can't have really come from her, boy; she was no fool in the way ye are." She directed his hand again. "Think again, stupid boy. Think now, if I say ya are to. That girl, ye mother, she lissen to Tituba deep inside. Feel now. Do ya see that is how?"
He shut his eyes. "That is how you pet it."
"Nah, boy. Feel down here, ya dummy boy." She moved his hand onto the goat's underside, then stopped suddenly. Under his hand he felt the animal's heart beating violently. "Ya feel the heart then? Ya feel it pushin?"
"I feel it."
"Ya know who be beatin' that heart, dontcha boy?"
"No... No, I don't," Ezra said, his voice beginning to fail him.
"Now, up here..." She pushed his hand onto the goat's throat. "Ya feel the breathin'? Now, do ya feel that is how?"
He tried not to let the tears that had begun running down his cheeks be heard in his voice. "How? How what? I don't...understand."
She shook her head sadly. Suddenly she grabbed his hand as tightly as she could and pinned it hard against the goat's throat. Ezra pulled back, but his muscles seized and turned against him. His desperation strangled his words, made him mute, and he now wished for the scream he had fought off moments before. Moving his hand in slow circles around the throat, she began to massage it. The beast pulled away from them, as if it too had suddenly become afraid of what was coming. But the old woman grabbed it quickly with her free arm, too quickly, and with strength not properly belonging to a woman her age, and still holding Ezra against her, she pulled the goat even closer to them and continued to move his hand in even circles across its fur. Unable to break free the goat started to struggle for breath, and then began gagging violently. It threw its head back and forth and made strange sounds, as if it were about to vomit. It trembled against his hand while the powerful arms of the black woman held it, and him, pressed against each other. And then, from some cavern hidden within the goat's stomach, the sound came again, as it had to his mother after she had blown out her candle that night he had seen her in his sleep. Up through the animal entrails, through the throat and out its mouth the river of sound poured into the air that surrounded them. There it stood still for a moment, then rose in pitch and began to quiver expectantly in waves and lines that enclosed them. The swollen song began to steal a pulse from the earth that drew a second set of liquid walls back in on them. The closing shape swayed slightly, like lines of water in a gentle wind. Sure that the ghost-music would surround and swallow him, Ezra pulled the goat closer. The old woman placed her mouth beside his ear. "Ya feel now boy?" She spoke quietly, calmly, and pressed his hand against the goat's throat again. "Now ya feel that heart, that breath, that sound? Ya feel that is how?"
"How? How what?" he asked desperately.
"That is the way something is consuming you, boy."
The bus was moving when he woke up. He was uncomfortably warm and could not make sense of where he was. The laughter and loud words on the bus crowded in on him while he struggled, in that curious transition between sleep and wakefulness, to discern whether or not what had happened in his dream had in fact "happened". Flustered, he ran his hand over his face, hot with embarrassment, and felt the imprint of the seat pressed into his skin.
"Finally woke up, eh?" K.J. Kalafati said, surprised to see the back of his friend's head in the seat in front of him. "You feel better?"
Right away Ezra was conscious of how painfully empty his stomach felt. "Yeah, a bit."
"You sure you're gonna be able to stay up all night?"
"Yeah, I'll be okay."
As soon as they were all back in their hotel rooms, Ezra quickly left again to be on his own. That morning, just as they were leaving, he had seen a waiter from the hotel bring a platter full of bagels, fruit, and cookies into the lobby. First making sure that no
He shut his eyes. "That is how you pet it."
"Nah, boy. Feel down here, ya dummy boy." She moved his hand onto the goat's underside, then stopped suddenly. Under his hand he felt the animal's heart beating violently. "Ya feel the heart then? Ya feel it pushin?"
"I feel it."
"Ya know who be beatin' that heart, dontcha boy?"
"No... No, I don't," Ezra said, his voice beginning to fail him.
"Now, up here..." She pushed his hand onto the goat's throat. "Ya feel the breathin'? Now, do ya feel that is how?"
He tried not to let the tears that had begun running down his cheeks be heard in his voice. "How? How what? I don't...understand."
She shook her head sadly. Suddenly she grabbed his hand as tightly as she could and pinned it hard against the goat's throat. Ezra pulled back, but his muscles seized and turned against him. His desperation strangled his words, made him mute, and he now wished for the scream he had fought off moments before. Moving his hand in slow circles around the throat, she began to massage it. The beast pulled away from them, as if it too had suddenly become afraid of what was coming. But the old woman grabbed it quickly with her free arm, too quickly, and with strength not properly belonging to a woman her age, and still holding Ezra against her, she pulled the goat even closer to them and continued to move his hand in even circles across its fur. Unable to break free the goat started to struggle for breath, and then began gagging violently. It threw its head back and forth and made strange sounds, as if it were about to vomit. It trembled against his hand while the powerful arms of the black woman held it, and him, pressed against each other. And then, from some cavern hidden within the goat's stomach, the sound came again, as it had to his mother after she had blown out her candle that night he had seen her in his sleep. Up through the animal entrails, through the throat and out its mouth the river of sound poured into the air that surrounded them. There it stood still for a moment, then rose in pitch and began to quiver expectantly in waves and lines that enclosed them. The swollen song began to steal a pulse from the earth that drew a second set of liquid walls back in on them. The closing shape swayed slightly, like lines of water in a gentle wind. Sure that the ghost-music would surround and swallow him, Ezra pulled the goat closer. The old woman placed her mouth beside his ear. "Ya feel now boy?" She spoke quietly, calmly, and pressed his hand against the goat's throat again. "Now ya feel that heart, that breath, that sound? Ya feel that is how?"
"How? How what?" he asked desperately.
"That is the way something is consuming you, boy."
The bus was moving when he woke up. He was uncomfortably warm and could not make sense of where he was. The laughter and loud words on the bus crowded in on him while he struggled, in that curious transition between sleep and wakefulness, to discern whether or not what had happened in his dream had in fact "happened". Flustered, he ran his hand over his face, hot with embarrassment, and felt the imprint of the seat pressed into his skin.
"Finally woke up, eh?" K.J. Kalafati said, surprised to see the back of his friend's head in the seat in front of him. "You feel better?"
Right away Ezra was conscious of how painfully empty his stomach felt. "Yeah, a bit."
"You sure you're gonna be able to stay up all night?"
"Yeah, I'll be okay."
As soon as they were all back in their hotel rooms, Ezra quickly left again to be on his own. That morning, just as they were leaving, he had seen a waiter from the hotel bring a platter full of bagels, fruit, and cookies into the lobby. First making sure that no
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