Ray

XXXIII

ELEMENTS of protein float in. B-12 for sanity, vegetables, and Oscar, the mysterious warrior that sails in the bloodstream. Can be cancer or the warrior against cancer. I’m dreaming of this. I’m dreaming of the day when the Big C will be blown away. I’m dreaming of a world where men and women have stopped the war and where we will stroll as naked excellent couples under the eye of the sweet Lord again. I’m dreaming of the children whom I have hurt from being hurt and the hurt they learn, the cynicism, the precocious wit, the poo-poo, the slanted mouth, the supercilious eyebrow.

Then I wake up and I’m smiling. Westy asks me what’s wrong.

“Christ, darling, I just had a good dream, is all.”

“I’ll bet it was some patient you screwed. You rotten bastard.”

She hits me over the head with a pillow.

Violence.

Some days even a cup of coffee is violence.

When I can find my peace, I take a ladder to the hot attic and get out the whole plays of Shakespeare.

Okay, old boy. Let’s hear it again. Sweat’s popping out of my eyes, forehead.

Let’s hear it again. Between the lines I’m looking for the cure for cancer.