War/Peace. Matthew Vandenberg
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Beautiful"? The kid was always happy because of his ignorance.'
'Of course,' Adrian says.
'And there's another thing,' I continue. 'You're right, if awareness that you will one day die is in the back of your mind then you'll look for ways to increase your self-esteem. But if awareness that you will one day die is at the front of your mind, and so you're consciously aware of this, then you're more likely to defend your own cultural beliefs. See what I mean? This means that we'll be defending our northern beliefs, and Shelly and Jerri will be defending their southern beliefs, and we'll be arguing in no time. I'm a peace-maker, Adrian. We gotta do whatever we can to prevent arguments, especially later on when more people will be in here.'
'Totally,' Adrian says. 'Sure. I won't mention the theory.'
'But the tan thing is good,' I say. 'Shelly's high, right?'
'She ate a few shrooms,' Adrian says. 'Yeah, I'd say so.'
'The thought of death is in the back of her mind, not the front - so to speak. This means she's looking for ways to increase her self-esteem. So all we do is paint the perfect picture, a picture as fine as the German goddess Lorelei. Do you know the legend, by the way?'
'There's a legend?'
'Never mind. It's just: a goddess by the name of Lorelei is said to have lured German sailors to their death with her sweet, mystic voice. And she was apparently later betrayed by some guy or something and jumped to her death. Shaun knows the tale, he'll tell you more. Anyway, what we gotta do is adopt a strategy used by the Nazis, and define beauty in the way white supremacists do . . .'
'What?' Adrian says. 'Are you high as well?
'Hear me out,' I say. 'White supremacists are the worst nutters imaginable, certainly not peace-makers. I ain't saying we become frickin' Nazis. I'm just saying that we can promote their idea of beauty to girls such as Shelly and Lorelei who are addicted to the sun. It's twisted logic, but these girls believe in God and an afterlife anyway. Fact is, of course, that the color of your skin has no bearing on your beauty, we all know that. But these girls believe that a tanned complexion is beautiful - just as many Indian girls believe fair skin is beautiful - so we gotta fight fire with fire . . .'
'And Lorelei's German,' Adrian says. 'Big blue eyes, pale skin.'
'Exactly,' I say. 'We've got ourselves a prototypical white girl, a perfect specimen. Only one of many of all colors, but a perfect specimen none the less. We convince Shelly that she looks like Lorelei - which she does - and we teach her to be proud of her body. Coz I reckon she ain't.'
'Are you guys done chatting?' Shelly asks.
'Yeah,' I say. 'Just trying to figure out what to make for dinner.'
'Come lie down with us,' Shelly says. 'The ceiling is so colorful.'
'No no,' Adrian says. 'Jackson here was just telling me about how he and Lorelei met.'
'Oh no,' I say.
'Yeah,' Adrian says. 'You can tell Shell, dude. Who cares? We're in the house bro.'
'Ok,' I say, walking into the living room. 'She was with Matt.' - I shrug - 'And . . . she liked me: still does it seems. That's why she's finally coming to my joint. You see, she would never come to me. I always had to go to her. I was living in Point Clare at the time so I don't blame her. I had to meet her on her route from the city of Bondi to Matt's joint, every Wednesday night.' - I smile - 'We were vamps, walking around at night. We would always just happen to bump into each other. I'd smell the salt on her breath, the Bondi air which had passed through her sweet lungs, I'd smell her perfume: she'd spray some on just before reaching the meeting point, fresh watermelon. She was like a ghost, a composite of Christina Ricci and Casper: I always picked her out from afar, given her skin was the color of a street light. It still is. Have you seen the picture?'
'Shaun's looking at it,' Shelly says.
'Shaun, give us the pic,' I say. 'This girl is beautiful. Magnificent. An angel. I don't think she ever realized just how beautiful she was. That's what I can't understand. There are so many stunningly beautiful girls out there who don't know it. They make my heart skip a beat when they pass me in the street. Then they'll turn up at my joint; they'll be crying coz their husbands have left them, or coz guys have looked through them, as though they're ghosts, and they are but they're perfect ghosts; they're white like large irises, cute, fine, perfect, and have lashes like lips, full and thick, and they'll touch you so gently, as though their arms are lashes. It's like they're virgins when they come to see me; they've never before felt like they do when they're with me. That's why they return.' - I smile and exhale - 'And I feel just as good. And that's really important.' - I sit down next to Shelly - 'I feel really good. I feel worth millions. That's why I've got such high self-esteem. I don't wanna be a role model. I ain't saying it works for everyone, but it sure as hell works for me.'
'The body is a work of art,' Shaun says. 'And maybe God designed it, whatever. Fact is: it's a work of art.'
'Yeah,' Shelly says. 'Some bodies are real nice.'
'Like yours,' Chloe says, stretching. 'Shell, ever had a stomach ache at night, while sleeping?'
'What's that got to do with anything?' Adrian says.
'Yeah,' Shelly says. 'Well, I've woken up before with a tummy ache. Usually when I need to go to the toilet.'
'Chloe, what the . . . ?' Shaun says. 'I can see toilets now, twenty of them. You're messin' with my mind.'
'Look: it's dawn, you're in bed, you were deep underdream, a deep sea diver, and now you're ready to come up for air. But you rise then fall, rise then fall, taking short, stiff breaths of consciousness: still not fully awake and fully aware. And this pain you feel, you have no idea it's a tummy-ache, you think the pain is mental, you're thinking about a problem to which you already have a solution but the pain is causing you to believe this is the most challenging problem you have ever had to solve. And you toss and turn as you think and think, just as you might about the question of God, how the universe began, the size of the universe, and you think and think but your mind does not go numb. Instead, it's a raging river of thoughts: the sea is turbulent and waves like the sheets you're lying on. You ponder, you wonder, you strain your brain, and you're in pain. You wake and you realize that you just need to go to the toilet . . .'
'What the hell are you talking about Chloe?' Jerri asks.
'The time I lost my virginity,' Chloe says, shrugging. She smiles.
'I'm looking forward to meeting Lorelei,' Shelly says. 'She sounds nice.'
'Lorelei,' Shaun says. 'Rolls off the tongue.'
'Chloe,' Chloe says. 'Shoots off the tongue.'
'Jackson: you have – just – the biggest bloody scar on your face,' Shaun says. 'As big as a mushroom . . .'
'Makes me look like Seal don't it?' I say, sitting down.
'How'd you get it?' Chloe asks.
'A razor blade,' I say, shrugging.
'A fight?' Adrian asks. 'Who with?'
'Not a fight,' I say. 'I took a blade to my cheek.' - I shrug – 'It's for the clientele, of course. I know some chicks from Africa who dig this shit, and I ain't never got complaints from other girls.'
'Does it heel?' Shelly asks.
'Yeah, that's what I don't know,' I say. 'I learnt the hard way that puttin' out cigarettes on your body ain't wise coz the scars are permanent. But girls don't gotta do this, that's why you lot are so lucky, the female is not required to look tough. In fact, make-up is not even essential, if you've got the looks of Lorelei, or you, Shelly.'
'Thanks,' Shelly says. 'But what are you talking about, dating?'
'Yeah,' I say, shrugging. I shake my head. 'Dating, why not?'
'He's talking about taking pride in your body,' Chloe says. 'Ever been to MardiGras?'
'Of course she ain't,' Adrian says. 'She's a Catholic!'