subrosa: the adventures of bill chase chapter_15

Chapter 15


As was the custom with me, whenever depression ruled one day, euphoria would rein the next day. Instead of everything being a horror, it all appeared strangely wonderful. It was probably as deluded a state of consciousness as depression was. A different way to amuse the bored mind.

It was a Saturday and everybody wanted to be downtown shopping. I wanted to get out of the city to get some air.

"I have never been to a zoo."

"Great idea," Danny said as he left the bathroom.

I stood against the doorframe for another few seconds before deciding not to shave. I emptied my waste before stepping into the shower. The hot water jetting into my face was a sensuous luxury.

"I’m not waiting for you to finish," Lee said when she stepped into the shower with me. "Pass me the soap."

"What do you think I am? A typewriter?"

"Danny said we’re taking you to the zoo."

"It is true. That is where I belong. On display for vicarious thrill mongers."

"But people can’t tell you’re a silly ape by looking at you."

"Thank you."

After we finished breakfast we headed north to the Bloor subway. I heard someone’s radio screeching blues music. The cars crawled along the road slower than we were walking and the drivers thought they could solve the traffic problem by sounding their horns. But all they achieved was noise pollution to go with the air pollution.

"Leave your car at home!" I shouted.

Someone gave me the finger. It surprised me and scarred me. It reminded me of something I did not care to remember.

"Don’t question people’s right to own and drive a car, no matter how stupid it is. They are quite attached to them."

I let myself be amused by the chaotic nature of the city plebeians. It was like a dream.

"Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream," I sang.

"Who’s."

"Who’s what?"

"Who’s what are you guys talking about?"

"I do not know."

"Me too."

I could not follow the relevance of the grunts we were making, grunts we called words. I found it hard to imagine having a brain with such a capacity yet so little understanding and purpose. A brain did not seem to be necessary. Maybe it used to help with survival in some way. It was a paradox that the brain we used to calculate strategies of survival was the same brain that was used to invent methods of murder and various other crimes of man to man. Perhaps even the elimination of all life. Brains were a dangerous thing for fools to play with.

A classic city occurrence performed on one crowded corner. Two police were standing with two empty bottles of alcohol which they had just emptied on the ground. A drunk, misplaced Indian looked as though he was about to cry. The imploring look he gave at the sight of the empty vessels of escape showed how unjust he thought the police officers were.

The policemen smiled. They had the big club behind them. They were the law enforcers. This was the white man’s land now. The five per cent of the Indians that had not been murdered a few years before were expected to act in accordance with the new rules of the raped land. There was no explaining; there was no arresting. There was only the taking away of the poisonous saviour. If there were any woods left, maybe that would be where the Indian could go back to. But he was lost in the city. He was not really even an Indian anymore.

"Poor old guy lost his booze," Danny said.

We did not bother discussing the scene because it had been painted clearly. It was both funny and sad.

"The Indians were here first ‘cause they had reservations," Lee said.

"They are probably wishing they had had reservations about letting the white man take the land," Danny said.

"But it happens. Every nation is murdered by another before they give up their land. It is almost every existing nation’s history. And will likely keep happening in one way or another."

"It may be happening to us now without us knowing it," Danny said. "Murder isn’t the only way. Most of this city is owned by foreign money. Americans and oil shakes."

"And what does it all mean?" Lee asked.

"Who knows. As long as I’m entertained, I don’t care who owns me," Danny said.

"And fed."

We forged our way through the crowds of people and reached the subway. Paying our fare, we took the stairs down to find the east bound train.

There was standing room only until we arrived at the Yonge Street stop. Most of the people left. They wanted to feel the action in the crotch of the city. We sat down together before the mad animals on the outside of the train could push their way through the river of exodus to dive into a seat. Like vultures that have spotted carrion.

We did not say much. Maybe it was more polite to be silent and stare at the advertisements about our heads. Avoid interaction. Another thing to do on subways, of course, was to size up the mental condition of other travellers and try to see inside their brains. This I enjoyed.

It was my first time on the subway. It was fun, but less amazing than I thought it might be. It reminded me of a cattle train. The moving of domesticated animals.

Someone talked about the association they belonged to. It sounded bigoted and stupid to me. There were many associations asking for money on the advertisements throughout the train. Millions of creeds. Millions of religions. Much misconceived self-worth. Looking for differences. Differences that were not relevant.

"The Nonmembership Club. How does that sound? Or maybe, The
Nonmembership Association. That will be my organisation that stands against dumb organisations. We stand for nothing. We will make the world a better place to, what? That is the problem."

"Oh, just a better place. That will do. I’ll join," Danny said. "How much?"

"A dollar or two."

"What are the qualifications for getting accepted?" Lee asked.

"Yes, an organisation has to have some rules and guide lines. Restrictions are very necessary. The masses must be well guided."

"Not just anyone can come in our club," Danny said.

"I know. You must be able to lick a stamp, or have a friend that will do it for you, so that you can send the request for membership to my post office box. If I have one. Of course we are still in the foundation stages yet. Perhaps we need a head quarters."

"Maybe in California. A new cult or club comes out of there every day and always does well."

"Ya," Danny said. "There’s this one that they made up out of a science fiction book where the members have to get brain drained and money drained, then you might get famous and rich because they own half of Hollywood and who knows how many business around the world."

"I’ve heard about them," Lee said. "They want to take over the world government and build a space ship to fly home."

"Ya, something like that."

"I was thinking of an important looking membership card and letting it go at that."

"It’s a fun idea, but people want something more dangerous and hateful. Secret is also a good seller. If you want to throw over a government or something, you’ll get followers."

"It was just a thought."

"Let’s go, boys."

We got out of the subway onto a bus that would take us to the zoo. We travelled through Suburbia which was a pleasant change from downtown. A great amount of space.

After paying our money to get into the zoo, we were greeted by tourist sales traps. Useless plastic garbage from far away countries. Ornaments for shit hoarders to have in their houses. Things to pack if they move. Things they could look at if their television was broken on a Sunday and they could not get it fixed and their neighbours were out so they could not visit their television.

"Observe this feature."

I pointed to one of those red circle signs with the red line through it to indicate it was a ‘do not’ thing they were showing. It was a finger with a piece missing form it and the head of a bear. You were not allowed to let bears bite pieces off your finger. I was glad they indicated that for me. I would never have figured that out for myself.

"Decent!" Danny declared.

Danny purchased a map of the zoo so that we could plan our course.

"I would like to see furry primates," I suggested.

"Okay. Then we’ll go over there and then ober dere or ober dere or maybe." Danny said and pointed on the map.

We walked to the exhibit of screaming baboons. They were well caged in. Some picked at their friend’s heads, while others lay about. Some sat with erections while others screamed over their problems. Their screaming was enough to unnerve most any one. These particular creatures did not appear well balanced. Of course they were in a small cage. People were just as strange when too many of them were trapped together.

"I like to think that I did not evolve from anything similar."

"I wouldn’t want to be in there," Danny said.

"They are quite mad," I added.

"They stink," Lee said.

"They don’t have toilets."

"That could be part of the trouble."

We watched them until Lee lost interest and wanted to see the big cats. We tried to feed the cats catnip which grew just outside their cage. They ignored us.

"Cats are a beautiful animal," Lee mused.

"Powerful and independent. They seem more balanced than most animals. More highly designed."

After we were done watching cats, we saw many other creatures. From wombats to bats to cockroaches to brightly coloured frogs to wolves to rats to snakes to fish to beavers to various birds to polar bears. We even saw two tortoises copulating. The number of different creatures in the zoo was mind-boggling. All imprisoned for the exotic luxury of human entertainment. It did not strike me as at all natural. It was an injustice that we, as humans, had decided to be merciless rulers of this delicately balanced planet. We were not doing well.

"We are going to fuck it up," I blurted.

"What?"

"Nothing."

We came to the top of a hill. With only a second of deliberation, I rolled down the hill. It was great. Spinning disorientation. A new way of being. When I eventually stopped at the bottom, my head was spinning. It took me an enjoyable minute to readjust to my surroundings.

"You started a trend," Danny said when he and Lee got to where I was.

"Huh?"

"Three other people did the same thing when they saw you."

"A cheep high for trippers."

"Maybe we can make it a cult thing and make some real money."

We meandered around until we had to leave at closing time to return to the barren lifeless city. That was not true. There were millions of people, cockroaches in the trillions, rats in the millions, cats, skunks, racoons, squirrels, dogs, gulls, pigeons and who knows what else. All shitting together. It was a jungle with no trees. A cess pool for an ego system. All under the mismanagement of man. It was an open cancerous sore on the fading Earth.

"We should go dancing tonight," Danny said when we stepped into the apartment.

I had hardly noticed the ride home.

"We might have to contrive an attitude for Bill," Lee said.

"What is attitude?" I asked before crashing on the couch.



Mousse and gel, that was what attitude was made of. It would serve a purpose if you thought looking a particular way had any bearing on what you were.

"You look hot," Danny said. "I know how you could make a little extra cash."

"I look contrived. I do not understand the purpose."

"It’s an old ritual to dress up to go out. Dance around the fire."

"Painted faces and head pieces."

"Exactly. Do you want some eye liner and blush?" Danny asked.

"No. I will be too self conscious."

"But you’d make a pretty queen."

"Some other time."

I studied myself in the mirror to see what I looked like. I tried to see me from an outside point of view, trying to take an unbiased look at myself. I did not know whether or not my image fit into my idea of my identity. Mirrors might not have been a wise vanity to indulge in. I knew I was roughly the same person I had always been. Why would I want to change my appearance?

I remembered the first night I was in civilisation, I had broken into a gas station to spend the night. It was the first time I remembered studying myself in a mirror. My hair was longer and I had about six weeks of scruffy beard. I stared into my reflection without flinching. There were countless numbers of ways to see myself. A multitude of strangers. Were all those impressions me? I saw myself as a child and an old man, as a fool and a genius. I saw myself as the bearer of all the world’s joy and I felt the weight of all the world’s pain. I think I liked what I saw. There was much to work with. I was satisfied that I was me, whoever, whatever I was.

The strangers in the mirror were nameless. Names oversimplified things, made them symbolic. But the overalls had a name tag on them that said Bill, so I became a Bill. Duck Bill.

How did I get to the gas station? Walked there. But where from? Space, another dimension. I remembered the pain of entry. I remembered leaving the river. Did it spit me out? Maybe I could have been a fish that evolved rapidly. I might have been on my way somewhere before I ended up here.

The river had sucked out my memory. I could have been with someone. We could have been travelling together on the river. I could almost picture it but the face was hazy, the scene was elusive.

"You going to look at yourself all night or are you coming with us?" Lee asked from the bathroom doorway.

"Huh. What? Was I here long?"

"At least ten minutes that I know of."

"I lost myself into the looking glass."

"And what did Alice discover?"

"I saw a hazy picture of the river."

"Was the rabbit there?"

"Not a rabbit. Another one like me. I think we were coming from somewhere. We might have been going somewhere. But now I am here in front of this mirror with plastic in my hair."

"Shit happens."

"I guess it does."

"Come on, girls," Danny yelled form the front room.

At the club was a line up to get in. I took a look through the door to see packs of creature-type people, suit people and various stereotypes in between. The full spectrum of civilised city dwellers drank beer and smoked cigarettes while they stood around or danced under the flashing lights. The artificial fire.

The building seemed to shake from the pounding of the dance music. The amplified beating of primal chants.

"Don’t stand here. Go to the back of the line." an apish sloth grunted at me with his applied authority.

I wanted to tell him he sounded like a moron, but he probably would not have understood that I was just attempting to make him aware of his condition. I joined
Danny and Lee near the back of the line.

"Pretty crazy in there, eh?" Danny said.

"Coagulated insanity," I replied. "By the way, Lee, you look very delicious."

"Maybe you can eat me later."

"Me too," Danny said.

"Have your ID ready. You won’t get in without proper ID."

The authority ape was bellowing his orders. He pranced up and down the line like a rooster ready to fight. Or bang a chicken.

"I have no ID. What do I need ID for? Is this a secret white supremacist murder meeting, no foreigners allowed?" I said when he came back a minute later to check our ID.

"Good-bye," was his response.

"Moron," I said.

He did not to choose to hear me.

"Fuck ‘em," Danny said. "We’ll go to the Homo Hop or something."

For some reason beyond my awareness, I wanted to get in.

"We could go for a drink somewhere else and come back later. Maybe someone else will be at the door."

"It’s worth a try," Lee said.

What it was worth was debatable but after we had drinks at another bar, we went back.

"Baby!" someone in the line screeched.

"Ken! Honey. How the hell are you, you old slut?" Danny answered.

"Great," he said. "Wrecked as shit."

Danny took me by the arm.

"This is Bill. He’s my date. Keep your hands off him."

"You could share," Ken said with a laugh.

"We’ll see," Danny replied.

"Take a number," Lee said.

"Bill, this is my friend Ken and his friend, ah." Danny started.

"Oh, for fuck sakes. You remember Clyde," said Ken.

"Yes, of course, now I remember. I met you at that party."

We joined them in the line and babbled on about various nothings. In about ten minutes, we got to the door and Mister ID ape did not bother us. He must have received his sedatives. We paid our five dollars and were permitted entrance into the cage. Into the smoky sweat box. Into the sex machine. Into attitude land.

After paying to get in, it was necessary to pay a premium on beer. I could not make myself do it. I had to be careful with money. I had water instead.

"Let’s dance," Danny said as he dragged us onto the dance floor.
I had never done such a thing in front of people. It was primal. It reached back into man’s ancestry. When the music was the right beat, it was easy to slip out of the present into a gyrating delirium.

I did not like most of the music but tried to accept the adrenaline effect, let it control me. I shook into a frenzy.

The heavy songs with grinding guitar were most enjoyable. One told us that the world was a ball of confusion. I thought Evidence was all around me.

After throwing most of my energy into my sporadic, spastic, flipping about, I made my way over to the stairs and up to a table overlooking the dance floor.

"Holy shit," Danny said as he and Clyde sat down with me. I was not aware that they had followed me.

"Sacred excrement," I said.

"So what do you do, Bill?" Clyde asked.

"Breathe, walk, sleep, eat, excrete, dream," I replied. "Nothing special; how about you?"

"He writes poetry and stories," Danny continued for me. "He used to work on a farm out west. He just moved to Toronto. Lee actually found him one rainy night in a bus shelter. She had told me he was coming months ago."

"I write too," Clyde said. "That’s how I make my living. What kind of things do you write? What are you trying to get across?"

"Human absurdities. I am curious how humans conduct their lives."

"How’s that?"

I had the feeling Clyde was playing a game with me. He would make a good interviewer but I did not care to be giving out information. I would rather he talked and gave me information.

"You do not have the impression that humans are absurd?"

"I’ve lived in New York. There were a few odd things to see there. But tell me something a little more specific. Absurd is a little general. I can say the universe is absurd. Why shouldn’t we be absurd?"

"We can and are."

"What makes you think so."

"The things we do and believe."

"So you think religion is not up to par."

"Religion is oppression. Dulling of the senses. Fear, guilt, deception. It is a blanket that protects the weak from their insecurities about the unknown. It is a mind suicide that caries the body safely to the grave years later. It is committing one’s self to a home for the incurable insane. A life cop out. We are in the midst of an immense universe, one of several. What makes people think a human kind of god created the whole thing so there could be humans on one piece of wet rock is beyond me. The universe is here and so are we, that is our connection. To think a creator of all would make humans so that they could worship him, or her, or it, is lost in a not so virtual reality machine. Would, if there was such an inconceivability, a creator of such an immense universe, billions of years old, bake up some barley intelligent primates as an after thought, just a very unbelievably short time ago, to bow and worship his almightiness. Would such a being have an inferiority complex that required our fear and praise? I could not bow to suck a lunatic. Any thing that might be responsible for all of what is, is no kind of being that gives a rats ass what we think about him, her, it. Where are our senses? We have no perspective? Religion is no more han madness. And if you want to ask me if it is not good for old ladies to go to church to feel good, I do not want to hear it. Religion is a lie and very often a thieving, murdering lie." Clyde smiled at my rave.

"You sound somewhat pissed at the whole thing."

"That is how I see it. Why I am so pissed at it, I can not rightly remember."

"Do you have the same trouble with astrology?"

"Are you just bating me to rave?"

"Maybe. But I still would like to hear what you think about it. If you have."

"Astrology is another thin foundation religion. It is all a bunch of conjectures based on wishful daydreaming. Since the dawn of consciousness, a very few years back, man has tried to put meaning to his meaningless existence. Out of myopic megalomaniac delusion, he thought he was the reason for all of being. He thought Earth was the centre of all things. They charted the stars’ movements and thought they had better hang some meaning on the random patterns they contrived to fit what they thought they had seen.

"We are just here on a small planet, somewhere in all of it. One planet among billions and billions of star systems. Our meaning goes no farther than ourselves. The stars tell us nothing. There is nothing to tell. Drawing a few lines between stars that are light-years apart and saying it is a lion or a bull and if they where to be seen when you where born than you would be so and so, is far fetched nonsense. It is manifested meaninglessness. Horoscopes are silly delusions. We are suckers for meaning, purpose and identity. We do not know what we are. Most people are so caught in believing and following creeds that they are never conscious. Believe anything that gets you through the night. Funny soft skinned frightened mutated lizards."

Clyde continued with a rebuttal. He was interesting to talk to. He demanded more and more information from me. He made me think about what I had to say. I had to stay alert to keep up with him. It was a mental workout.

He described something about the apocalypse being with us already, but we were not aware of it because we were drowning in it. I think he was using the theme in a book he was writing. Or was it a friend of his? Or was it both of them working on similar projects? I started losing him. It was something about the eve of destruction. But was it something new? Who were the writers of prophecy? Did their meddling in the future manipulate it? What was destiny? Clyde was explaining something about human nature and I could sense it would soon be time for me to react with a statement. He stopped and waited for a response.

"It is refreshing to meet a stranger who has spent time thinking."

"More people are thinking than you would imagine. You don’t seem too optimistic about humans."

"I have heard it said that man has evolved from a strain of killer apes. Insane killer apes. Killing not just for food, but for sport also. Killing each other out of frustrated boredom and lust for power. Destroying each other in a confused semi-awareness. But I do not believe it. I do not think humans evolved form these killer apes."

"What then?"

"I think they just lost some of their hair."

"Ah, ha."

Danny gave a quiet screech before trying to bite my neck.

"Back you mad ape!"

Danny starter explaining something about his ape theory. The conversation became lighter. He was not interested in explaining metaphysical, philosophical, hypothetical nonsense. His theme was a little more base.

"You want a beer?" Clyde asked.

"Thank you," I answered. "Polar."

"Danny?" Clyde asked.

"Sure, any micro brewery."

Lee and Ken joined us. We drank and talked and laughed through the night. It was the social grunting type of talk. It was not necessary to apply meaning to any of it. It was similar to touching each other; only through speech instead of skin.

When the night had faded out, I found myself back in bed with Lee. We touched each other. Gentle caresses. Like an intimate conversation.



by Joanne B. Washington

read on. chapter_16



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