Where Bones Dance: An English Girlhood, An African War

Fancy Dress

283 Fancy Dress T he Yellow Rose is in the garden, laughter comes up from below. They’re playing “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head.” The Yellow Rose is wearing cardboard petals which stand out from his waist like a skirt blown up in the wind, and on his head he has stamens which nod as the Bumble Bee kisses him. Her head goes backward and forward, she’s sticking her tongue in and out of his mouth. He is a prince. She is my mother. I step back off the balcony into my room. My heart is beating very slowly. I walk down the hall to my parents’ bedroom, into their bathroom. I wish I didn’t see. After a while I turn on the light. I look in the mirror. “I’m Jake. My name is Jake.” I watch my lips make the words. “What about him? What about my father? Did he see?” My eyes are sprouting black flames. Downstairs something is happening. They are whistling and clapping and stamping their feet. I see my mother’s face floating on mine, her eyes the same as mine. “My name is Jake. My name is Jake.” He is standing in the doorway. I didn’t hear him. I’m not supposed to be here. He has a yellow turban and his face is colored 284 yellow except where there are lines from his nose to his mouth and around his eyes. The lines are pinky brown where he sweated or laughed or frowned. He has a black patch for his left eye but it is pushed up onto the turban. The thin mustache sticks out in either direction like two black daggers. Around his waist he is wearing my sword and scabbard. He’s a pirate on the Yellow River, which is in China. He’s too tall to be a Chinese pirate. He’s my father. I’m Jake. A sailor on the high seas. He’s not looking at me. His eyes are coated and dull, like Red’s when he gets sick. He’s my father. He opens his mouth but he doesn’t say anything. My belly is aching. He saw her kiss the Yellow Rose. He must have. He says, “Your mother took off her dress at the party. She took off her dress in front of everybody.” He says it over and over. His voice is flat. I want to tell him we can sail away together. I want him to stop saying it. I can see him in the mirror and his eyes are pointing at mine. I turn around. I want to find him something special he can keep. His hands are clenching and loosening, clenching and loosening each time he breathes and the air is thick with whisky, so thick it’s touching me and touching him, is all between us. I’m holding my breath and my heart hurts like when I’m underwater diving for sponges, diving just to see how far down I can get, and right before I turn I grab a handful of sand and as I swim back up it leaks out between my fingers, leaving a grey-brown trail in the clear water. And now his hands are on the back of my head, pushing my face into his pirate trousers. I’m not afraid of the dark. I’m Jake. His voice is very far away. “In front of everybody,” he says. He is shaking. His thing is a stick against my cheek. One hand leaves my head so suddenly I think my head flew backwards but it couldn’t. He pulls it out. That’s how he pees. He is holding it. He doesn’t say anything but I can feel his body shaking like he’s crying. He doesn’t know I’m Jake. My mother knows. He doesn’t know. He pushes it at my lips and I C y c l e 4 open my mouth. He puts it in my mouth. He doesn’t smell like my mother. I’m afraid I’m going to throw up. He’s pushing my head against his belly. The corners of my mouth hurt. I can’t breathe. The thing shivers in my mouth. Something squirts out. He says, “Anna oh Anna oh Anna.” I pull away hard, wriggle down and out. My cheeks are wet. I...