- Calcutta - Auschwitz
It was the full moon. I struggled with my Berlin flu. Summer had
to call her Mom. Money was running out. I called Poland. The boyfriend
vanished. Summer and I were left alone once more. I did the Mahakala
puja while Summer sat quietly nearby. I could see images of black
magic misfiring in Summer's past. She had been wild, transient,
and ambitious. I could see Summer's long and gangling frame from
the corner of my eye. Her strong neck and broad shoulders attested
to the fact that she was a fierce swimmer. So fierce she had broken
her fingers after colliding with the tiled walls of the pool.
Summer's fingers were healed now. She was a loner like me and
was proud of it. I loved her so much; and she knew this. Ours
was an old love that never seemed to fall on barren soil. We were
very proud of this.
I turned around and Summer walked over. She slowly sat down next
to me. Her beautiful toes curled and dug deeply into her legs.
They were also now completely healed. Summer was an enthusiastic
horserider and countless times had her toes broken by horses'
hooves. I gave a throaty sigh and we embraced. I touched Summer's
forehead with my own and the mixing of the subtle energies began.
It was time to prepare my little angel for surgery. I asked the
protectors for help. I could not do this alone. I was taking huge
risks and was now responsible for the two of us. Summer gulped
me up. I drew a deep and secret breath. Our minds and bodies were
now fusing. Our separateness had to temporarily die, in order
for us to heal. A motorcycle rattled off, suddenly, in the distance,
almost like a strange herald. A secret and celestial wedding was
now in progress. "Oh .... such joy," Summer gasped.
Summer and her boyfriend shared their apartment with a tall and
snide Irishman who bounced around and hustled for a living in
an advertising firm. The Irishman was named Minnie and his room
was usually deserted. It was a Saturday and a proper day for delinquent
abandon. Summer, her boyfriend, and I took off for the Stare Mesto
with Minnie. The Stare Mesto is Prague's old quarter. Everything
in Prague reeks of oldness. In fact, the city is one giant and
musty attic, seemingly passed by and left to squirm in dreadful
isolation. Summer seemed to love it. There was a subtle fatalism
in her innermost being, that acted as an anchor and a rudder for
Summer, and all those around her. Unlike her boyfriend, however,
Summer NEVER played the victim. What she preferred was this sweet
loneliness that warmed and nurtured her at every moment.
At the boyfriend's suggestion, we visited the Globe, a hangout
for American expatriates exploring with fear the very absurd notion
that they actually could be writers. I was bored by it all and
asked Minnie about his life in Dublin. "Well, ya see man.
I had these friends and we got together in gangs, ya know, just
to have a little foon and piss around." Minnie was stirring
his cup and enjoying himself. "And, ya see man, there was
dis friend of mine, who we like to make foon of."
Minnie paused for a moment. A nervous look engulfed him. "Are
you all right?" I asked. "I'm fine, man .... it's just
that I'm a little scared right now," he declared. "About
what?" I further probed. "Well, ya see man, my friend
was read'n oop on Freud and told me I was possibly a homosexual."
I smiled. "Do you really think you're a homosexual?"
There was a silence. "Well, I'm just not sure, man."
Minnie moaned worriedly. Summer watched the exchange with deep
absorption. "It seems to me like your friend was getting
back at you." Minnie looked stunned and began to cry. Heat
poured down his hands. "Hey, man I dunno what's happening
.... I feel so ....," he stuttered hurriedly. "Free?"
I asked. "Yeah, man," Minnie croaked. Summer laughed.
So did I. The Guides had come through, yet again. Summer's boyfriend
was nowhere to be seen.
Back at the apartment Minnie and Summer attended the Mahakala
puja. Minnie began drinking from the water bowl, unexpectedly
turning the puja into a strange Eucharist. Summer sat motionlessly
nearby. After Minnie left, Summer put on her white Tshirt and
shorts and jumped into bed; but she was restless and we
both knew that our energies wanted to fuse and start moving. It
was time now for the next phase. I took Summer into the bathroom
and drew the secret breath slowly up my spine, and then forcefully
blew it into Summer's mouth. This was the point of NO RETURN.
Our lungs were furiously mixing our subtle energies now. I was
drawing the vital force from the cosmos and repairing Summer's
etheric body, while sucking in her poisons and spitting them out
into infinity. Summer was almost over-powered by the sheer force
of the new air inside her and gasped wildly. She clung to me tightly
like a small child. "More, please," she begged, "more."
It had been a stunning night. Even Summer's boyfriend had noticed
the change. We had turned on the karmic TV and gone to our past
life in India. Summer, her boyfriend, and I walked out into
the cold and dark Prague evening. Summer had constant circulatory
problems and her hands and feet would often turn ice cold. Her
boyfriend had seen this all before and walked hurriedly with
a smug and confused air of indifference. I rubbed Summer's polar
bony fingers in public. My affection could no longer be hidden.
Summer's boyfriend looked the other way. It was becoming a dreadful
pain to deal with him. He was a nuisance and a pest. My passion
for Summer kept mysteriously dissolving. Like smoke escaping
from a fire. Both Summer and I lived in our minds. We enjoyed
our brain orgasms and constantly offered up our affection to
the Universe. I pushed the button on my camera and discovered
it was stuck. My old recording tool had died. It had captured
Jim, the Old Guy, and countless Lamas and nameless beings. It
had even captured Summer. But now I was in mourning.
We attended a nauseating talent show at a local American hangout
beneath a vegetarian restaurant. Summer openly held her arms
around me; and nuzzled her forehead against mine. It was finally
at this moment that I experienced Summer's latent powers. I
SAW NOTHING but white flashes and almost blacked out. The sorceress
was finally claiming me. Summer's boyfriend tried to grab some
attention by breathing hard and deeply, but only managed to
get sick and start coughing into his nicotine-laced lungs, choking
madly in a funny and delirious way. "EE-YAH, EE-YAH! EE-YAH!"
He was bellowing. It was all a very serious, yet silly sideshow.
I was at a loss for words as I held Summer's hand outside the
restaurant. "Oh, you know, they're all bisexual and I rarely
come here," Summer started to confess. Was my little angel
saying a prayer?
I dreamed a bug dream. Strange colored forms were hatching eggs
under my skin. Summer was asleep on the other bed. She rarely
got up before ten. The Indians were still fucking with me and
I was getting pissed off. They wanted money for a telex to Washington.
They wanted money for a visa. They said it would take a week.
They said they weren't sure their embassy in Washington would
OK a visa. In short, the Indians were behaving like their typical
asinine selves. The mind swarms with gracious welcoming speeches-but
the Indians just want MONEY.
In Moscow, "The White House" was being bombed. Central
Europe was nervous and quaking from this undiscountable fact.
I walked the town of Prague alone. I desperately wanted to get
away from Summer's boyfriend. His vibes were bad and he was trashing
Summer daily behind her back. Ugly and uncomfortable thoughts
stalked me as I wandered into the Jewish quarter of Prague. The
Josefov reeked with dense and suffocating energy. I was coming
home to my roots and I was yearning to talk, to be interrogated,
to be politely asked about all the dead people in the cemetery.
I missed an appointment with Summer's boyfriend on purpose and
shuttled back to the apartment in an anxious and confused mood.
Summer opened the door and was surprised to see me. She was alone
and yet happy to be in my presence. There was a knowing look in
Summer's face that said: I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL.
We sat down and stared at one another. Summer had dark half-circles
under her eyes; they made her look modest and wise. Summer wore
no jewelry of any kind on her bare thin arms. She wore no watch.
Nail polish was alien to her. The only concession to fashion she
made was facial make-up when going out and occasional earrings.
Summer took multiple baths daily to help ease her poor circulation.
"I'm confused," I moaned. "I can't live this double
life." Summer said nothing. She simply gazed right into my
eyes with an amused and expectant look. "I can't stand your
smoking," I continued in a belabored tone. Summer remained
silent. She was waiting for something. I don't remember exactly
how it happened, but somehow Summer found her way into my arms.
We puffed holy breath into one another and slowly smacked each
other on the lips. Summer's icy blue eyes were drilling deep into
my brain. Summer always got what she wanted and then SOME.
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contents of this site © Finberg Books 2000-2004 by Michael Arthur