The Test, and: The Sinners, and: The Insurrectionist

Th e Te s t "This is a test; this is only a test. ..." Let me tell you about my God: Mr. Do Unto Others who did unto me what I wouldn't do unto a dog; Mr. Boil, Mr. Smite, Mr. Negative Reinforcement—for whom I rolled over, sat up, and fetched like each ofhis dropkicks was horsemeat; like each of the hot licks he beat on my skull was a baffling pat of affection. What did I do to deserve what I got from my Lord, Mr. Provivisection ? Where did I err in obedience school that my staying and heeling were flunked, that my reverent yip ofpraise was assayed as the snarl ofa quarrelsome mutt? What rug did I wet? What scroll did I trash to be scolded and lashed to a tree around which I became so wound 58 * ROCKY MOUNTAIN REVIEW * SPRING 1998 its bark took a bite out of me? See: my only aim was to please; in pleasing, to worship the strange Mr. Just, who giveth and taketh away what he gave according to ground rules I couldn't dig up. Wouldn't dig up, as Jehovah's my witness, who watches me constantly cringe in his fields, alert to the slightest flight ofhis glance, the terrible dance of his thunderous heels. If meat is die matter, my bone on his platter. Ifsacrifice, here, my belly I bare. Iffealty, look at me pointing impeccably, almost an effigy, ear ever cocked for the voice of my Master, Mr. Disaster, to vouchsafe my pass through his storm and his dark. JlM SlMMERMAN SPRING 1998 +ROCKY MOUNTAIN REVIEW * 59 Th e Sinners We were all players. We were all pimps, punks, tricks, or whores. Even the beggars with their homemade stumps and sores selfinflicted were on the grift; even the poor, whose angle it was to tangle themselves inextricably in the sticky web of the streets, feeding off the trickle-down oftable scraps and cracked bones: for the truly hungry, easy meat. Sweet pickings also for scribes and Pharisees, fattening their coffers on bribes and the tithing ofmarks made brutestupid in their harkening to fixed verdicts and false decrees rolled out daily like loaded dice. As for me, it was my fortune and privilege to lead the double-life of the well-endowed; to be, at once, the proud and proper daughter ofone whose patronage and renown permitted his hand ample access to the pocket ofthe state, and to be—at my pleasure, and far from the halls ofmy father—the archangel of the city's night: stark and radiant Salome. Though expensive, I was free widi my favors once purchased. Men were born again in my bed. Marriages dead for years were resuscitated by die mouthto -mouth I applied, the delicate tunes I blew into the reeds of the husbands,«0 * ROCKY MOUNTAIN REVIEW * SPRING I 99 1 die carnal cartography in which I schooled the wives. I thrived on desire and the fires I kindled, if not widiout cost, blazed like miracles in the cold temples ofthe appointed, their loins anointed with the oils of their lust. Who did not seek me out among those born ofwoman? Priests and prophets I held in my arms, taught them to pray to the sway ofmy hips while my lips stole them wholly away from their gods. Even die smug one who chastened my mother, the self-proclaimed baptist, paid me a call, making me promise to keep his name secret in exchange for the promise of untold reward. "From my Lord," he said, winking an eye as he took me— the bastard—for free, deprived me ofwhat was rightfully mine in accordance with law and the custom of thieves. His deceit, I have to admit, was complete: a confidence game for heaven's sake. I could have forgiven his quick spurt of passion for a piece of the action, a cut of the take. "Make me an offer," I said to him later. "Show me the face ofyour Lord." Silent, he looked first into, then through me—his eyes like cast stones—and I knew him for what he was: a sinner like me, but so blessed...