Saline Solution Read Online Free PDF Page B

overt or legal discrimination, but a subtle sexual apartheid would insinuate itself, and male and female ghettoes would come into being.'
    I grew excited. 'Imagine the scenes when the new nation begins. The wild and open cruising, the public lovemaking. Total euphoria.'
    Francis drew in a sharp breath and seemed to snap to. For the first time he registered his surroundings. 'So this is Cherry Grove,' he said.
    'You sound disappointed,' I said.
    He looked over at me. The obvious had suddenly become seductive. There was nothing to stop us now from stepping into the act itself. Then there would be no barriers. And perhaps the problems with the women would dissolve. Yet, as we hovered at the edge, a blinding sense of impossibility paralysed our wills, and we said no to the new, refusing to transform it into the old.
    'It's better not even to bother,' he said. 'I need one person at least that I don't have to pretend sexual passion
    to.' He paused. 'And anyway, you're not my type.'
    We cut in from the beach and walked down the boardwalk in silence for a few minutes. 'And then,' Francis began again, 'they discover that they still need people to take away the garbage, and that they have to put together some form of monetary system, and they have to get into the whole supply and demand hassle with food, and that they have hostile neighbours.' He paused. 'The rest is history. The bright ones learn how to get the stupid ones to do all the shitty jobs. They gather power and hypnotise the rest with the rituals of government and religion. And they find that they are addicted to hatred and violence and lust and guilt and jealousy and all the sins which are part of the human heritage. There is dissatisfaction. Radical groups challenge the established authority. Heresies arise. And a new voice is heard calling for the rights of bisexuals to be respected. But MetaFag dies and the faggot Stalin comes into power. Executions happen. Happy Homoland becomes another tyranny.'
    I laughed. 'Imagine how things would have been if people like Trotsky were gay and . . .'
    Francis turned and pinned me with one of his steely looks. 'Oh, Trotsky was gay,' he said. I was caught up short. It seemed stupid to wonder whether he was putting me on. I took him for a tour of the bars and scenic sights, and for a walk through the meat rack. But he got very uptight, and we left quickly, to trudge three miles back to Seaview.
    When we got back to the house, Lucinda had returned and was in a panic. But it was general, and she had no way of letting herself know how she felt. I was too taken by the scope of the day to notice where she was at. She latched on to me and made herself unpleasant in unspecified ways. It was as though she were a child and just wanted to be picked up and held. But at the time I didn't see that. That's the whole of the matter. I just didn't
    see what she needed. And she was unable to ask.
    We began bickering, and then arguing. I went into the bedroom. She followed, and within seconds we were shouting at one another. I began to walk out. She grabbed my arm. 'Let me go/ I yelled. 'Don't you see my state? If I don't get out of here, I'm going to hurt you.'
    A revelation crossed her face.
    'You want to be hurt, don't you?' I said. 'Well no,' I shouted, 'I'm not going to play that game, I'm not going to beat you up.'
    I turned to go and again she grabbed my arm. I went blind with rage. I flung her from me. She threw herself at my legs. I yanked her head up by the hair, lifted her bodily, and threw her back on the bed. She fell on her spine and lay there for a moment in total open confusion. I felt a charge of sexual energy. I leapt on her and slapped her very hard across the face, two times, three times. And then I jumped back and ran from the room.
    I stayed away for over an hour, and when I returned she was wiggly and warm, wanting to cuddle. I was, in turn, properly gruff and tender.
    It is appalling the way in which we mechanically trip through the