The Apocalypse Reader (26 page)

JOSH: Being the ex-God sucks worse. I should just let my boyfriend eat me. Who cares anymore?

MACKEREL: (
impatiently
) Tell me more about me. God commands you.

JOSH: Well, this is more about me than it is about you, but I'll be happy when you're dead and unattractive.

MACKEREL: That's about me.

JOSH: Then there you go.

MACKEREL: You just need to have sex with somebody who'll never ever have me no matter how much they beg. And I know just the guy, unless you're racist. He's from Bin Laden-ville.

JOSH: Like I care. Like who does it to me ever has an identity.

MACKEREL: I hear that.

JOSH: Is he cute? Not that I care what guys look like.

MACKEREL: I'm a racist. So you tell me.

JOSH: Bin Laden's cute.

Mackerel grabs his stomach and gags.

MACKEREL: Then he's cute. God, ugh, that's disgusting. I'm going to throw up.

ABOUT AN HOUR later, Mackerel, Josh, and the aforementioned psychic are sitting in a circle on an old Persian rug in the latter's little storefront. He's just finished reading Josh's tarot cards. Since the psychic is a Middle Easterner, it feels realistic.

JOSH: (
to the psychic
) Quit staring at my crotch.

PSYCHIC: Crotch smotch.

MACKEREL: (
to the psychic
) He's freaked out. He needs more heroin.

PSYCHIC: I don't care.

MACKEREL: (
to Josh
) Reality isn't reality to a psychic. I'm pretending he's a painting.

JOSH: I've never seen a painting. That's like paint on something flat that looks exactly like a picture, right? Like I care.

MACKEREL: Not really. It's better. It's even more real in a weird way. Like Tony Hawk Pro Skater 3 on pause, but more serene.

Josh thinks about that until he seems satisfied.

JOSH: (
to the psychic
) Okay, we're cool if you can channel my ugly, middle-aged boyfriend. 'Cos he's my problem.

Hearing that, the psychic shuts his eyes, bows his head, and becomes a kind of human speaker phone.

PSYCHIC: (
in a gay-sounding voice
) The problem is I want to eat you. Literally. But you won't let me.

MACKEREL: (
to the psychic
) I think my buddy knows that, but he wants to know the reason.

JOSH: When you're on heroin, you can calm down just like this.

He indicates how relaxed his whole body seems all of a sudden.

JOSH: Being a junkie is awesome.

MACKEREL: (
to the psychic
) Can a thirteen-year-old be gay? I've always wondered.

PSYCHIC: (
in a gay-sounding voice
) Oh my God, yes. Just let me eat my boyfriend, and we'll talk.

MACKEREL: (
to Josh
) Now you ask him something.

Josh sits there thinking angrily for a minute.

JOSH: (
to the psychic channeling his boyfriend
) Okay, if you eat me, what will happen? I mean on a universal level. I don't mean the temporary things like pain.

PSYCHIC: (
in a gay-sounding voice
) This is nice. It's like we're going to a couples' counselor.

JOSH: (
to Mackerel
) See, that's why I love my boyfriend. I need a father.

MACKEREL: Me too. It's weird.

PSYCHIC: (
in a gay-sounding voice
) If I eat you, your life will have more implications. You won't just be hot and sixteen and a junkie. They'll write a book about you, or two or three books. People will always want to know why some gay guy would eat you.

Josh laughs delightedly.

JOSH: (
to Mackerel
) That's so him.

Just then the psychic's head lifts and his beady eyes reopen. Mackerel and Josh look at him suspiciously.

PSYCHIC: (
dazedly
) It's just erased time for me. But I don't care if you believe me or not.

MACKEREL: (
to Josh
) We'd better pay him and go. I know him. But I'll say no more.

PSYCHIC: (
to Josh
) Before I moved here from Afghanistan, I saw your ass in a dream.

JOSH: That's ... nice?

The psychic whips his tunic off over his head and tosses it aside. His body is fleshy bordering on obese, but shows signs of having been very well built at one time.

JOSH: Afghanistan is where heroin comes from, right?

PSYCHIC: Yeah, why?

MACKEREL: (
to the psychic
) He's a junkie. We told you that when you were in that trance. But I'll say no more.

PSYCHIC: You know what's saddest about the world since 9/11? Even sadder than your dead and our dead?

JOSH: If it's not about heroin, I don't care. Well, heroin or my boyfriend. Fuck, I wish I understood why we love, don't you? I mean we humans. I would have been a movie star by now. That was my old goal.

PSYCHIC: You're sexy when you're thoughtful.

JOSH: Pshaw. But that's sweet.

PSYCHIC: You would have been a whore. You'11 be one anyway. That's foretold by that card over there. I just tell it like it is. I can't care about your feelings. You want some heroin? I could use some too.

JOSH: Sure. I don't care about my boyfriend when I'm loaded.

The psychic pulls a packet of yellowy quote-unquote dope out of his discarded tunic.

PSYCHIC: Not to put too fine a point on it, but the thing about the 9/11 bullshit? It wasn't Bin Laden. It wasn't even Al Qaeda.

JOSH: I know. It was our hearts.

PSYCHIC: (
with irritation
) Somebody should murder you.

JOSH: Heroin is murder.

The psychic tosses Josh the quote-unquote dope, then appears to lose his preternatural Islamic-style mystery and cool.

PSYCHIC: (
angrily
) No, really murder you. I mean as soon as possible. Like now, hint hint. If we were in Afghanistan, everyone would want to murder you. You wouldn't last a day. Your stupid American morality is why we hate you and want to live here and hate living here. But you need psychics.

JOSH: You're good.

PSYCHIC: I'm not that good. I'm just ambitious. But you call that terrorism.

JOSH: You think I don't understand you, but I can. Guys have pulled every kind of crap to get my ass. The murder thing is really, really old.

PSYCHIC: Then what did I just say? Either one of you boys feel free to answer because I'd love to know what you think you know.

JOSH: Then read my mind. Or read his mind. Yeah, read his. I already know what I'm thinking.

The psychic glances meaningfully at Mackerel.

PSYCHIC: I can only read the future. And Mackerel doesn't have one. But he and I have been through this already.

JOSH: Okay, then how does his future not happen? If you're so fucking brilliant.

PSYCHIC: Do that dope. Learn by example.

JOSH: That's a thought. But still ...

PSYCHIC: Okay, you think I'm attracted to you, right? I make you think that. It's an Afghan thing. That's how we bombed your fucking country. There's your proof.

Josh studies the psychic for a second then laughs and starts pouring the quote-unquote dope out on this little mirror he always carries around in his pocket just in case.

JOSH: You're good. I mean you're really, really good. Okay, you win. What are you into?

PSYCHIC: I'm into you not knowing what to expect. Okay, I'm into rimming and fist fucking. But do that dope first. I like my whores brain-dead.

Josh is already dividing the quote-unquote dope into lines with this razorblade he also carries with him.

JOSH: (
distractedly
) Sounds good. I mean whatever you said.

PSYCHIC: In Afghanistan, there's very famous canyon called Khakistarikhan. It's the deepest canyon in all the world. When I'm through with you, I'm going to enter your ass in the Khak- istarikan lookalike contest. It's a big event in Islam, and you'll definitely win.

JOSH: (
to Mackerel
) If you'd ever been fist fucked, you'd be so turned on right now.

MACKEREL: No, I wouldn't.

PSYCHIC: (
to Mackerel
) You should develop your gift. Let me have sex with your dead buddy here. Then I'll lend you a book.

MACKEREL: According to you, I won't have time to read it.

PSYCHIC: That's true, but don't make me laugh. I'll lose my focus. Here, junkie. Use this capitalist prop.

He hands Josh a hundred-dollar bill. Josh rolls the bill into a straw, then leans over and snorts up all the quote-unquote dope.

JOSH: Tell me more about this canyon. I mean more about me.

PSYCHIC: Once a year, a huge prehistoric creature that lives deep in the canyon comes to the surface and does a little dance. He looks exactly like my forearm.

JOSH: Whatever that means. Wow, this is killer heroin. I mean literally. I can feel the legend.

Josh has started to look too relaxed to be around a Middle Easterner in this political climate.

MACKEREL: (
to Josh
) Don't you see what he's doing? This is how the whole 9/11 bullshit happened. He just told you that himself.

PSYCHIC: (
to Mackerel
) He's beyond you. Besides, you love it.

MACKEREL: That could be true. I'd have to think about it.

PSYCHIC: (
to Mackerel
) Don't you realize it yet? You're the one who wants a sixteen-year-old corpse. I'm just a nice guy.

MACKEREL: You're wrong.

He points down at the bulge in his blue jeans.

MACKEREL: This hard-on is bullshit. I just have this whole thing about overdosing on heroin. You started it. Sex is just like whatever. Dying is sex to me.

PSYCHIC: You're too good for this world. As opposed to that corpse or impending corpse over there. You knew him. So you tell me. Dead or not dead?

Mackerel glances at josh and sees an ugly whitish color that has to mean death's in the mix. He starts rubbing his crotch to help counteract the unsexiness of his moral dilemma.

MACKEREL: (
somberly
) He's history. We're like historians now.

PSYCHIC: Now I'll tell you the truth. I'm not just a psychic. I'm an Al Qaeda operative. He's my mission. It's all about semantics. Do you want to hear the story? It'll curl your toes.

MACKEREL: They already are. Maybe I'm psychic, because I already know what you're going to say.

PSYCHIC: I'm listening.

MACKEREL: If I tell you, you'll lose your hard-on. But you're a stalker. How's that for proof?

PSYCHIC: I love him. That's where our cultural differences get in the way. In my culture, this is love if you're gay. We're not fancy about it. You think we live in caves because we like to live in caves? It's a metaphor. We live together in caves until we find our own caves and fly away. I searched your country coast to coast, and this junkie's ass is mine. Wait'll you see it.

MACKEREL: Like you've seen it.

PSYCHIC: I didn't have to. That's just your literal American thinking. Don't even try to understand it.

MACKEREL: You're big on words and concepts. If I were gay, I'd say God is sex, and seducing straight boys like me is the prayer. Josh told me his boyfriend had to rob a bank to make him gay. He said before then he was just another guy who couldn't make the football team and turned into a stoner. Maybe he was lying, I don't know. The past isn't my thing. So I question your story. How's that for being psychic?

PSYCHIC: Maybe if I knew myself better, I'd agree. Your freedoms are intimidating. How's that for honesty?

MACKEREL: No offense. All I'm saying is your quest is nothing special. You and him are just porn. Death is sex. I mean my death, not his.

PSYCHIC: So I should murder you too? I'm confused.

MACKEREL: No, I'm just saying we should film it. Let's say, hypothetically, I film you doing gay stuff to him. Then we upload the video onto a Web site, and charge guys to watch. They jack off and imagine they're you and all that. Then at the end of the tape we put a little text that says, "Oh, by the way, the boy you just saw getting fucked and et cetera was dead, ha ha ha. You're a necrophiliac. Busted." It might be like flying a plane into the World Trade Center, except a lot more profitable for us.

The psychic scrunches up his face in concentration for a moment.

PSYCHIC: (
laughing
) I wonder who would win in a debate, Bin Laden or you? I'll always wonder that.

MACKEREL: You really need to chill on the Bin Laden thing. I mean if you guys over there in Afghanistan really want to be like the West.

PSYCHIC: I sort of wish he was alive. I mean the) unkie, not Bin Laden. Don't get your hopes up. I just mean I wish he knew how much his ass will change the world. But I'm into S&M, so fuck him.

MACKEREL: Not to disappoint you, but his ass is kind of hairy. Not that I've seen it. You could shave it, I guess. We do that a lot over here.

PSYCHIC: (
angrily
) That's so typically nihilistic of your culture.

MACKEREL: Here, I'll show you. It's not a trick. You could do it too, for future reference.

Mackerel tugs on one of the legs of josh's jeans until there's a naked foot of calf, and rubs one finger gently through its modest thicket of blondishbrown hairs.