ERINA HARRIS

The following is a short selection from the piece originally published on pages 17-26 of Issue 26.4.

 

 

THE TRUE AND AMAZING CHRONICLES OF BLACK BETTY AND JOHNNY WILDCARD

by

Erina Harris

 

This one is for Jonny.

Now let’s get this straight:

Nope–Jonny ain’t Johnny (as above):

Jonny–No–H, the one whose arms hold good.

• • •

 

"Sometimes talking to each other is as difficult as dying."

–Marguerite Duras

In The Beginning

In The Beginning, there is Black Betty. No one else. Betty goes for walks alone so’s she can say to the moon (who is a dirty slut, really), she can tell that bitch of a moon:

"Moon – see? – see! – I still go for walks alone? This one’s gonna be different Moon. I will not even take off the gloves. This one won’t sink below sea level. Got my crown on so you can just piss off then. So you can just give me some peace will you!"

Black Betty the Blasphemous, Black Betty, Queen of Hearts. Gonna do it this time this time this time she gonna do it. Will not go down for the count, it will not take her down swinging, take her with it, knock her out, no sitting duck, nosirree. Nothing is going to get the best of her this time. No swoons no chandeliers. Not one mention then of words that start with "L" not even linguini, leopard skin, l’amou – shhhh!

In this volume there is no cupid’s driveway, Mister Highball, King of Dreams, thank you very much. Nada. Nein schpatzi. Nyet. No bouquet to catch in the throat.

"Who said, anyway – all you need’s a black dress, penknife (with corkscrew) and someone’s wallet – right?"

This time there will only be the Masterpiece, a Masterpiece to emerge, and finely, alongside the rugged palms, hers, history to be recreated by the deliberate machinations of rugged palms. The sight of a woman sleeping in the middle of the bed, one hand between her legs, one still stuck in the pages. The Queen in fishnets on the chessboard who gone pawned her wimple on a whim. To flirt with dirty brides.

Betty has a mother who would give her fine strange daughter a frock, some extinct dress she has not worn since 1969 for such an occasion; Betty is also in possession of a father who might be seen to look up from building ships on the insides of bottles, might look for her through the glass, in an instance such as this.

While looking over her shoulder after the salt, Betty, to coolly observe her own footsteps as they too miss her. While the broken childhood and all the lovely rogues lean in to watch.

Rhinestones will come for her. So, to learn to live inside the roll of the dice. Might even reserve her right to yell out the wrong name at the right time.

This time around? When the moonlit mermaid tattooed on his arm lifts the anchor, throws it down so quiet neither of them can hear well it won’t matter none nope not one bit ’cause this time it’s all hers.

• • •

 

"A ghost is a suicide

The drooling apostle hangs from a fig tree

Love is riding on dice."

–Guillaume Apollinaire

V–The Legend of Sleepy Hollow

Betty says: Johnny?

J: Ya, Bet?

B: You awake?

J: Sounds like it doesn’t it?

B: You know what I mean.

J: I’m awake, ya, Bet.

B: Johnny, you know what it’s like?

J: Well, no I do not.

B: Johnny – it’s like sometimes the bed’s just so full of ghosts that I can’t get any peace – not even one wink!

J: Ghosts, sweetness?

B: You know. You got Minh and I got, well you know who I have – it’s like I have a whole frigging wheelbarrow to truck around. You poor fucker. Sure got your hands full hangin’ with me! And not to even mention the Real Dead People following us around. Jesus – I wouldn’t even want to count them! So what do you think about that? . . . Johnny? . . .Well I suppose I should at least be pleased that you can relate to having all these extra arms and legs in the bed with me. Shit – you’d probably like that wouldn’t you! Johnny?

Like the ghosts can’t make it alone, without us. Betty and all the ghosts pause. The ghosts all waiting for Betty to take the lead. If Betty finds it funny, then it is funny.

Johnny waits with the sheet over his head making owl noises. He too waits for the verdict.

Betty says: That’s not exactly funny, you know, Johnny. It’s not exactly not-funny. Just not especially real funny right now.

• • •

 

 

 

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