Harry Haller
Harry ambled to the john, naked, scanned the full length mirror, twice, three times, until the moment came when he suddenly focused on his breasts…milkless, they presented themselves, and by their mass threatened, what he had been led to believe all along, his masculinity.
Reduced to some startling androgynous state, he could no longer, with certainty, conclude who he really was, a masquerader, puppeteer?
Harry then imagined himself as a child-bearer, to experience what it felt like having one’s breasts fondled on a regular basis, but soon discarded the thought as being way too elaborate and presumptuous.
Still, maybe at least he should try himself, the way he learned from what his wife liked; soon, massaging the nipples with the tips of his forefingers, he suddenly felt astonished, turned on, more alive perhaps than any other sexual experience before.
His mind went from gibberish to blank, white noise, to white light.
He continued this methodical kneading and stroking for what seemed like hours in a deliberate unaggressive but consistent self-torturous embrace, his mirror the sole witness to his transformation.
And then, far off, something began to happen; he felt himself going, a train whipping along through an endless tunnel, at last closing in on its port of call- its final destination.
And then he came like never before, whether from sharing sexual encounters with others to his own elaborate masturbatory events.
Sometime later she slowly began dressing herself, and all the while smiling at the image in the mirror. The time had arrived at last, she decided.
Harry lit a half-smoked cigarette that waited patiently in the ashtray. Soon her wife would be coming home from work; it would be quite gratifying to narrate this event to her.
Yet he knew he would understand. He, after all, besides being her wife, was also her best friend. And best friends enjoy one another’s epiphanies, especially when one’s partner has a predilection for creating, evolving, like two musicians dueting around a central theme. So very gratifying – a cause for celebration!
Another chunk of time passed, and he began to prepare dinner. First he had his customary beer while in the bedroom the radio broadcasted a distant ballgame. His favorite sport had always been baseball, the only sport that does not rely on a clock- where there is no time.
Another beer later the front door opened, and it was her!
He approached his buddy, a chilled Beaujolais in hand, kissing her softly on both cheeks.
“How do I look to you?”
“Satisfied and alive, like a new person”.
Yes, he agreed, she can see I am a person before I am her man or anyone else. No labels. How cool!
Clicking his beer bottle to her wine glass, they ceremoniously shared their “water”.
“Umm, yummy”, she murmured, placing her satchel on the coffee table.”
“Well”, he began. “Something special happened today”. He took her hand as they moved together into the kitchen and sat down at the table, the ballgame gently drifting in and out as if from another point of reference.
“I guess I’ve waited a very long time to share something quite remarkable with myself”, Harry began.
“I’m all ears!”
Bisbee
3/19/77