grass pushing his ball of shit. His back legs struggle as he makes it over the hump. Goes back to rolling it along the uneven patch of the heavenly garden.
Monkey leans against the trunk. Looks up at the branches swaying above then to his half eaten peach. The juices drip down his monkey fingers. The dark pit exposed like a misshapen brain bleeds out into the soft flesh. Small flecks of white mold bloom from the center. He drops it in disgust and it rolls down the hill. Sits there unmoving, casting a dark shadow on the grass beside it. A sparrow lands on top. Does a little dance before it starts pecking. Flies up to a baby bird lying curled in a nest. Pushes food in its beak but the head moves limply to the side.
He looks at his wet palm. Searches for something to wipe it on, then, not finding anything, bursts it into flame. Holds it up. Watches it sizzle. The sugary smoke rises as he reaches down to the exposed tree root. It crackles as he tightens his grip around it. The leaves wither, start to dance, as the whole tree bursts into flame. Lil’ Darlene runs as the black smoke rises. The green leaves whistle. The peaches turn dark. The juices bubble as the flames rise. Branches crack and fall. Another tree catches and soon the whole orchard is engulfed. Monkey leans against the trunk as the flames rise around him. The sky and the clouds and the grass disappear in a sea of red. The last limbs fall. Charred stumps stick out of the heavenly earth. The bugs have stopped chirping. The birds have stopped singing. Nothing but the occasional fiery pop and Monkey leaning against a black smudge of a tree trunk.
He stands. Dusts himself off. Wanders down to the Jade Pool. Sticks his feet in. Watches the heavenly ash touch the surface of the water. He waits for it to dissolve but it sits there, lapping against the sides of the pool.
A golf cart rolls by. Buddha parks it by a marbled fountain. Gets out. Walks over to Monkey. Takes his shoes off. Sticks his legs in then leans back on his elbows.
“Isn’t there an old zen saying,” Monkey says not looking over, “that if you see Buddha, you should kill him?”
Buddha keeps looking up.
“There’s a saying for just about everything.”
They sit in silence. Their feet dipped in water. The faint hum of a party in the distance.
“I suppose you’re here for an explanation.”
Buddha contemplates this.
“Is that why I’m here?”
A red-crowned crane flies overhead. Lands on the other side of the pool. Preens its wings. Looks up startled then goes back to grooming.
“Immortality is mistake.”
Buddha splashes his feet in the water.
“It’s not for everyone.”
“It’s not for anyone.”
“It’s not for you.”
The crane fans its wing then settles. Its long curve of a neck hangs over as it watches for the slightest ripple then jabs its beak, pulls out a fish, rips it apart, the black guts pooling on a rock.
Monkey looks at his pouch. Thumbs it open. The heart is still beating. He holds it in his hands. Looks over to Buddha.
“I don’t know what to do with it.”
He squeezes. Feels the flesh tighten.
“You don’t know what to do with your heart?”
“It’s not mine.”
“But you’re holding it.”
“It doesn’t belong to me.”
“Who does it belong to?”
“A friend.”
Buddha scratches Lil’ Darlene under her chin. She rolls over showing her belly.
“How can you tell another man what to do with his heart?”
He picks up a rock. Skips it across.
“I thought you were going to be mad at me.”
“For what?” The smoke rises in the distance. “Oh.” Buddha’s eyes narrow. “That is a problem. But not the problem you think.”
The red-crowned crane dips its slender leg in the water. Takes a careful step.
“The immortals…are you…without the peaches…”
Buddha raises an eyebrow.
“Are you trying to ask if I am going to die now that the peach garden is destroyed?” Monkey nods. “You went all the way to India to fetch the scriptures and you didn’t bother to read them, did you?” Monkey shakes his head. “Well, you’re not the only one.” The crane opens its mouth showing its long spike of a tongue. Turns it head so its eye is facing them. “Imagine being the first person to reach enlightenment and to be utterly alone in your awakening.” He opens his hand to the pool. “All of heaven and no one but this bird and this pond and an empty palace.” He feels the cool slab of rock with his palm, then folds his arms. “I sat here a long time thinking, ‘Have patience. More will come. Give them time. How hard could it be? I left instructions.’” He smiles to himself. “Some came close. Guanyin. Lao Tzu. There were others. Most you never heard of. But not enough. Not nearly enough. And here was all of heaven that needed to be run. Not just the glorious courtly positions making proclamations sitting on auspicious clouds surrounded by magnificent birds. There were kitchen duties. Sinks to clean. Records to keep. We needed a whole staff and one that wasn’t dying all the time. And so, I came up with the immortal peaches. Immortality without insight. Most had come close. Close enough, I thought. They’d lived good lives. Not great, but…not bad. Why not give them a boost? And so the peach banquet was born. The heavenly bureaucracy was fortified and things ran smoothly. For awhile.”
He skips the stone across the water. The crane breaks from the tall grass, raises its wings and flies away.
But,” he pinches his fingers together, “even the tiniest gap.” His hands spread apart. Fall into his lap. “Thousands of years later, you see what it’s become.” He mulls this over. “It’s a tricky business. Lending someone a hand.” He wags a finger at Monkey. “I might be Buddha, but even I make mistakes from time to time.”
The crane is far in the distance. Its great wing span turns into a wavy line then a black dot then nothing at all.
Monkey looks nervously to the Heavenly Palace. The faint sound of music and conversation dampening out over the lawn.
“I’ve said enough.” He slaps Monkey on the back. “It’s good to see your face.” He wanders back to his golf cart.
“You don’t have any advice you want to give me?”
Buddha taps his fingers on the steering wheel.
“You want my advice?”
Monkey nods.
“Stop wanting.” Buddha turns the key. “And if you can’t do that,” the golf cart pulls away, “at least stop wanting my advice.”
Monkey sits by the pool then gets himself up. Walks to the great gold doors of the Heavenly Palace. A tiny piece of metal’s peeled off the nose of a serious looking dragon. He touches it with his finger. Feels the vibrations, the music buzzing from inside, then pushes it open. Everyone is watching the band, their costumed heads turned away, looking into the bright lights of the stage. He leaps up into the rafters, looks down as the ball gowns unfurl like little pinwheels, billowing and receding.
He spots Darlene as she adjusts her Dorothy wig, moves The Jade Emperor’s hand up from the small of her back. She plucks a cigarette from her purse. He coughs, swings her around, tries to get closer, but the smoke swirls as she puffs away.
“Darling, what are you thinking about?”
She frowns.
“Wasn’t thinking ‘bout nothing,” rolls the cigarette to the other side of her mouth, “‘but now I’m thinking how an ex used to call me darlin’ and I don’t like thinking ‘bout him.”
He turns her so the light from the disco ball moves across her face.
“I’ll kill him.”
“He’s already dead, so good luck.”
“I can make arrangements.”
“Yeah?” She considers this as he leads her around the room. “I can feel your wife’s eyes in the back of my head. Feel ‘em in my god damn teeth.” She looks over at Mara. Gives her a wink. “So all these people are dead huh? And you too? A bunch of dead people having a party in the sky?”
“We’re immortal.”
She rolls her cigarette.
“And so what does that make me? Darlene, debutante of the dead, I guess.”
He spins her around. Dips her then brings her back up.
“Dead is just a four letter word.”
She locks eyes with Pig. Gives him the nod.
“So how does this all work? You die once. You go to heaven or hell. Then, what? You die again? Then where do you go? The after-after life?”
The Jade Emperor shrugs.
“I’ve never died twice.”
“You’re in charge of this whole operation and you don’t even know how it works?”
He turns her.
“I know how this works.” He pulls her close. “But I don’t know everything.”
She puts her hand around his waist and dips him. His head bends back as he looks up smiling.
“You got that right, bud.”
Mara breaks free, dashes through the crowd only to be tackled by The Bull Demon. Her sword slides across the floor. Erlang points a spear at Pig’s throat as Darlene lifts The Jade Emperor up.
Mara’s father pushes through. The Bull Demon is lying on top of his daughter. Her hand has ripped a hole through his red leather jacket and gotten stuck as he awkwardly shifts his big belly to try and keep her from getting away. She looks up, sees her father standing over her and freezes, her hand stops struggling, her eyes grow wide as he reaches down and plucks her up with his giant red claws.
He examines her curiously then rips open her dress, looks at her scar stitched up. She turns her head away. Closes her eyes. Sinks to the floor as he takes the jeweled knife from his belt, holds the hilt towards her. She looks at the floor in front of her, the boards slanting towards the wall, the cracks, the wavy lines in the grain. He holds the knife, waiting, as she slowly turns her head, takes it from him, touches the tip of the blade against her side then slowly pushes it in.
Monkey’s eyes blaze with fire.
“How can I sit here and not do something!”
He pulls his cudgel from his ear. Every muscle in his body aches to leap from the rafters and smash him into pieces, but… something stops him. The fire dies.
“It feels wrong to do nothing,” he says to no one, then sits back down to watch.
Darlene checks her wicker basket, stops by the bar and plucks a beer off the table. Her Dorothy wig starts itching and she tosses it across the room. Scratches her head then wanders back to The Jade Emperor’s side.
Lil’ Darlene growls at the wig on the floor. Monkey pets her absentmindedly as she squirms around his hand to get a better look. A heavenly guard picks up the wig, slow walks it over to Darlene, who snatches it from him and stuffs it in her wicker basket. Lil’ Darlene’s ears stand at attention as she slips from Monkey’s grasp, leaps through the air, lands on the giant disco ball knocking it off its axis sending it crashing to the floor. Thousands of tiny mirrors shatter as she hits the ground with a sharp squeak then bolts down the red carpet as the crowd makes way. She hops up and lands in the wicker basket, her tail wagging, eyes pleading for love as Darlene sinks to her knees.
“You came back. You came back.” She feels her wet little nose against her face. “Who put this stupid ribbon in your hair?”
The Jade Emperor, mildly amused by the whole spectacle, turns back to Mara. Darlene stays kneeling as her dog licks the tears from her face. The heavenly guests have started to yell but the voices are softened like they’re in another room. She sees Manjushri’s sword lying in a pile of melting jello. The Jade Emperor turns just in time to see the flames burst from the cold steel as Darlene, eyes wild, lunges toward him and lops his head off sending it spinning across the room.
No one moves except Randy who tosses The Peking duck off a silver platter, picks up the head then runs out the door. Pig, seeing his chance, breaks away from Erlang and disappears as The Empress stands and points at Darlene, still swinging the sword around. A dozen Heavenly guards fall on top of her pinning her to the floor as Lil’ Darlene runs around them barking and biting at their heels.
Darlene screams. Tries to lift the pile of men on top of her but falls back. Her hand reaches up as Monkey peers down from above.
A small hand
pokes out from a sea of bodies
stretching toward him
as Monkey thinks of Buddha’s words
but they are nothing
in the face of the hand
and his friend’s voice
calling out
Erlang picks up her sword, stands over her, as she’s thrust to her knees, her head bent to the floor. He raises it as Darlene closes her eyes and waits for the blow. The room grows silent except for a faint buzzing that grows louder as Erlang turns towards the door. Two simple notes, repeated over and over, echo in the great banquet hall. A slight shift up then back down as an invisible crowd starts chanting,
“Aaaaahaaa aahhaaahhaaaaaa.”
All of the heads look toward the stage but the band has disappeared. The Empress calls out to her guards who draw their swords. The servants, not sure what to do, scurry around, too afraid to approach the giant gold doors, as the music grows louder and they start to shake, shining in their heavenly brilliance.
THUNDER!
“Aaaaahaaa aahhaaahhaaaaaa.”THUNDER!
The guards flip over tables and chairs trying to create a blockade as others stream in, picking up anything they can use as a weapon. Mara’s father listens to the chanting, looks at his daughter, the knife stuck in her side, still struggling to get away. He nods approvingly then disappears down a hall as everyone holds their breath and a gravely voice fills the room.
“I was caught in the middle
of a railroad track
I looked ‘round and knew
there was no turning back”
The Bull Demon finds Princess Iron Fan. Gives her a squeeze as he stands behind her.
“This is the best peach banquet yet.” She gives him a look as he pulls his two handed axe out. “What?” She plucks the iron fan barrettes from her hair, palms them as she looks for her son.
“If things get sorted, we should end up on different sides. That way…”
He kisses the back of her head.
“You don’t have to tell me. Your scheming was the reason I fell in love with you.”
“Sound of the drums
beating in my heart
The thunder of guns
tore me apart.
You've been”
The doors burst off their hinges as Monkey pulls his gold banded cudgel from his ear.
“Thunderstruck”
The guards swarm as Monkey leaps and dodges whirling his cudgel, feeling each movement as it happens. He summersaults over The Bull Demon, lands on the buffet table and crushes it. The potato salad hits the floor as the Empress rises from her throne, lifts her arms and transforms into a dragon that curls around the heavenly ballroom. Lightning flashes as she opens her mouth. lets out a scream that shakes the building and sets the peach lanterns ablaze.
Lao Tzu watches from the crowd. Looks at The Empress. Her mouth open. Her red throat looming above him then over to Monkey weaving through the heavenly soldiers, jumping from helmet to helmet, taking their weapons, breaking them, all the time with a faint smile. The Jade Emperor’s body staggers around, headless, groping the red curtain as the gold heavenly chalice falls to the floor, the last bit of peach liquor spilling out onto the carpet.
Lao Tzu nods to himself then steps forward, raises his arms as all the plates and silverware and dishes chunk together with the platters of macaroni salad, the chandelier shards and burning lanterns, jewelry ripped from the necks of the costumed guests, white walled tires and red curtains, ice from the beer coolers, Betty’s deflated head and the gauzy ocean fabric, the black leather jackets and wooden chairs, all the bits and pieces of the heavenly ballroom mash together into a dragon that hovers above him. It lets out a thunderous roar as everyone takes their positions and the battle for heaven begins.