from anything because I don’t believe in anything,” Haze said.
He and the driver looked at each other for about a minute. Haze’s look was the more
distant; another plan was forming in his mind. “Which direction is the zoo in?” he
asked.
“Back around the other way,” the driver said. “Did you exscape from there?”
“I got to see a boy that works in it,” Haze said. He started the car up and left the
driver standing there, in front of the letters painted on the boulder.
CHAPTER 5
That morning Enoch Emery knew when he woke up that today the person he could show
it to was going to come. He knew by his blood. He had wise blood like his daddy.
At two o’clock that afternoon, he greeted the second-shift gate guard. “You ain’t
but only fifteen minutes late,” he said irritably. “But I stayed. I could of went
on but I stayed.” He wore a green uniform with yellow piping on the neck and sleeves
and a yellow stripe down the outside of each leg. The second-shift guard, a boy with
a jutting shale-textured face and a toothpick in his mouth, wore the same. The gate
they were standing by was made of iron bars and the concrete arch that held it was
fashioned to look like two trees; branches curved to form the top of it where twisted
letters said, C ITY F OREST P ARK. The second-shift guard leaned against one of the trunks and began prodding between
his teeth with the pick.
“Ever’ day,” Enoch complained; “look like ever’ day I lose fifteen good minutes standing
here waiting for you.”
Every day when he got off duty, he went into the park, and every day when he went
in, he did the same things. He went first to the swimming pool. He was afraid of the
water but he liked to sit up on the bank above it if there were any women in the pool,
and watch them. There was one woman who came every Monday who wore a bathing suit
that was split on each hip. At first he thought she didn’t know it, and instead of
watching openly on the bank, he had crawled into some bushes, snickering to himself,
and had watched from there. There had been no one else in the pool—the crowds didn’t
come until four o’clock—to tell her about the splits and she had splashed around in
the water and then lain up on the edge of the pool asleep for almost an hour, all
the time without suspecting there was somebody in the bushes looking at her. Then
on another day when he stayed a little later, he saw three women, all with their suits
split, the pool full of people, and nobody paying them any mind. That was how the
city was—always surprising him. He visited a whore when he felt like it but he was
always being shocked by the looseness he saw in the open. He crawled into the bushes
out of a sense of propriety. Very often the women would pull the suit straps down
off their shoulders and lie stretched out.
The park was the heart of the city. He had come to the city and—with a knowing in
his blood—he had established himself at the heart of it. Every day he looked at the
heart of it; every day; and he was so stunned and awed and over whelmed that just
to think about it made him sweat. There was something, in the center of the park,
that he had discovered. It was a mystery, although it was right there in a glass case
for everybody to see and there was a typewritten card over it telling all about it.
But there was something the card couldn’t say and what it couldn’t say was inside
him, a terrible knowledge without any words to it, a terrible knowledge like a big
nerve growing inside him. He could not show the mystery to just anybody; but he had
to show it to somebody. Who he had to show it to was a special person. This person
could not be from the city but he didn’t know why. He knew he would know him when
he saw him and he knew that he would have to see him soon or the nerve inside him
would grow so big that he would be forced to steal a
He and the driver looked at each other for about a minute. Haze’s look was the more
distant; another plan was forming in his mind. “Which direction is the zoo in?” he
asked.
“Back around the other way,” the driver said. “Did you exscape from there?”
“I got to see a boy that works in it,” Haze said. He started the car up and left the
driver standing there, in front of the letters painted on the boulder.
CHAPTER 5
That morning Enoch Emery knew when he woke up that today the person he could show
it to was going to come. He knew by his blood. He had wise blood like his daddy.
At two o’clock that afternoon, he greeted the second-shift gate guard. “You ain’t
but only fifteen minutes late,” he said irritably. “But I stayed. I could of went
on but I stayed.” He wore a green uniform with yellow piping on the neck and sleeves
and a yellow stripe down the outside of each leg. The second-shift guard, a boy with
a jutting shale-textured face and a toothpick in his mouth, wore the same. The gate
they were standing by was made of iron bars and the concrete arch that held it was
fashioned to look like two trees; branches curved to form the top of it where twisted
letters said, C ITY F OREST P ARK. The second-shift guard leaned against one of the trunks and began prodding between
his teeth with the pick.
“Ever’ day,” Enoch complained; “look like ever’ day I lose fifteen good minutes standing
here waiting for you.”
Every day when he got off duty, he went into the park, and every day when he went
in, he did the same things. He went first to the swimming pool. He was afraid of the
water but he liked to sit up on the bank above it if there were any women in the pool,
and watch them. There was one woman who came every Monday who wore a bathing suit
that was split on each hip. At first he thought she didn’t know it, and instead of
watching openly on the bank, he had crawled into some bushes, snickering to himself,
and had watched from there. There had been no one else in the pool—the crowds didn’t
come until four o’clock—to tell her about the splits and she had splashed around in
the water and then lain up on the edge of the pool asleep for almost an hour, all
the time without suspecting there was somebody in the bushes looking at her. Then
on another day when he stayed a little later, he saw three women, all with their suits
split, the pool full of people, and nobody paying them any mind. That was how the
city was—always surprising him. He visited a whore when he felt like it but he was
always being shocked by the looseness he saw in the open. He crawled into the bushes
out of a sense of propriety. Very often the women would pull the suit straps down
off their shoulders and lie stretched out.
The park was the heart of the city. He had come to the city and—with a knowing in
his blood—he had established himself at the heart of it. Every day he looked at the
heart of it; every day; and he was so stunned and awed and over whelmed that just
to think about it made him sweat. There was something, in the center of the park,
that he had discovered. It was a mystery, although it was right there in a glass case
for everybody to see and there was a typewritten card over it telling all about it.
But there was something the card couldn’t say and what it couldn’t say was inside
him, a terrible knowledge without any words to it, a terrible knowledge like a big
nerve growing inside him. He could not show the mystery to just anybody; but he had
to show it to somebody. Who he had to show it to was a special person. This person
could not be from the city but he didn’t know why. He knew he would know him when
he saw him and he knew that he would have to see him soon or the nerve inside him
would grow so big that he would be forced to steal a
Similar Books
