Book II: Mary, Princess of the Suburbs
Cantos VII-X
Table of Contents
- Book I: Introduction — Canto VI
- Book II: Cantos VII — X
- Book III: Cantos XI — XVII
- Book IV: Cantos XVIII — XX
Canto VII: The Goldfedder’s Dog and The Pool Party
Soon, the fame of Mary had spread throughout Hastings. Other young women at school said, “look, there is Mary of the field hockey stick.”
When Mary visited Ani, Ani said unto Mary, “You no longer need my introductions to parties, but you still must follow my instructions. You can’t be a “proper teen” until you complete all the tasks.
Therefore, you must now gather unto yourself a group of seven kids and with them go pool hopping. Do you know what pool hopping is?”
Mary admitted that she did not know.
Ani said, “Pool hopping is when you sneak into people’s swimming pools at night and go skinny dipping without permission.”
“That doesn’t sound difficult,” said Mary.
“The hard part is that you must do it in Union Town, on the Union Town hill, the third most sacred hill of Hastings. The hill is protected by a pack of wild dogs. The dogs are a scourge to all teens on bicycles.”
“Wild dogs?” Asked Mary, “We have wild dogs in Hastings?”
“Well, maybe they are ferrel dogs,” said Ani.
“I find it hard to believe there is even a pack of ferrel dogs,” said Ani.
“OK, maybe they are just a pack of dogs that get together at night. Their owners let them sleep all day inside, and then at night let them wander the streets, but they are like a pack of wild dogs, and the leader of the pack is a beast name “Pooh-Bear”, the Goldfedder’s dog.”
Mary asked seven friends if they wanted to go pool hopping. On the appointed night they all met with their bicycles. Mary told them that they were going to ride up the Union Town hill, the third most sacred hill in Hastings. The other youths were frightened.
One said to Mary, “That hill is guarded by Pooh-Bear and a pack of wild dogs.
“They’re not wild dogs,” said Mary, “and I can take care of Pooh-Bear.”
So the youths began to ride through the checkered light of suburban street lamps. On a dark street they heard the barking. From out of the yards came the wild pack of dogs, chasing their bicycles and nipping at their legs.
Mary stopped her bike and held Hündinnen Kleben aloft. “Come on, you stupid dogs. Come here so I can hit you.”
But the dogs stayed away from Mary, for they were afraid of Hündinnen Kleben. When she got back on her ten speed Schwinn, the dogs began again to bark and chase and nip.
“This sucks,” said one of the youths. “The wild dogs won’t leave us alone, and their barking will wake up the homeowners who will call the cops if they think we are pool hopping. Maybe we should just go home, smoke pot, and watch Twilight Zone.”
Mary said, “Do not bag on the pool party. I will take care of the wild dogs.” Then she instructed the other youths to sit on the curb and watch her. She climbed onto her ten speed and began to ride in circles very slowly. The pack of dogs were soon on her, chasing and nipping at her legs.
“See, they can smell fear,” said one of the youths, for Mary looked very much afraid.
Soon Pooh-Bear came to the front of the pack. He was a large dog. A water spaniel, with unkept fur, sharp teeth, and horrible yellow eyes the color of a bug lamp. When Pooh-Bear was closing in on her, Mary peddled even more slowly and let out a girlish scream. The dog lunged and bit Mary on the calf.
As soon as she was bitten Mary jumped off her bicycle and began to chase Pooh-Bear. The dog saw that there was no fear in Mary and ran away as fast as it could, but Pooh-Bear was overfed and seldom walked, so Mary, who was fast and strong from gymnastics and swimming, ran down Pooh-Bear and grabbed him by the collar.
“What are you doing?” The youths asked.
“I’m taking this fucking dog back to the Goldfedders.”
Mary led the dog by the collar all the way back to the Goldfedders’ house. She knocked on the door, and when Mrs. Goldfedder answered it Mary showed Mrs. Goldfedder the bite on her calf.
Mary said, “Mrs. Goldfedder, Pooh-Bear bit me while I was riding my bicycle.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Mrs. Goldfedder, “I don’t know how he got out. He likes to sneak out at night.” Then Mrs. Goldfedder took Pooh-Bear inside, where he had never been at night before.
Mary and the youths then snuck into yards with pools. They stripped off their clothes, and swam in the pools. No dogs harassed them, and no homeowners woke up, for Mary was favored by the gods.
Canto VIII. The Boat Party
When Mary told Ani about the pool party, Ani said, “You no longer need my help. Your last two parties you must find on your own.”
One day when Mary was climbing the Andrus Hill, the fourth most sacred hill in Hastings, two young women called out to her. They were wearing sunglasses and carrying towels.
“Mary,” they said, “There is a rich guy who is having a party on his boat. We are going to go to the Marina and sunbathe on his boat. He will give us piña coladas to drink and let us smoke cigarettes.”
“That sounds kind of sketchy,” said Mary. “Aren’t you scared to go on the guy’s boat and drink piña coladas? How long will it take before he tries to show you his dick?”
“He is just a weird old guy,” said one of the women. “He thinks it makes his big boat look better to have young women sunbathing on the deck. He gives us piña coladas and let us smoke cigarettes, but has never shown us his dick.”
Mary said, “I will go to the Marina and look at the boat, but I am not promising that I will get on it.”
So the three young women walked down to the Marina, and there, at the pier was a giant-stink pot named “Esmerelda”.
From below deck came a fat old man in red shorts and a white polo shirt. He had a tonsure of grey hair and the top of his head was sweaty.
“Hello, girls,” He said, “Come aboard. The blender is ready. Who is this, a friend?”
One of the young women said, “This is Mary. The hero of our school.”
“Welcome aboard, Mary. I am Captain Bauchman. Make yourself home on my boat and I will make you piña coladas.”
Mary would not get on the boat. She stood on the pier and said, “I am not interested in laying on your boat. Why don’t you take us out for a boat ride?”
“Oh,” said Captain Bauchman, “Taking the boat out costs money. Do you have money for diesel fuel?” Mary did not reply, but as Captain Bauchman looked upon her he noticed her beauty. The straightness of her brown hair. Her large white teeth, the shape of her body, which was strong from gymnastics and swimming.
“Maybe today we will go for a ride,” said the captain. “Come aboard, Mary, and you girls can sunbathe for a while. Then I will take you for a ride up and down the river.”
So Mary got on the boat and went down below with the other girls. She said to them, “I have nothing to change into.” They said, “We will lend you a bikini.”
Mary put on the bikini, but when she came back on deck Captain Bauchman recoiled in disgust. “What the fuck is that?” he said, pointing to her stomach.
Mary looked at where he was pointing and said, “That’s my belly button.”
“It’s an outie,” he said, and he began to retch.
“Yes, it is an outie. The doctor fucked up when I was born.”
“Cover that fucking thing up,” said the Captain. “I can’t have you sun yourself on the Esmerelda with that thing sticking out of your belly. It looks like a dick.”
Then the righteous rage of the gods came onto Mary, and she lowered her voice and said, “There is nothing wrong with my bellybutton, you fucking piece of shit. I thought you were a scumbag, and now I am sure of it. I will not cover up my bellybutton, but I will go on the boat ride you promised. If you don’t take us up and down the river I will walk into that yacht club over there and tell them that you are giving underage girls piña coladas and taking polaroid pictures of them to jerk off to.”
Then Captain Buchman cowered in fear, for the righteous anger of Mary was great.
“How did you know about the polaroid pictures?” Captain Buchman asked.
“I guessed,” said Mary. “Now start the fucking engine and let’s burn some diesel fuel.”
So the captain took the three women up and down the river, and Mary got out the fishing tackle and fished for striped bass. They caught two stripers, and when they got back, while they were changing into their street clothes, the two girls thanked Mary.
“We have never had a ride in the boat before, and fishing for stripers was much more fun than sunbathing and drinking piña coladas. We think your bellybutton is beautiful. It is not like a dick. It is more like a hill in the middle of your stomach. It reminds us of Mt. Hope, the most sacred hill in Hastings.”
Thereafter Mary was sometimes called Mary Omphalos, or “Mary of the Bellybutton.”
Canto IX: The Meadow Party
Ani was pleased with Mary’s report of the pool party.
“There is one last party you must attend,” said Ani. “You must attend a keg party in the Meadow of Hillside Woods.”
But the meadow is not on Donald Drive, the fifth, and least sacred, hill in Hastings.
“Nobody really cares about the hills of Hastings”, said Ani. After Mount Hope and Villard, it really doesn’t matter.”
“Beware though, for your fame has grown,” said Ani. “Do not let hubris cloud your vision. A certain amount of self-absorbed cluelessness is part of being a teenager, but too much can make you an asshole.”
Mary pretended to listen to the words of Ani, but really she had ignored everything after the word “party”.
One evening, when Mary was walking around town looking for a party, a 77 Chevy Camaro pulled up along side of her. In the driver’s seat was Vince Guigliamo, who Mary kind of knew. What she knew about Vince was that many kids said he was a “dick”, but Vince was smiling, and his car was clean and muscular. He parted his hair in the middle just as Mary did, and Led Zeppelin was playing in the car.
“Do you want to go down to the river and smoke a joint?” Asked Vince.
“Mary said, “yes” and climbed into the car.
“Let’s drive around for a bit until it gets dark,” said Vince.
Mary said, “Let’s drive the five hills of Hastings.”
Vince replied, “Yes, we will do the five hills, plus Cliff Street and Clarence Ave.”
Mary was much impressed by Vince’s knowledge of Hastings and his regard for the five hills. When they went to Zinzer Park they got out to sit on the hood of the Camaro, Vince said, “Nice daisies.”
Mary did not mind the daisy comment, for Vince was cool and smoked cigarettes on his back while stretched out on the hood of his Camaro.
When darkness had truly fallen, Vince said, “Let’s go down to the river and smoke a joint.” So they drove down to the river, where a few cars were parked in the Marina parking lot.
They smoked the joint and looked at the river. Mary told the story of Captain Buchman and showed Vince the omphalos. He said it was “cute” and called Captain Buchman a “dirtbag.”
Mary said that she liked the Camaro. She said it was a cool car. Vince asked her if she wanted to drive it. Mary said, “I cannot drive a stick, as my mother, Brunhilde, has an automatic Ford LTD II station wagon. That is all I have ever driven. I drive it to get groceries from the A&P.”
Vince said, “I can teach you how to drive a stick,” and when Mary looked, Lo, Vince had his penis sticking out of his pants. He pointed to his erection and said, “how would you like to drive this stick?”
Mary was surprised by the dick, but not afraid. “Put away your dick, Vince,” she said. “You are going to ruin a good evening. Nobody wants to see that thing.”
“Oh, they do,” said Vince. When I bring girls down to the river in my Camaro to smoke a joint, they always put some ‘slob on the knob’. Why don’t you put some slob on the knob, Mary? Don’t be a prude and a prick tease. I gave you a ride in my Camaro, didn’t I? You came down to the river to smoke a joint. You must want to suck my dick.”
So Mary said to Vince, “OK, I will put some slob on the knob” and then she scraped deep into her lungs and pulled forth a giant loogie. She hawked, and a ball of phlegm like the discharge of a grouper issued forth from her mouth and covered Vince’s penis in her lunger sauce.
“What the fuck?” Vince screamed, “You just spit a lunger on my penis. What a frigid whore you are!” Vince was going to tell Mary to get out of the Camaro, but Mary had already gotten out of the car.
The Camaro pulled out of it’s parking space, and Vince gunned the motor, driving away in a cloud of noise and displaced gravel.
Mary noticed that there was another car in the Marina. It was a 1978 Chevy Nova that belonged to Crazy Paulie. Crazy Paulie was looking at Mary through the open window of his car.
Crazy Paulie asked Mary, “What the fuck just happened? Did that guy just ditch you?”
“Yes,” said Mary. “But it is OK. That was Vince. Vince is a dick. What are you doing down here at the Marina, Crazy Paulie?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Crazy Paulie, “Sometimes I come down here by myself and smokes cigarettes while watching the river. I think I do it because I might be gay.”
“It’s not gay to sit and watch the river, Crazy Paulie,” said Mary.
“Yea, I know,” said Crazy Paulie. “Still, I might be gay.” Then he asked, “Why did Vince ditch you?”
Mary said, “He wanted me to put slob on his knob, so I spit a lunger on his dick.”
Crazy Paulie laughed his crazy laugh. “That’s fucking excellent,” he said. Then he asked, “How big was his dick?”
“I don’t know,” said Mary, “I guess average size.”
“How big is ‘average’?” asked Paulie.
Crazy Paulie and Mary became friends. Mary stashed her Schwinn ten speed in some bushes by the municipal pool and rode around with Crazy Paulie. She told him one day that she wanted to go to a “Meadow Party” but didn’t know when to go.
“I know who to ask about a Meadow Party. We will ask the pixie potheads who live in Hillside Woods.”
Paulie drove to the parking lot in Hillside, and before long a small group of young teens came out of the woods. They were “yogurts”, the pseudo-hippies of the suburbs. They approached the car and asked if Mary and Paulie had any pot.
“We don’t have pot, but we have tea.” Said Crazy Paulie. “Get in the car and we will smoke it.” The pixie potheads declined to smoke the tea. So did Mary. Only Crazy Paulie was crazy enough to smoke tea.
Mary noticed that among the pixie potheads were Typhus and Dysentery. “What are you little fuckers doing here?” She asked. “Does mom know you’re running around in the woods smoking pot?”
“Mom thinks we are playing baseball,” said Typhus. “Besides, who the fuck are you.? You have been fucking up for months now, going to parties, hanging out with your derelict friends, and now Vince is telling the entire town that you put slob on his knob.”
“I put slob on his knob, alright”, said Mary.
When the pixie potheads told Mary about the next Meadow Party she asked Crazy Paulie if he wanted to go.
“That is not my scene, Mary,” said Crazy Paulie. “I would rather go down to Zinzer Park and drink beer on the hood of my car.”
She asked Typhus and Dysentery to show her how to get to the Meadow, so the three of them waited until their mother, Brunhilde, had finished her libations and fallen asleep watching the Lawrence Welk show. Then the brothers led Mary through Hillside Woods to the Meadow. They climbed over Rip’s Friends’ rocks and along skunk cabbage streams in the moonlight, the twins going before her like hounds of the hunt.
When they got to The Meadow it was filled with the light of a full moon and packed with revelers. Someone was playing guitar. There was a fire at the center. The party goers scattered over the open field. Typhus and Dysentery were afraid and stood at the edge of the opening, concealed by the darkness of the forest.
“This is not good,” said Typhus. “There are greasers and jocks here, not just hippies. See the kegs? They have brought kegs on their motorcycles. When they get drunk they like to beat up yogurts and hippies.”
“Don’t be afraid,” said Mary. “I can handle jocks.”
“Jocks are not greasers,” said Dysentery.
When Mary entered the party a buzz went through the crowd. Many teens said to one another, “That is Mary, hero of Hastings. The girl that beat up Bobby Brown and made Captain Buchman take her for a boat ride. It is she who defeated Pooh-Bear and spit on Vince’s dick.”
Then they invited her to stand by the fire while they sang along to Crosby, Stills, and Nash songs. All marveled at the beauty of Mary, her long straight hair and embroidered blue jeans radiant in the light of the moon and fire.
But the greasers were displeased. They wanted to sing Van Halen songs and howl at the moon like wolves. They saw the beauty of Mary and decided to lift her up.
So they began a chant. “Mary, Mary, extraordinary, how does your meadow grow?” and by meadow, they meant her pubic hair.
Mary did not see them for what they were, for she had grown prideful in her fame. When they began to chant, “Mary, Queen of the Meadow” she smiled and laughed. All were amazed by the beauty of her big teeth in the moon and firelight.
The greasers said, “Let us lift you up that we may worship you, Mary.” They helped her sit on the shoulders of a big greaser called Moose. Then they all danced around her chanting, “Mary, Queen of the Meadow!”
Then, among the chants, someone shouted, “Show us your tits!”. At first is was just a whisper, but more and more of the greasers took up the refrain. Then the male jocks joined in. Then, even, some of the male yogurts, but the female yogurts, the cheerleaders, the Hudsonettes, and even the greaser girls, did not join the chant, for they loved Mary and saw her as their hero.
The chant grew louder and louder and when it was clear that Mary had no intention of showing her tits, someone shouted “Wet Tee-Shirt!” and then all of the greasers began to throw their beer on Mary. A rain of beer poured down on her, for even some of the yogurt boys and jocks threw their beer, and all the greasers howled like wolves. Moose was blinded in the spray, but kept bouncing up and down. Her breasts, now revealed by a wet shirt that clung to her chest like a second skin, jiggled in the moonlight.
Canto X: The Aristeia of Mary
Then the rage came on Mary like the fury of a broken vacuum. From the moon-filled sky it fell on her face, and all who saw it gasped, for her beauty was now transformed to anger and menace.
“You want to see my tits?” She yelled. “I’ll show you my tits, but they will be the last things you see while I kick all of your asses!”
Then Mary pulled off her tee shirt, lifted her arms to the moon, and screamed a scream that echoed among the five hills of Hastings. From Uniontown to Riverview Manor it reverberated like the 4:30 whistle, and all who heard it shuddered for the ferocity of the sound.
With the strength that gymnastics and swimming had given to her legs, she squeezed the head of Moose with her thighs. His face went red, and he cried out in pain. “Brothers,” he screamed, “She will pop my head like a zit! Save me,” but none came to his aid, so fearful they were of the topless Mary.
He fell over, and as he did Mary jumped off and stood over him. Then, with her combat boots, she kicked him two times. Each time he howled in pain. “Have mercy! Have mercy!” Moose cried. “No Mercy,” quoth Mary, and she kicked him a third time.
All stood dumbfounded an shocked by her strength and terrible rage.
“In my hubris I forgot the instructions of Ani and did not bring Hündinnen Kleben with me. Therefore I will use this stick,” and with that she picked up a log from the fire and began to beat the greasers.
“Fuck her up,” cried the greasers, for many of them wore leather jackets and thought that the burning stick would not harm them, and they attacked Mary on masse.
Mary was quick and powerful. Like a snow plow she struck, like a measles inoculation she stung. The flaming log danced in the air, finding the legs and backs of the greasers who attacked her. One! Two! Three! They fell before her like trashcans before dogs. They scattered like squirrels before a labrador.
Then one stood before her. He addressed her by her name.
“Mary,” he said, “It is I, Tony, the older brother of Vince who you spit on. I did not throw beer or scream ‘show us your tits’, but, even so, for the humiliation you have caused my brothers, I am going to punch you in your fucking face.”
Mary, whose bellybutton was now red with anger and whose skin was blotched and patchy from the effort of kicking greaser ass, stared at Tony with yellow eyes and spoke with a voice of righteous madness.
“It doesn’t matter what you did. What matters is what you didn’t do. The sins of your brothers will now be visited on you, for you are their keepers and you were happy to see my tits when they were exposed against my will.”
So Mary closed with Tony, and Tony punched her in the face and dropped her in one blow. To the ground Mary fell, her face cut open by the skull ring on Tony’s hand. The blood of her face poured into the soil of the meadow. She swooned in the moonlight, stunned by the force of Tony’s blow.
In a dream, from the moonlight, the goddess of Valhalla (which is a town in Westchester) appeared before Mary, wearing a mumu decorated with owls and olives.
“Mary,” she said, “You are badly wounded, for you forgot the advice of Ani and put celebrity and attention before the edicts of the gods. Still, the gods are with you Mary, so I will send you help, that you can continue to kick greaser ass.”
Hearing this, Mary thanked the goddess. She staggered up and again closed with Tony. Before he could punch her a second time she kicked him in the side, which wobbled him, and then she attacked his face. She kneed him in the jaw and there was a sickening crack.
She stood up, over the fallen Tony, and screamed, “I will fuck up all you greaser assholes.” Seeing Tony prostrate, and hearing the cry of Mary, they began to run.
The sound of a minibike filled Mary’s ears, and next to her pulled up Ani who said, “The goddess has sent me to be your shield-maiden. I will drive the minibike, and you club these fuckers as we pass them.”
So Ani drove the minibike and Mary clubbed the fleeing greasers, jocks, and even some of the yogurt men. Topless in the moonlight she exacted her stern vengeance. Still full of blood when the meadow was cleared, she threw the kegs down hill into sugar pond. Only then did the fury leave her.
Typhus and Dysentery came out from the woods. Typhus handed her his tee shirt. She said, “Thank you” and began to put it on, but Typhus said, “I gave it to you for the blood which runs down your face.” After that Mary was often called, “Mary prosópou oulí”, or “Mary of the facial scar.”
