Dan Hoy

 

OPENING ACT

MEGACHURCH

LAST LIGHT OF BOSCADAR

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

OPENING ACT

 

 

If I simulate sex onstage

only my corporate sponsors feel

 

alienated. And all the parents

and potential parents and

 

anybody who ever had parents

whether they knew them or not

 

whether they know it or not.

Sometimes my signature

 

dance move is to abstract myself

as much as possible. Music

 

is all form is what assholes say.

Ask yourself if youÕre an asshole.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MEGACHURCH

 

 

I was sandwiched between my mom and sister Bethany as per usual and

all I could think of was how long until we break into Sunday School

and Elliot Fisher, fresh from another subsect swallowed up into

our non-denominational catharsis of worship and friendship and family

in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. 3500 bodies filling the pews and hundreds

of thousands tuning in across the country or from one of six satellite

locations on the outskirts of town and on stage at least forty totally stoked

singers and guitarists and bassists and keyboardists and a drummer

pounding away inside a cube of Plexiglass, all with their hands

raised to Heaven or hands busy with facial expressions suggesting hands

and bodies and souls rising up like Elijah himself. All of it

replicated on the three eight meter screens behind them, which retract

when itÕs time to pray and get serious into the converging beams above.

Not that I was really paying attention after IÕd caught sight of Elliot earlier

in that one Penguin shirt that makes his eyes sparkle and turns his tousled hair

into something to write home to God about, and even then Aubrey was

texting me from just on the other side of the mixing desk about the new guy

in charge of the PA system and I was texting her about how Bethany

was texting Julie about the audacious heresy of us texting in church.

Like the time the hotboys who show up late for Sunday School

every week reeking of citrus because they always take an extended

intermissional break in the orange groves making fruit grenades

out of oranges and Mexican firecrackers and throwing them up in the air,

like the time at Skateland when the hotboys were making antiquated

Ôhang looseÕ hand gestures and singing the chorus to ÒOur God

Is an Awesome GodÓ in mocking California surfer intonations and I said

to them, I said ÔYou can infer what you want about your God from that

but you inferred it not me,Õ and even if they didnÕt know the meaning

of the word ÔinferÕ they knew I meant they were going to hell

because shortly thereafter they flung cheese wizzy nacho sauce

all over my favorite adult-looking t-shirt and I had to spend the rest

of the Skateland party in Caleb BlackÕs beige corduroy jacket, which

was both embarrassing and exhilarating. Me and Caleb french kissed later

outside behind the dumpster, the smell of garbage and synthetic

pretzel dipping sauce like an olfactory soundtrack to our waiting

for our parents to pick us up and take us to our respective homes

in their respective SUVs, the same eggshell white color, with

CalebÕs momÕs differentiated by a faded American flag bumper sticker

with the words Òwhen they pry it from my cold dead fingersÓ being

all that was legible of what was once a larger message. I couldnÕt

help but be grossed out by Caleb after that, unable to extricate

him from the memory of that disconcertingly foul combo of smells,

and once he tried to hold my hand when we got stuck together on the bus

ride to Church Camp, which was awesome (the camp not the bus ride),

and I had to tell him point blank that I was so totally not interested.

I think I might have even implied that me and Nora Bishop had

some kind of lesbo thing going on so he would get a clue and realize

there was no chance whatsoever not in hell or anywhere else but

I donÕt really remember what I said just that I wanted him to go away,

which he did, but then Nora Bishop came over to talk about what

we might do for the talent show on the last day of camp and I felt

disturbingly sick, inside and out, like the smell of frenching Caleb Black

was permeating NoraÕs face and the ride to camp and the whole world.

I excused myself to go to the bathroom in the back of the bus just as

James Mingle was coming out of it, not really thinking of how everybody

knew James had Irritable Bowel Syndrome until two seconds later,

with the door closed and the bus lurching into a turn, when it became obvious

that James had just expulsed something irritable to the nth degree.

I barfed all over the bathroom wall before the third second was over.

I could see Caleb sitting six pews up and tried to stare at him without

triggering some kind of psychosomatic burst of projectile vomit.

It was like playing dominoes but like the opposite of playing dominoes.

Caleb alert, I texted Aubrey. Spew in the pew, she texted back, Elain

is groovin. Where, I texted. 2 oclock. I looked five pews up and thirty

seats over and could almost make out the cord connecting an mp3 player

to its earbuds dangling among the long blonde locks of Elaine Montague.

I texted lol and Aubrey texted hahahahahahahahahahahahhahahaha

which made me laugh for real out loud right at the exact moment

when Pastor Jeff had cut the music and was asking all of us to pray

for the local missionaries spreading the word of God in Saudi Arabia.

I had to spend the rest of the primary church service text free,

like I did for a month after I was deemed an accessory to Sebastian Carr

hacking into the GPS feature of Garrett JaneÕs phone so we could

reconfigure the coordinates to make it look like he was at the Taco Bell

with Chastity Allen instead of staying over at Myles VaughnÕs house

like he told his parents. We got him grounded for the whole week

until GarrettÕs little brother Wyatt heard us laughing about it and then

all of us got earmarked for the rest of our unnaturally born lives.

Me and Sebastian and Aubrey and Chase and the other Test Tubers.

Anyway the result of this incident being that I was now in charge

of exchanging my baby brother Tyson for a receipt at the ÔToddler CorralÕ

between services because my parents were into the idea of me being

introduced to fiscal and parental responsibility via one automaton-like task.

I loved Tyson but it was kind of weird checking him at the door like a coat.

Wednesday nights we walked past the eerily vacant Newborn Ranch

on our way to Xtreme Worship in the Fun Room, which, despite

its hum-drum kiddie name and aqua theme, is pretty fun, given that

itÕs filled to the gills with ping pong tables and air hockey and four

PS3s w/ accompanying LCD TVs, one in each corner. It also opens

out through a giant nautilus-shaped doorway onto a grassy knoll

with a trampoline and several equidistant tetherball posts and one

perpetually barren pecan tree, underneath which Chase Hammond

told me he didnÕt want to be my boyfriend or me to be his girlfriend

even though we shared an extra-sensory connection and enhanced

cognitive abilities due to the in vitro modifications made to our DNA.

We were all a little weirded out after Elizabeth Bangs offed herself

with her momÕs painkillers after an extended bout of intrafamilial

intelligence gap induced ennui and made a concerted effort

to look out for each other and provide compensatory solace as needed.

Hence the bimonthly gatherings at AubreyÕs house for games

and such. We all sucked at Trivial Pursuit but rocked the house

at Pictionary and Taboo and other games in which communication

was prioritized over knowledge. Information transfer. We retained

nothing, relatively speaking, but our synapses stretched and curved

with every passing datum. We speculated as to what in GodÕs

Green Earth our mothers were thinking roughly 13 years ago

when they walked into Associated Incorporated and signed a waiver

and received the first of their weekly walk-in office treatments.

We further speculated as to what significance, if any, to assign

to the digital paper trail that Sebastian was able to reconstitute

connecting the no longer extant Asso. Inc. to some obscure client

of the Carlyle Group, the global private equity investment firm

specializing in privatized defense companies and political arbitrage

with its workforce of retired Presidents and Prime Ministers.

We also speculated as to what exactly happened to ElizabethÕs uncle

after he disappeared into a glistening black SUV w/ tinted windows

after making a drunken molesty pass at her the night before.

We speculated without Elizabeth because she died the morning after.

We speculated about the fire fellow Tuber Corey Mills secretly set

to ElizabethÕs house the following day, for unconvincingly pubescent

reasons that continue to confound us and him. We speculated about

CoreyÕs increasing isolation and onset of secondary sex characteristics

and how he freaked out in Sunday School one day after Ms. Topper made

a passing disparaging reference to J.D. Salinger. We also speculated

as to why I overheard Aubrey reciting a sidereal monthÕs worth

of my Google keystrokes in her sleep during the last slumber party,

and what if anything that had to do with how I could accurately guess

what Chase had had for breakfast every morning without resorting

to his breath or flatulence. Or how last week I began to be able

to predict it. Elliot was decidedly not unsettled by these developments

and others and was able to keep up with the Tubers despite his being

new to the area and not as far as we knew one of ÔGodÕs CreaturesÕ,

which was our parentsÕ term for us. ÔLab RatÕ was ElliotÕs coinage.

I couldnÕt quite place his accent but he said heÕs Canadian. Other

than that, he was everything an IVF-conceived girl could want.

Self-assured, witty, industrious, aloof, totally hot, a little dangerous.

I couldnÕt explain the feeling in my chest when he was around, or shake

the feeling that his sparkling eyes knew what I was thinking even when

I didnÕt and that the moon would split in half and careen into the ocean

if our lips ever touched. Church Camp was in two weeks. Lots of

staying up late and moldy bunkbeds and flirting and swimming and

diarrhea and hiking through the woods and chocolate chip pancakes and

teary testimonials around the crackling and hiss and smell of the campfire.

I remember last time my coat smelled like fire for days afterward

and even as every other memory was coagulating into a nonspecific aura

I could still hear the sound of Sebastian breaking down inexplicably

during Millie MitchellÕs trite story about the death of her unborn sister.

The death wasnÕt trite but the telling of it was, but I wondered this time

if Elliot would be sitting next to me and if we would kiss later that night

or if maybe weÕd kissed earlier in the day in the middle of the woods with

the creek nearby and our friendsÕ laughter in the distance and now it was

later and we were sharing a piece of dark together as somebody else sold their

soul to Jesus, crying about the damage done to them or by them or both.

But then the service was over and my mom gave me back my phone

with instructions to not forget my fisco-parental duties. I hooked up with

Aubrey as we headed over to the Toddler Corral to pick up Tyson,

my favorite ball of sunshine, like some non-animatronic stuffed animal

that moves and giggles and so forth, and then it was off to Sunday School,

with Aubrey filling me in on what sheÕd just heard about Elliot via text

from Corey of all people during a moment of testosterone-free lucidity.

But before she even got to what exactly it was she heard she said

ÒShh Shh here he comes act naturalÓ with a horrified look on her face

and I turned around thinking she meant Corey but it was Elliot

strolling over like Christ himself, eyes sparkling with the wind in his hair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LAST LIGHT OF BOSCADAR

 

 

After years of disembodied communiquŽ and shite poems

I got tired of staring at the Kirkwood gap between us, which

meant investing in BabyloniaÕs new wormhole technology,

which meant sporting a vinyl orange jumpsuit and waiting

around a Proctis-like decompression room for hours.

Then the requisite delays due to my cracked, green skin

and cosmic reputation. After years of godbot behavior

I was known for my promiscuous allegiances and disregard

for corporate protocol (like the time I bent a trail of outsourcing

into a galaxy-wide closed circle of self-generating surplus)

and also for the bud of whatÕs left of your replicated voice

coiled around my cochlea, the Holovisor tilted away

from any incoming light (like the distant sun bouncing off

the nearest Reflector), eliminating the glare interfering

with the TrueVisage contours and texture of your bodyface

on continual loop, superimposed over the planetesimal debris

coloring the sky above the ruins of Donna Centaura.

The visor is for geeks and perverts but what can you do.

Like the other temps-turned-godbots I came to Babylonia

to turn my fortune-turned-fame into something more

physically nonlocal. To step out of our pressurized suits

and expose our bodies to the vacuum of space for 14 seconds

without our tongues boiling. To send our shite poems

back from whence they came instead of out into the void

dispersed at sublight velocities, to compress everything

into the swollen fist pulling your trembling bodyface close

even as it rips free the ionomask holding you hostage

by keeping you alive. If the wormhole opens and closes

as theorized if not promised. Last time I saw you for real

it was on the pink shores of Boscadar, on your knees

decoding the order hidden in the pattern of machines

hurling themselves at the glass dome painted the same color

and contour as the desert facing it, the machines imagining

the neomorphs throwing themselves at the dome painted

the same tint and texture as the vacuum facing it

on the other side of the glass, the neomorphs imagining

the machines imagining the neomorphs imagining the glass

and the pink on the other side of the black, and the machines.

The forced exile and shite poems followed shortly thereafter

as did the bodyface interface and TrueVisage love and

the here-not-here transformation from temp to godbot

leading up to the orange-suited prep for a Krasnikov jump

under the bruised skies of Babylonia. I had nowhere to go

but here, here or bust. No more whining about the inability

of entrepreneurial savvy and a notoriety-induced sense

of being indestructible to embrace the quantum entanglements

keeping us apart. Here at last I would occupy the precise

spacetime coordinates of your actual in the flesh bodyface

in an act of unprecedented macroparticle annihilation.

It was already paid for, like the clouds. All I had to do

was strip down at T-minus however many and counting,

leap naked across the K-fold and try not to hold my breath.