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Henderson the Rain King - Saul Bellow [34]

By Root 2789 0
stood up stiffly with indigo; she looked like a very happy and pampered person, the baby of the family perhaps, and she shone and sparkled with fat and moisture and her flesh was puckered or flowered like a regular brocade. At the hips under the flowing gown she was as broad as a sofa, and she too took my hand and placed it on her breast, saying, "Mtalba. Mtalba awhonto." I am Mtalba. Mtalba admires you. "I admire her, too," I told the prince. I tried to get him to explain to the queen that the coat which she had now put on was waterproof, and, as he seemed unable to find a word for waterproof, I took hold of the sleeve and licked it. Misinterpreting this she caught and licked me as well. I started to let out a shout. "No yell, sah," said Romilayu, and made it sound urgent. Whereupon I submitted, and she licked me on the ear and on the bristled cheek and then pressed my head toward her middle. "All right, now, so what's this?" I said, and Romilayu nodded his bush of hair, saying, "Kay, sah. Okay." In short, this was a special mark of the old lady's favor. Itelo protruded his lips to show that I was expected to kiss her on the belly. To dry my mouth first, I swallowed. The fall I had taken while wrestling had split my underlip. Then I kissed, giving a shiver at the heat I encountered. The knot on the lion's skin was pushed aside by my face, which sank inward. I was aware of the old lady's navel and her internal organs as they made sounds of submergence. I felt as though I were riding in a balloon above the Spice Islands, soaring in hot clouds while exotic odors arose from below. My own whiskers pierced me inward, in the lip. When I drew back from this significant experience (having made contact with a certain power---unmistakable!--which emanated from the woman's middle), Mtalba also reached for my head, wishing to do the same, as indicated by her gentle gestures, but I pretended I didn't understand and said to Itelo, "How come when everybody else is in mourning, your aunts are both so gay?" He said, "Two women o' Bittahness." "Bitter? I don't set up to be a judge of bitter and sweet," I said, "but if this isn't a pair of happy sisters, my mind is completely out of order. Why, they're having one hell of a time." "Oh, happy! Yes, happy--bittah. Most bittah," said Itelo. And he began to explain. A Bittah was a person of real substance. You couldn't be any higher or better. A Bittah was not only a woman but a man at the same time. As the elder Willatale had seniority in Bittahness, too. Some of these people in the courtyard were her husbands and others her wives. She had plenty of both. The wives called her husband, and the children called her both father and mother. She had risen above ordinary human limitations and did whatever she liked because of her proven superiority in all departments. Mtalba was Bittah too and was on her way up. "Both my aunts like you. It is very good for you, Henderson," said Itelo. "Do they have a good opinion of me, Itelo? Is that a fact?" I said. "Very good. Primo. Class A. They admire how you look, and also they know you beat me." "Boy, am I glad my physical strength is good for something," I said, "instead of being a burden, as it mostly has been throughout life. Only, tell me this: can't women of Bittahness do anything about frogs?" At this he was solemn, and he said no. Next it was the turn of the queen to ask questions, and first of all she said she was glad I had come. She could not hold still as she spoke, but her head was moved by many small tremors of benevolence, while her breath puffed from her lips and her open hand made passing motions before her face, and then she stopped and smiled, but without parting her mouth, while the live eye opened brightly toward me and the dry white hair rose and fell owing to the supple movement of her forehead. I had two interpreters, for Romilayu couldn't be left out of things. He had a sense of dignity and position, and was a model of correctness in an African manner as though bred to court life, speaking in a high-pitched drawl and tucking in his chin
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