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press out ocher-colored drops that sizzled when they hit the plate
—
     
    Volcano blood! Claimed
     
    the temperature of his body was a continuous 130 degrees and let people
     
    touch his skin for 75 cents
     
    at the back of the tent. So you touched him?
She paused.
Let’s say
—
     
    Herakles bounded in.
     
    It’s your mom. She’s finished yelling at me now she wants to talk to you.
     
     

XIX. FROM THE ARCHAIC TO THE FAST SELF
     
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    Reality is a sound, you have to tune in to it not just keep yelling.
     
     
    ————
     
    He woke fast from a loud wild dream that vanished at once and lay listening
     
    to the splendid subtle ravines of Hades
     
    where hardworking dawn monkeys were wheedling and baiting one another
     
    up and down the mahogany trees.
     
    The cries took little nicks out of him. This was when Geryon liked to plan
     
    his autobiography, in that blurred state
     
    between awake and asleep when too many intake valves are open in the soul.
     
    Like the terrestrial crust of the earth
     
    which is proportionately ten times thinner than an eggshell, the skin of the soul
     
    is a miracle of mutual pressures.
     
    Millions of kilograms of force pounding up from earth’s core on the inside to meet
     
    the cold air of the world and stop,
     
    as we do, just in time. The autobiography,
     
    which Geryon worked on from the age of five to the age of forty-four,
     
    had recently taken the form
     
    of a photographic essay. Now that I am a man in transition, thought Geryon
     
    using a phrase he’d learned from—
     
    door hit the wall as Herakles kicked it open and entered carrying a tray
     
    with two cups and three bananas.
     
    Room service,
said Herakles looking around for a place to set the tray down.
     
    Geryon had moved all the furniture
     
    up against the walls of the room.
Oh good,
said Geryon.
Coffee.
     
    No it’s tea,
said Herakles.
     
    My grandmother is in Argentina again today.
He handed Geryon a banana.
     
    She was just telling me about the electricians.
     
    You know you have to pass an examination to get into the electricians’ union
     
    in Buenos Aires but all the exam questions
     
    are about the constitution. What do you mean the human constitution?
     
    No the constitution of Argentina
     
    except the last one. The last constitution? No the last question on the exam
—
     
    guess what it is you’ll never guess. Guess.
     
    No.
     
    Come on. No I hate guessing. Just one guess come on Geryon just one.
     
    What time of day did Krakatoa erupt?
     
    Great question but no.
He paused.
Give up?
Geryon looked at him.
     
    What is the Holy Ghost?
     
    That’s it? That’s it. What is the Holy Ghost—a truly electrical question!
     
    as my grandmother put it.
     
    Herakles was sitting on the floor beside the bed. He drained his teacup
     
    and regarded Geryon.
     
    So what time of day did Krakatoa erupt? Four
a.m
.,
Geryon said pulling the quilt
     
    high up under his chin.
     
    The noise awakened sleepers in Australia three thousand kilometers away.
     
    No kidding how do you know that?
     
    Geryon had found the
Encyclopaedia Britannica
(1911 edition) in the basement
     
    and read the Volcano article.
     
    Should he admit this? Yes.
Encyclopedia.
Herakles peeled a banana.
     
    He seemed to be thinking.
     
    So your mom was pretty angry last night.
Geryon said
Yes.
Herakles ate
     
    half his banana. He ate the other half.
     
    So what do you think? What do you mean what do I think?
Herakles placed
     
    his banana peel on the tray
     
    and straightened the parts of it carefully.
Think you should be getting back?
     
    Geryon was chewing
     
    a mouthful of banana and didn’t quite hear. This sentence is important for you,
     
    said a little lulled voice inside.
     
    What? I said there’s a bus every morning at nine or so.
Geryon was trying
     
    to breathe but a red wall
     
    had sliced the air in half.
And what about you? Oh I’ll be staying