The Autobiography of Red (17 page)

Saturday went whitely on.

 

Geryon walked along the seawall. He passed groups of people waiting

 

and individuals waiting.

 

There was neither excitement nor the absence of excitement. Dogs waited.

 

Police waited resting their guns

 

against a parked car. The soccer team had withdrawn from the beach to wait

 

on a verandah overlooking the seawall.

 

While waiting most people gazed steadily out to sea or down the street. A few

 

kicked stones. Geryon started back

 

to the house. From a block away he could hear the parrots. No one was home.

 

He went up to the roof and sat

 

on his cot trying to think how to photograph Lima. But his brain was as blank

 

as the featureless sky.

 

He went out walking again. Along the seawall. Past many small shut houses.

 

Down alleyways where stinging sea fog

 

hung in clots over the cobblestones. Across a ragged park where two llamas

 

were tethered beside a gigantic bronze head,

 

its mouth open in an O as when someone dies laughing. Geryon sat in the mouth

 

dangling his feet and eating a banana

 

while the llamas pulled at the sparse grass. Mental states like anxiety or grief

 

have degrees, he thought, but boredom

 

has no degrees.
I shall never amount to much,
he remarked to the llamas.

 

They did not look up.

 

Geryon tossed his half-eaten banana onto the ground near them. They nosed it

 

out of the way and kept on pulling grass.

 

Geryon saw night was coming on. He climbed out of the mouth and went his way.

 

Back along the seawall towards the house

 

with the chicken-wired front window where fifty red parrots dove and roared

 

like a conscious waterfall. That would be

 

a good title for the photograph, Geryon thought as he strode along. Night always

 

perked him up.

 

Many hours later Geryon was sitting on his cot on the roof thinking about sleep but

 

too cold to move. Ancash appeared

 

on the ladder with his blankets in his arms. Piled them on the floor by Geryon.

 

I will show you how to keep warm

 

on a winter night in Lima,
said Ancash.
It’s very simple the important thing is

 

do you need to take a piss?

 

Because once I wrap you up you’ll have to stay that way till morning.

 

No I’m okay but
—

 

Good then come over here and take off your overcoat.

 

Take off what?
—said Herakles jumping

 

off the ladder.
You

 

having a party up here without me?

 

Ancash was unfolding a blanket.

 

I’m showing Geryon a way to stay warm for the night,
he said. Herakles came

 

towards them grinning.

 

I could show him some ways to stay warm for the night.
Geryon paused like a hare

 

in headlights.

 

Ancash took a step.
Why don’t you let things be,
he said to Herakles.

 

There was a moment of thick silence.

 

Then Herakles shrugged and turned away.
Okay,
he said.
I’ll go down and smoke dope

 

with your mother.

 

My mother doesn’t smoke dope she only sells it,
said Ancash to Herakles’ back.

 

And she’ll make you pay.

 

We’ll see,
said Herakles and vanished down the ladder. Ancash looked at Geryon.

 

Difficult man,
he said.

 

He held up the blanket. Geryon looked on numbly.

 

Okay now off with your coat

 

and then take hold of this end while I wrap the rest of it around you,
said Ancash

 

holding out the blanket.

 

It’s pure wool it will trap all your body heat if we wind it right come on Geryon

 

you’ll have to lift your
—

 

Listen Ancash,
Geryon broke in,
this is great I really appreciate it but I think

 

it’d be better if you just

 

leave the blankets here and let me do it myself
—

 

Don’t be stupid Geryon

 

how can you do it yourself? It has to go all the way around you two or three times

 

then you lie down and I pile the others on top
—

 

No really Ancash I don’t
—

 

Geryon sometimes you try my patience just do it okay? Just give me the benefit

 

of the doubt here I’ve had a very long day.

 

Ancash stepped forward and pulled Geryon’s overcoat down past his shoulders

 

and off his arms. It fell to the floor.

 

Then he thrust the blanket into Geryon’s hands and spun him around so he could

 

start wrapping from the back.

 

All of a sudden the night was a bowl of silence.
Jesus Mary and Joseph,

 

said Ancash quietly.

 

He gave a low whistle. Ancash had not seen Geryon’s wings before.

 

They rustled through the two slits

 

cut in the back of Geryon’s T-shirt and sank a bit on the night wind.

 

Ancash ran his fingers slowly

 

down the red struts that articulated each wing base. Geryon shivered.

 

He wondered if he was going to faint.

 

Yazcamac,
whispered Ancash. He took Geryon by the arms and rotated him

 

to face front.
I beg your pardon?
said Geryon

 

in a faraway voice.
Here sit down we have to talk.
Ancash pushed Geryon down

 

on the cot. He picked a blanket

 

off the floor and threw it around Geryon’s shoulders then sat beside him.

 

Thanks,
mumbled Geryon

 

pulling the blanket over his head.
Now listen to me Geryon,

 

Ancash was saying,

 

there’s a village in the mountains north of Huaraz called Jucu and in Jucu

 

they believe some strange things.

 

It’s a volcanic region. Not active now. In ancient times they worshipped

 

the volcano as a god and even

 

threw people into it. For sacrifice?
asked Geryon whose head had come out

 

of the blanket.

 

No not exactly. More like a testing procedure. They were looking for people

 

from the inside. Wise ones.

 

Holy men I guess you would say. The word in Quechua is
Yazcol Yazcamac
it means

 

the Ones Who Went and Saw and Came Back
—

 

I think the anthropologists say
eyewitnesses.
These people did exist.

 

Stories are told of them still.

 

Eyewitnesses,
said Geryon.

 

Yes. People who saw the inside of the volcano.

 

And came back.

 

Yes.

 

How do they come back?

 

Wings.

 

Wings? Yes that’s what they say the Yazcamac return as red people with wings,

 

all their weaknesses burned away
—

 

and their mortality. What’s wrong Geryon?
Geryon was scratching furiously.

 

Something biting me,
he said.

 

Oh shit I wonder where that blanket’s been. Here
—Ancash pulled it off—

 

give it to me.
Probably

 

parrot ticks those birds are—Hombres!
said Herakles bounding up the ladder.

 

Guess what? We’re going to Huaraz!

 

Your mother wants to show me the town!
Ancash stared dumbly at Herakles

 

who didn’t notice but

 

fell onto the cot beside Geryon.
We’re going to see the high Andes Geryon!

 

first thing tomorrow

 

I’ll get a rental car and we’ll start. Be there by dark she says. Marguerite

 

is giving your mom the day off

 

he said turning to Ancash,
so we can stay all weekend come back Sunday night
—

 

what do you think?

 

He grinned at Ancash.
Think you’re quite an operator is what I think.

 

Yeah!
Herakles laughed

 

and flicked Geryon’s blanket.
I’m a master of monsters aren’t I?

 

He grabbed Geryon

 

and tumbled him back onto the cot.
Fuck off Herakles,
Geryon’s voice came out

 

muffled from under Herakles’ arm.

 

But Herakles jumped up—
Have to call the rental place
—and rushed down the ladder.

 

Ancash watched Geryon in silence

 

as he gathered himself to the edge of the cot and sat slowly upright.

 

Geryon you’ll have to be careful in Huaraz.

 

There are people around there still looking for eyewitnesses. If you see someone

 

checking your shadow

 

you come get me, okay?
He smiled.
Okay
. Geryon almost smiled.

 

Ancash paused.

 

And listen if you’re cold tonight you can sleep with me.
With a look he added,

 

Just sleep.
He left.

 

Geryon sat staring out over the roofs into the darkness. The Pacific at night is red

 

and gives off a soot of desire.

 

Every ten meters or so along the seawall Geryon could see small twined couples.

 

They looked like dolls.

 

Geryon wished he could envy them but he did not. I have to get out of this place,

 

he thought. Immortal or not.

 

He climbed into his sleeping bag and slept until dawn without moving.