Zen City by Eliot Fintushel

Author:Eliot Fintushel [Fintushel, Eliot]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-78535-351-2
Publisher: John Hunt Publishing
Published: 2016-06-24T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

“Salvo. Lost love. Wormwood. Direct hit. Game’s over. I’m the champion. Everybody cheer.”

In the privacy of the uproar, Big Man edged close to Tenacity. “Tag No Mind. What do you see, Tenacity?”

“He has Voices. I can’t tell if they’re good or bad. Only, something’s running him.”

“Was he lying? Did he really try to kill Angela?”

“Who knows? Somebody’s running her too.”

“Running Angela?” Big Man cupped his ear to shut out the pandemonium. It was not sufficient—their “noise” was not just sound—but that was all he knew how to cup.

“Who cares? We love her down here. Don’t you?”

“That’s a one way street.”

“Boy, did I tag you good,” Tenacity laughed.

“How do you guys know Angela?”

“We met her when she first come out.”

“First come out?”

“You know—‘YOU’RE NOT ME!’… Shut up now, I gotta declare.” Tenacity pinched one nostril and trumpeted steam and burnt oil out the other. “Listen up. Nobody tagged the killer. Nausea, Wizened, let him down.” The spined birds ascended. No Mind could not help resisting the things, even though they meant to free him; it was instinctual—they were fierce and ugly. Nausea and Wizened overpowered him. They carried him, thrashing and biting, down to the cave floor. Then they screed off to a high ledge.

“Tantra!” A rush of airborne cinders, or of dew spiriting off a mountainside, or a dragon’s breath, or rocket thrust, responded to Tenacity’s call, jetting the perimeter of the domed chamber and arriving beside Big Man and Tenacity. “Fix this guy, you old hodag.” Tantra wrapped himself around No Mind.

Tenacity whispered to Big Man, “Tantra’s three parts Yoga of the Body Heat.”

When Tantra peeled away, No Mind was seen to have been licked clean. Scabs had formed on all the lesions. The muck was gone. He was warm and dry, down to his calves at least, where the stream was still slowly rising. “Thank you, all of you,” No Mind said.

“Who are you, No Mind?” Big Man skewered him. “Tenacity and me both tagged you…”

“You didn’t call it,” Sorrow whined.

“…and all we saw was a hole. Who’s in it?”

Ramrod straight, No Mind stared right back at Big Man. “All we are is a hole, Big Man, Tenacity—sunyata, buddha nature. Rightly seen, our true nature is emptiness.”

It stopped him. That sort of talk always stopped Big Man. He looked away. It was something he knew he couldn’t understand. Too much ego.

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