they’re so enormous?”
He stretched his hand out to indicate the rows of meaningless
lives spread out before them, empty ledgers for an anonymous bank
account. “This is the meaning we struggle all our lives to obtain,” he
said, “Satisfaction guaranteed.”
She studied the lines on his forehead, tried to make some sense
out of the open book etched there. “Did someone do something
terrible to you Yak?”
He looked away. “No. No one did anything to me.”
“But you’re cracked,” she said, “Like a big broken teapot that
needs mending.”
Yak brushed the hair away from her face with his long palm and
saw her upside-down. He now saw a pair of eyes with a long-bearded
chin, a red gash cut across the pointy bald head. It was a winsome
sight. But even like this she was beautiful.
“I will hold you together,” said the gash, “If you let me.
She rolled over. “Come on,” she took his hands and led him,
skipping again through the gravestones until they reached a wooded
border. There, encircled by thin willows was a small pond. Rich
ducklings swam slow circles round the pale jade and gold.
“I used to go swimming here sometimes with friends,” she said,
“The water is very clear.”
She swiftly pulled the linen dress above her head, then moved
into the water. Yak tried to turn away but he couldn’t. The muscles,
the skin, the softness and bones, the grace and confidence. One could
not turn away. He tried to shut his eyes. In up to her waist, she turned
around and held her arms towards him.
“Please come in,” she coaxed. He turned his head sideways. “It’s
just like your kungkum,” she said. “We don’t have to do anything. We
can just enjoy the water. You don’t have to touch me.” Yak hesitated,
then acquiesced and began walking towards the pond.
“What about your clothes?” she said, but he was entering the
water fully dressed. It was surprisingly warm and translucent. He lay
in the center, floating among the lily pads as she swam around him.
From his point of view it seemed as if he was the one moving,
spinning, passing again and again a beautifully rounded, cleft
mountain in the distance. Once again, he tried to close his eyes but
couldn’t. He tried to think of a way out of this. To climb that
mountain would be the end of him. And her.
“I think I’m getting an appetite now,” he said.
ABYSSINIA
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