The Ticket That Exploded (Burroughs, William S.) (11 page)

He woke to drifting golden notes of distant hunting horns — He sat up — The frog people were gone — The horns were louder and clearer now — Into the clearing where he sat burst a pack of dogs with human skin and faces — The animals were the size and shape of small greyhounds — They surrounded him snarling and yapping — A young man appeared standing in a weightless medium so that his feet made no impression in the swamp mud — Naked except for a quiver of silver arrows and a bow, he radiated a calm disdainful authority — He lifted a slow hand and the dogs were silent — He looked at Bradly with something too neutral to be called contempt and spoke in English: “I see that the blockade is broken and we expect such visitors — Street boys fed on scraps and garbage” —

The dogs were smiling and whimpering now rubbing against Bradly, squirming and ejaculating under his fingers — The young man looked at the dogs and he looked at Bradly — He smiled a slow smile old as the rotting kingdom — “Well, Mr Bradly, we shall see” — He picked up Bradly’s camera gun — Looked at it from a vast distance and dropped it into the mud — Several bearded naked huntsmen had entered the clearing carrying long golden horns —

“Come, Mr Bradly — There
is
much for you to learn
and quickly — Otherwise you must assume some form acceptable to the Old Controller — Your present form is quite intolerable, of course — No, you won’t need your clothes” —

They came to a palace of crumbling stone covered by trailing vines from which dangled the glistening black fruit in jars — a ruined garden decorated with phallic statues — The Prince stopped before two marble youths kneeling in the act of sodomy their faces turned up to the eternal moonlight remote and dreamy with slow pleasure of limestone centuries — As Bradly watched they shifted in a slow movement and a pearl stood out on the boy’s erect penis, glittered in the moonlight — The bronze statue of a masturbating boy yielded a drop of phosphorescent black ichor — “That is where the Black Fruit comes from — Then it is grafted into the vines and it must ripen in the jars until it is ready” — There were other statues of silver and gold and porcelain all yielding the slow fruit of time — They were walking now along ruined porticoes where youths of translucent amber caressed each other stroking out encrusted odors and whiffs of music —

“Ward Island is afflicted by a disease so terrible that the entire ceremonial life of the natives revolves around fear of the disease and precautions to avoid it — The onset is
sudden — The victim is seen abusing himself publicly while addressing some unseen presence with endearing terms — He becomes dirty and emaciated — In the final stages he is literally eaten alive by his invisible partner and subsides into the state of an insect larva paralyzed, slobbering and covered by a caustic green slime that seeps from the rectum — In this condition they are carried out into the mud flats by the superstitious natives and left to the mercy of land crabs — (Note: This practice has been forbidden by the resident governor) — The island is almost level with the water and surrounded by shallow lagoons so that boats must anchor about two miles off shore” —

So writes an early traveler — It was evening when the boat anchored and i could see nothing of the island — i had my equipment for the expedition packed and my boy Jimmy helped me to load it into a gondola of thin black wood— The boatman was a young man with the lithe frame of a Malay and bright red lips — He kept his eyes cast down with the closed beaten expression of dying peoples — He propelled us through iridescent oily water that gave off a rank odor under his strokes — We tied up at a rotting pier that extended out into the shallow water — Sting rays and crabs stirred clouds of black mud — We were met at the pier by a middle-aged Dutchman who was proprietor of the only hotel — He led the way along a wooden catwalk to the hotel which was a three story structure of split bamboo on high stilts over the swampy ground — Darkness was falling and after unpacking we descended to the veranda and had a whisky with the proprietor — i asked him about the disease — “It is here
in the head — So they are scaring themselves to the death — i am now twenty years here — In other times we used to export much fruit that grow here — So a special fruit black with such a taste — Then these stupid stories come out and the island is now quarantine” —

When i told him of my plan to make an expedition to the interior of the island he said it would be impossible to obtain any native guides or bearers since the disease is supposed to have its origin in the swamps and jungles of the interior —

July 7, 1862 — Saw something of the island and the natives — Surrounding the hotel is a village crisscrossed with catwalks over the mud flats — The entire island seems to consist of swamp delta — The natives are silent and sad conveying the impression of faded photos — As the proprietor predicted we were unable to enlist any native guides or boatmen — With his help we have purchased one of the flat gondolas — with an outrigger attachment and mats of split bamboo we can pitch our tent over the boat — We will start for the interior tomorrow —

July 8, 1862 — We got an early start poling and paddling our canoe up the river — There seems to be little wild life about — nothing but swamp with here and there islands of swampy ground and cypress — At twilight we tied up to a cypress stump and put out our night lines — After a meal of tinned food we spread the mat of split bamboo and lay down under mosquito netting — The night pressed against our naked bodies like a damp mold spread to jungle sounds and lapping water — Am writing this at dawn —

July 9, 1962 — Disease of the image track — The onset
is sudden voices screaming a steady stream — I had forgotten unseen force of memory pictures — Muttering slobbering outhouse skin seeps from his rectum — island of dying people surrounded by shallow lagoons — The boatman smiles — Wired red lips entered the ‘20s in drag from the Ward Island natives — slow motion through iridescent oily water —Absent tenants stood naked — Ghost disease spattered on victim — Muttering to himself interrogates substance of the other invisible presence — He becomes dirty with the speed of “Want it” — Tentative being eaten alive by empty flesh of insect larvae — Human form been covered by caustic green slime — Faces sucked into other land that is almost level with the water — Passengers are picked up by flicker — It was early morning when mummy fingers goosed his ass — round gate from burning sex skin — wind voices beside the man with lithe frame of a Malay — Sullen female impersonators listen — the faces all forgotten — Orgasm of memory strokes gave off a rank smell under his law — Prisoners in the terminal case carried to crabs — mummy flesh over middle-aged deflated skin — death’s own boy — talk to switchblade of bamboo — Business dissolved in smoke and errand boy of such a taste — “All right, Doctor, quarantined” he gestures at indications enough “i told you i would come naked on our beds — Healed scars cry from Jimmy saying he had to pass without doing pictures — i found enemy all right — Suddenly shut off excitement” —

July 9, 1862 — We pulled in our night lines and found a large fish with a smooth yellow skin — The meat was soft and phosphorescent and had a metallic taste — In the late afternoon we grounded the boat on a sand bar and
got out to bathe in a shallow pool that came up to our ankles — As Jimmy was rubbing soap on my back we noticed an orchid covered by brilliant green and red flowers hanging over the water — As we touched the plant long tendrils covered by erectile hairs stung our necks and shoulders — A burning itch ran over my body exploding in rectum and genitals like liquid fire — With an animal cry Jimmy forced his soapy penis into my rectum — We fell rolling and i ejaculated into the soft swamp mud — We lay there panting — Simultaneously we were both attacked by a scalding diarrhea — The burning itch swelled our tongues and lips — Clawing screaming we twisted in water brown with excrement, ejaculating again and again — bone wrenching spasm that popped silver light in our eyes —

July 11? 12? 13? 1862 — Sinking deeper and deeper into sexual deliriums — obsessed by fantasies of hanging and death in orgasm — Once in India i saw a young man hanged — His loin cloth slipped off in the drop and he hung there naked twisting in bone wrenching spasms, ejaculated again and again his feet rustling weeds under the gallows —

We are both emaciated now — The entire pool is brown with our excrement — Is Jimmy really there? — He is turning into a phantom woman with red hair and green flesh — i woke in the moonlight to find — her entwined around my body— She opened her mouth and tendrils covered by stinging red hairs squirmed out penetrating my mouth and throat, feeling into my rectum and penis, twisting around the spine touching electric centers of orgasm in the neck that popped silver light in my eyes —
The creature was pointing now to the tie-up rope that trailed from our boat — In a flash i realized that if i followed her obvious suggestion i would be eaten body and soul by the orchid people — i summoned the strength to resist — Tomorrow i will make an attempt to leave the orchid pool —

July 11, 12, 13, 1962 — Present time leads to an understanding of knowing and open food in the language of life — the entire dia through noose in four letter words — It will be seen that “havingness” muttering in the night — Went back other identities — Remember my medium of false identities? — All that links the murders is Game Hate Box — Opponents are future time 1962 — The donar was released folk singer Logos — Uncontrolled flash bulbs popped — It is a grand feeling — Language of virus (which
is
these experiments) really necessary? Message of life written “We have come to eat”? ? —

i have said the basic time to go — Everyone here: knowing officers at the delicate lilt — all dia through noose with just the right shade of absolute need — condition empty but process known as “overwhelming” — Flak holes told him that “havingness” unknown and hostile land — The Cycle of Action: the Cycle of Venus — sickness of hunger — flesh naked for the delicate hit — clear fingers in stale New Zealand — Assailant of sleep in the naked Panama night was such a deal — Shadow passing and transparent lodging is not done abruptly —
Unknown and hostile land
—
we
are all parasites of the area — i have said basic time to go — Wind of morning disintegrates present time —

July 14, 1862 — i woke up in the silent dripping dawn
— i was lying beside the boat and as i watched little grey men played on the deck hoisting invisible sails — They formed a chorus line and danced away into the dawn mist pointing as they faded out to a dangling vine — i got up and stripped leaves and bark from the vine and brewed a tea — i drank the tea from a tin cup— Almost immediately i vomited so violently that my body seemed to crack open — i leaned against the boat panting and gasping — Slowly my whole being fused to incandescent resistance — A young male face of dazzling beauty moved in and i was free of my body — The orchid girl floated over the pool toward me and i rushed her stuttering back sex words that tore her tentative substance like bullets — i caught a final glimpse of her agonized face eaten by caustic slime — A scream faded out in birdcalls and jungle sounds and lapping water —

July 14, 1962 — Present time — “i told you i would come with tower fire — vomited the ghost food moved noose — Four letters at dawn fell apart in ‘havingness’ — muttering absent bodies hanged after being milked of identities — Remember identities swirled through slow motion all that links the green amphibious creature as they rolled future time 1962 — I told you the skin underneath flash bulbs was healed scars — male spirits trapped in dead nitrous flesh — aroused courage to pass without doing picture — i saw now forgotten memory controlling Game Hate Box — Opponents in green mummy get out here — Donar popped — It is a grand feeling — Half-healed scars peeling off these experiments between mutual erections — other flesh flapping through noose” —

“Just remember i was fish smells and absolute need —
condition empty but know the way to overwhelm — Flak holes told him khaki pants shifted ejaculating hostile land — flash of rectums naked in whiffs suddenly clicked to color — Invisible passenger took my skin off in sheets — burned like ice” —

“i told you i would come — Won’t be much screen now — i have said basic time to go — Wind of morning disintegrates present time —”

As the shot of apomorphine cut through poisons of Minraud he felt a tingling burning numbness — his body coming out of deep freeze in the Ovens — Then viscera exploded in vomit — The mold of his body cracked and he stepped free — a slender green creature, his hands ended in black claws covered with fine magnetic wires that extended up the inner arm to the elbow — He was wearing a gas mask to breathe carbon dioxide of enemy planet — antennae ears tuned to all voices of the city, each voice classified on a silent switchboard — green disk eyes with pupils of a pale electric blue — body of a hard green substance like flexible jade — back brain and spine burned with blue sparks as messages crackled in and out —

“Shift body halves — Vibrate flesh — Cut tourists” —

The instructions were filed on transparent sheets waiting sound formation as he slid them into mind screens of
the planet — He put on his broken body like an overcoat — Silent and purposeful under regulating center of the back brain, he went into a bar and stood at the pinball machine, his hard green core sinking into the other players writing the resistance message with magnetic wires — The machine clicked and tilted in his hands, electric purpose cutting association lines — Enemy plans exploded in a burst of rapid calculations — Vast insect calculating machine of the enemy flashed the warning —

“Combat troops in the area” —

Combat troops to fight the Insect People of Minraud for control of this planet — Crab guards gathered around the machine, sliding forward to feel with white-hot claws for the human spots of weakness opened up by The Green Boy of the Divide Line — The crab guard was not finding the spots — He pressed closer breathing the dry heat of Minraud, while flying scorpion men sank stingers into empty flesh, injecting the oven poison — Too late the crab guard saw the jade body and the disk eyes pounding deep into his nerve centers — The eyes converged in a single beam forcing the guard back like a fire hose — The pressure suddenly shut off as the eyes vibrated in air hammer synchronization — pounded the guard to writhing fragments —