for him began to fill all the empty space in the lonely house, and in
her half-formed life. But now his extended absences aggravated those
naked spaces. She could not understand why he was avoiding her.
Ever since he discovered that book. That book. What was it about?
She was afraid to look at it. It lay there in the tent in her room, dog-
eared, marked and tattered. She could not bring herself to touch it.
One night when she had reached the bottom of her well and
could hoist up no more tears, Lily crawled into the outdoor tent
inside her room and fingered the volume lightly. Her flashlight
illuminated the strange cascade of letters sifted through the tender
shoots of her fingers. She read each poem, each fragment, each word,
each letter over and over until the silent grey hum of morning crept
up against the translucent walls of her sanctuary. So much of it was
incomprehensible, but assorted lines stabbed her heart with the pain
of recognition. It was ugly. Terrible. Somewhere among all its curses,
though, she thought she sensed a seed of organic beauty, a tiny green
sapling among the black fields of shit.
She lay back at last, exhausted on the pillows and placed the
flashlight between her legs. It illuminated the blue ceiling of the
dome like a renegade sun shining up from an underworld cavern.
An hour later Ermita found her like that, asleep, the alarm clock
filling the room with its incessant black buzz.
A, black belt, bursting flies buzzing
“You gon’ be late for school,” Ermita said, peering in and clicking
her tongue.
“I’m not well,” Lily grumbled, feeling beastly.
“You lying?”
She wasn’t. Her fever began to climb and by the time her father
came home that evening, she was dangerously hot. He took the
delirious child, stripped her naked and together with Ermita, placed
her in a tub filled with ice-water as she screamed and flailed and
cried. A doctor came and prescribed something. The fever broke but
came back the next day. Her father was at work. Her mother out.
Doctors came again. Hospital? No, she should be. Delusions and
dreams. Hallucinating, freely bleeding between two worlds. Senses
deranged, soul become monstrous. Kidnapped by darkness. She
thrashed.
He came in to her room the following night through an unlocked
window. She awoke before his blue-gray silhouette. He stroked her
wet brow. He was well-combed and spotless, dressed in white.
ABYSSINIA
208
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