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Show •276 but Jesus! I stopped the car and leaned my head on the wheel. Horrible, Jacob said. A good word, a mouth-filler. But only that: a word. The actual emotion was something of a different kind. When a truly bad feeling comes you should open yourself and let it sweep through you, not fight it. On this the pop psychologists and Father Ragni see eye to eye-let the flood of feeling find its own channels, resign yourself. Ragni would add prayer but that's not my style. This one coming up now in me was one white whale of a feeling; blank-faced and ferocious, it came from somewhere around my crotch and moved upward, rolling up everything in its path. I must be fighting it, I thought. So relax, Buckdancer. 3e resigned. Let it come, this uglier than ugly blank white wall, this frightful whiteness. This mask. More than that, be grateful for it. God help us, I thought. Let Your Will be done. Even if I don't believe in You very much. Relax. My stomach hurt and my legs twitched uncontrollably. My poor father. That he was a gloomy son of a bitch was not completely his fault, maybe. I thought again about him living in the house after Jacob and Kathleen had gone to Denver, with no one but Carlo and Alice: one a little crazy from growing up so smart and the other slipping punches that never came, and jabbing back all the time. I |
