VI

Naublus eventually tumbled into the train tracks, still rhythmically blurting out, "Wassup! Wassup! Wassup! Wassup!" His head jerked back and forth, and green, foamy pus started to ooze from his ears. He jangled uncontrollably on the tracks, like a Parkinson's-ridden hand, until his companion Snazy took charge of the situation.

"Alright, everyone, make a chain of four.
We'll pull him out of that dungeon horror!"

A 40-something year-old man in a red bandana, a 19-year-old girl, and a seven-foot giant who seemed to span all ages, joined hands with Snazy. She dove into the tracks, still hanging on to the chain, and she jostled her way to Naublus' scarred arm. She grabbed hold, and up and out they went, back to safety. It was such a close call that Lady Liberty almost shit her pants. Which would've made the situation worse because she would not have been able to rescue Naublus.

But Snazy was there, and she was all Naublus ever needed.

She skipped away to find her love. She never came back.

Naublus forgot all about her, and he went back to his spinning -- his mental spinning, that is. Down he went, riding the grey, rusted-iron spiral that moved up and down, like a cow-milking machine. Oh Naublus, why again? Why this needless anguish that only shreds your heart? Naublus began to sob. He went on for the next three hours, until about 8:00 p.m.. His head shrunk a couple of inches because of the sadness draining out of him. A smaller head, but feeling oh so much better.

Tap, tap, tip, tap, tap, tip, tip. His ears deceived him, Naublus thought. No, it was not rain. Diamonds. Diamonds! Naublus had not bathed in a diamond shower since he was a little girl in his homeland. He ran out, giddy and slobbering with excitement, into the United States of America. The diamonds tapped on his skin, stuck to it, didn't fall. On his shoulders, diamonds. On the tops of his feet, diamonds. On his tongue, diamonds. He needed more. He slid into a puddle, filling his whole being with the glimmering beauty. Oh, the satisfaction, the satiation, the fulfillment! The grey sun's light made the diamonds look like demon-fairies. They had come to rescue him from his depression. They lasted a lifetime.

Five minutes. One second. Three half-seconds. A century. The diamonds flattened out into cardboard circles. Covered in them was Naublus. Drowning in cardboard was Naublus. He thought about the murdered trees. Slashed trunks, branches made into dust. Sap spilling everywhere, baptizing the forest with the sins of industry. He flailed his arms outward, grunting a scream, ripping the cardboard off his body (it was everywhere).

"What the hell? You did not just bump into me! You did not--just bump--into ME!" A woman with a sun dress and an expression to match it was clouded by Naublus, a cloudy man himself. It was time to rain on her little parade.

Feverishly, gone mad, Naublus asked the simple question:

"Where the diamonds went?"