Madam Z and Billy                                      by Wild Bill Blackolive                 (The following excerpt was the first public appearance of this novel.) THE THOUGHT-- A canine man with body of Apollo and eyes of Jesus unnerved and released me, a most significant detour on my path. --Madam Z THE THOUGHT-- A mind of a woman is in relentless search of the origin of Life Itself. Men seek the nurturing womb within woman, thinking this is origin itself. Woman knows better. --Madam Z Madam Z was business now. We showered together, scrubbed paint off one another. She told me a few times how easy I have it. You're so lucky you saw me coming, she said. She acted unhappy about her bruises, nibble marks, and red fanny, said her breasts were sore. I had two places she had bit me hard but I always tell her I don't like pain. Right after breakfast she prepared for her studio. She is a fine cook, fixed us steak and eggs, mushrooms, jalapenos. She headed to her studio to complete the one about the slob, and I had chores. I cleaned and vacuumed and washed a bunch of her stuff in her washing machine. I drove her Continental to the super market and got piles of stuff she gave me a list for. You eat like three weight lifters and you're the most expensive servant I've ever had, she had claimed. And you can't fix anything, not a thing, a big baby in a grown man's body! After everything I did fifty pushups and entered her studio to see how she was coming along. She had finished "The Slob." She was touching up her great self portrait, T-shirt and shorts again. Give me a beer, she said. Thought you quit. You're right. Isn't this a magnificent thing. It really is. I'm trying to decide what I want in my exhibit. I'll use this. And I'll use "The Wild Man" and "The Slob." I've got to figure what of these others. My carnival series, my jazz series, my children series. Maybe sometime you ought to throw one just with your nudes, us. Pile up a bunch of nudes of us, holding hands, making love. You're not paid to think. But an idea, Madam, but an idea. Don't mind me now. God, I can't believe it. I've pulled in this bum off the street. But I love you. Just be glad I've got money. Her studio phone rang. I could hear it was Percy, her third and final ex-husband. Cursing and wrath, threats and so on. I walked out to get the Guinness Stout. Truly, I could be getting fat. Maybe I could get her into jogging. One day to the next is altogether unpredictable. She used to do sprints and broad jump in high school. She is Caucasian but has an African build, mouth and nose too, so exciting. Or I could attempt getting her into weights, if she would get us some weights. I needed it, maybe she didn't. She was in mid forties at least, wouldn't tell me but I had put it together from some amazing stories. Her reddish-blond hair and liquid face had her looking in her thirties. She had never had a child and was angry with men. It was a little shock to come back to her studio and she was crying on her phone. I sat by her on the couch and dug open a bottle of Guinness with my knife. I am not a violent person but I was getting pissed. Abruptly, she went incensed. If Percy comes over tonight she has a body guard who will send him packing. That's her prediction. She screamed, hell no, he is no cop, asshole! I don't need cops! Bring your fucking creeps, fool! She hung up. Jesus Christ. Is he coming? Men are such shit. Look. Do I have to meet Percy tonight? No. He's a coward. But he's got these creeps with guns. Goddamn. Oh, shut up. Just hold me. What the fuck does he want? Money. What does anyone want. Do you have a gun? Of course I have a gun. I don't understand. Why should you give Percy money? You don't understand. He's just pulling on my guilt strings. He believes I ruined him. How did you ruin him? Oh I don't know. Let's forget about it. Well what the fuck kind of guy is Percy? Oh, a nice guy. What? He's a nice guy. He's just sick. What is this shit? You can't understand. Tell me about it. I don't want to talk about it. Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do if he comes over? Tell'im to go back to Chicago. Go back to Chicago? Does he live in Chicago? Yeh. What the fuck? What's he doing in Austin? He says I owe him. But he just wants me back. So he can work on my guilt. What are you guilty of? Nothing, really. He just wasn't man enough for me. Oh, shit. I cut'im off. I divorced him in two months. He didn't get any of my money. Damn. This is weird. You mean, he thinks you'll give him money? No. He just likes upsetting me. He's in love with me. He wants to bully me. He knows I'm afraid of him. Wait a minute. Just get me clear. What the hell can you be guilty of? Nothing. None of it's my fault. Goddamn. This is weird shit. WHAT is not your fault? Look, if he were to come over here, what should I do? I don't know, talk to him for me, I guess. This went on, of which I could comprehend no more. I just drank my six pack of Guinness. Madam Z went to bed with her Moby Dick. She went to sleep, in fact. Around one a.m. Percy knocked on her front door. I had to unlatch it about three ways one handed, holding the last Guinness. I don't lock doors, myself. He said, I'm Percy. He had some very large guy with him. I was half drunk and tired of it. Yes? I'm Percy. So fucking what. Henry, Percy said. Think this guy is up to trouble? Well, said Henry. My Guinness was half full, but I put it through Henry's teeth. Down his throat. I just did not have time for this shit. Percy ran for the rented car but I caught him. Hey, man, take this guy with you! I don't want 'im here! If you don't take him with you I'll hit you too! Percy took Henry with him and I never saw either of those guys again. I checked on the Madam asleep. I walked down to the Stop 'n Go for a sixer of Guinness, one block. Damn, I needed pot. The Madam won't smoke much pot, it makes her nervous. I drank the Guinness and smoked two Mores, smoked them like pot for the rush. Then I snuggled up to her. After two or three hours, two or three big pisses, which caused her to grumble, I fell asleep. In the daylight I woke in the heat of her mouth. Then I remembered the night and could not get my mind off it. She said, well, what's wrong with you today? I told her. She merely laughed. She said she prays she never sees Percy again in her life, bless him. I think you may never see him again, I said. I really fucked up his friend. I think he swallowed glass. She looked at my hand for cuts, wrong hand, no matter, no cuts. She hugged me. You are an angel. I have always wanted an angel. She got back to her studio that day. The celibacy was still on, said she had just forgotten. She had to get things ready for the exhibit, she said.