A Goat Tail
by Primordial
Stu (Philip H. Farber) I was not far below the summit when I scrambled over a large boulder and came to a flat place. A bare circle of rock, it was ringed by tall trees whose gnarled roots gripped tenaciously to the side of the mountain. It was, I thought then, an ideal place to begin my meditation, so I shrugged off my knapsack and sat between two of the trees, gazing out over the valley and the peaks of other mountains, hazy with distance. There was no movement or sound but the wind tossing the tops of the trees. I took a deep breath, smiled and began my ritual. Breathing deeply and
regularly, as I had been instructed, I allowed the prayer to flow through
my mind. I inhaled and thought, "Great god of the world, bring me to infinity."
Held the breath and thought, "Great god of the world, bring me to infinity."
Exhaled and thought the thought. Inhaled again. The effect was almost immediate.
My facial muscles relaxed, seeming to suddenly slide away from consciousness,
and my eyes half-closed. Immaterial clouds of pastel glow shifted and glided
around me, around the trees. "This is great!" I thought. "It's going to work!" For an indeterminate period of time I drifted ever deeper into the trance, occasionally breaking concentration to revel in the beauty and solitude of the place. And then, suddenly, there was a scurrying sound behind me. My breath escaped in a single blast, my mantra disappearing with it into the air. I whirled in time to glimpse a young woman of dazzling beauty, stark naked in spite of the cool wind, running through the trees. She ran frantically, in apparent desperation, oblivious to anything but her flight. She did not see me and before I could call out to her, she leapt over a rock and was gone. There was again, total silence. I stood and walked to the edge where the woman had disappeared. There was no sign of her, just the trees below waving in the wind. Puzzled, I returned to my perch. I pulled my canteen from my pack and took a drink. I sighed and tried to return to my trance. I inhaled and thought the phrase. I held the breath and began the prayer, but by the third word my mind had drifted off to a mental image of the strange young woman. What the hell was she doing up here? And what had happened to her clothes? Then I caught myself, realizing that I had broken concentration. A little impatient at finding this lack of discipline in myself, I forced any thought of naked women from my conscious mind and returned to the meditation. Two breaths later and the woman was back in my mind, this time dancing provocatively closer, and my penis was rising to the occasion. "Damn!" I thought, registering the break. I redoubled my concentration and the hard-on subsided. But the trance did not return, for there was a sudden loud clattering on the rocks above the flat place, accompanied by sounds of panting, grunts and growled curses. The last semblance of concentration fleeing for good, I watched, confused, as a figure appeared through the trees. My confusion turned to wonder and then to an even deeper, more profound confusion as the creature came into view. At first I thought it was some strange mountain beast, for it leaped and danced over the rocks on cloven hooves and white-haired legs, moving with animal grace. But as it emerged into the clearing, I saw that it had the upper torso of a man. The bearded head was also human, though two enormous, spiral horns protruded from the temples. The grumbling and cursing, as well, were in human voice, in fact, in impeccable, expressive English. The goat-man clattered and grumbled to a halt in the middle of the flat place. "Shit," he said. Breathing heavily, he looked all around the clearing and his eyes eventually came to rest on me. He peered at me. He cursed again. "Did a nymph come this way?" he asked. "Huh?" I managed to respond. "A wood nymph. A sweet, cuddly kind of female creature. No clothes. Big tits." He grumbled. "I saw her come this way, through the trees." I cleared my throat. "She, um, she went that way. Over the rock and down into the trees." He leaped over to the edge and peered down the mountainside. "Shit," he said again. "Oh, well, I'll find another nymph. This mountain is full of them, you know." "Who are you?" I gasped. The creature made an exaggerated bow. "I'm Pan." "Pan?" "Pan, and we ain't talking Peter. Lord of the Gates of Matter and god of pastoral intercourse." He scratched into the hair on one leg and fished out an enormous spliff. Holding the joint under his nose for a moment, he savored the aroma and sighed rapturously. "Want to smoke?" he asked. "No," I said. "No thank you." "You don't smoke?" "Well, actually," I confessed, "I sometimes smoke quite a bit. But, you see, I came up here to meditate...." "It might help. 'Just say IO!' I always say." "No," I said firmly. "I'm trying to avoid distractions." "Well, keep right on trying then." He stuck the number in his mouth and fired it up from a match which had somehow appeared in his hand. He puffed big clouds of smoke and inhaled deeply. "You up here looking for the meaning of life?" he asked. "No," I said. "Not really." "Ah! A writer then! Looking for inspiration?" "Yes. Exactly. How did you know?" "Part of my mythological make-up. Anyway, buddy, you've come to the right place. If you're going to find inspiration anywhere, you're going to find it here! And I know just where to look! Say, you want a beer?" "Where!?" "Right here. I've got a case keeping cold in the spring, on the other side of those trees." "Not the beer..." I began, but he was already through the trees and clattering up the rocks. I heard a splash and then he was climbing down through the trees again, a dripping six-pack of bottled beer in his hand. He popped the tops
off two with his thumbnail and handed me one. "Here you go. There's plenty more up there, when we finish these." "No," I said, "thanks, but I don't really want one. I'm trying to meditate." "But it's already open," the god protested. "No, really, I can't. I have to find that inspiration. Where is it?" Pan smiled. "Drink up and I'll show you." I took a gulp from the bottle. It was cold and good, so I gulped again. "I'm drinking," I sputtered. "Where is the inspiration?" He leaned forward conspiratorially. "If you want something really exciting to write about, you should check out some of these nymphs! Hooo boy! Hot damn! There's something to write about! Come on, let's go!" I set the beer down on a rock and sighed. "That's not what I mean at all," I said. "I'm looking for real inspiration. I want to be open to the infinite. I want the universe to come rushing into me!" Pan sneered. "So you're just going to sit here and wait for it?" "Yes, that's how it's done." "Well, that's one way... If you've really got a lot patience. But a nymph! Ah, a nymph! The chase! The penetration! A nymph is immediate. She's alive, she's warm, she's... Ah, a nymph!" He was nearly dancing with excitement. "Come on! I know where they are!" "Damn it!" I said. "Leave me alone! Please. I just want some quiet so I can concentrate." "And if you can't have any quiet?" "Then I can't concentrate!! Just go away! Fuck off!" Pan smiled at me and lowered himself to the rock, folding his beastly legs beneath him. "Let me tell you a story," he said. I hid my face in my hands. I think I may have sobbed. "I used to know a guy who was a lot like you," the god began. "He was searching for all kinds of things, this guy. He never came way out here, like you did, but he put plenty of energy into his searches where he lived, in the city. "I was visiting the city then, in disguise of course. I kept hearing so much about these wild and promiscuous city women, well, I just had to find out. But that's another story, and it's a really good one. You want to hear that one?" "No," I groaned. "I just want some quiet. Please." "I guess you're right," he said. "One story at a time. Anyway, this guy had led what so many humans would call an 'exemplary' life. He didn't drink or take any drugs; he had been, get this, a virgin until he married. His wife, by the way, was quite attractive and we later came to be very close friends, but that's another story entirely. A very good story at that. Would you like to hear that one?" I sucked at my beer and did not answer. "Okay, okay," Pan chuckled. "No need to get surly. I'll stick to the first story. Maybe later I'll tell you about his wife. "Anyway, this guy and
his wife had sex about once a month. They got it over with quickly and
got a good night's sleep so that they could wake up bright and early to
go to their 'upwardly mobile' jobs. He was some kind of executive. His
job consisted, as far as I could tell, of creating a favorable image for
himself, to impress "Needless to say, the guy was disappointed. This was the worst thing that had ever happened to him in his exemplary life. You probably don't understand what a blow this might have been. You writers are used to rejection, you're used to people telling you that you're all kinds of things, but never exemplary. Oh, perhaps your prose is exemplary, or your scholarship, or your message, but not you. At any rate, this guy was royally fucked up because this kid from college got the job that he thought he wanted. In reality, he would have hated the job, but he never knew that. "This is when he began searching. He didn't know what he was searching for, but the situation forced him to take a really good look at his life and realize that there was something missing. He wanted something new, something entirely different from what he had. He wanted something that would uplift him, that would infuse him with a spirit, an exemplary spirit to be sure. He left work early that day, simply walking out without a word. He went home and searched his apartment. He looked on the sofa, on the bed. He searched his wife (who rather enjoyed being searched, I might add, though she never let on). He searched out in the street, he searched in department stores, in video shops, restaurants, in the park. That's where I found the guy, in the park. He was sitting on a bench, apparently scrutinizing a flock of pigeons, trying to find whatever it was that he was searching for. "I sat down beside him not because I had any great desire to meet him or feed the pigeons; it was the view I was interested in. And what a view it was! Women of all shapes and sizes were enjoying the first warm day of spring by unveiling some of the most wonderful... But, ah! That is another story. Would you like to hear that one?" I did not reply, but sucked down the last gulp of my beer and set the bottle on the rock. Grinning somewhat dementedly, the god flicked the top off another and handed it to me. "Here you go!" he said jovially. "We're really partying now! Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. the guy in the park. I was feeling particularly fine that day, what with the warm weather and all, so I tried to make a little conversation with the guy. I pointed out an exceptionally well-formed bird, and I ain't talking pigeons now, and made a brief comment on the evolutionary function of the organism. The guy mumbled something like 'Yeah, nice', and returned to his own survey of sidewalk fauna. If you could have seen that bright breasted harbinger of spring, and if you could have seen how disinterested the guy was, you would have realized almost as quickly as I did that something was wrong. The woman passed, unfortunately, out of sight, so I turned my attention to the problem at hand. " 'Are you an ornithologist?' I asked the guy. He mumbled something like 'wha?' (or maybe it was 'huh?' -- I don't remember) and grudgingly gave me a small percentage of his attention. " 'I didn't think so,' I told him. 'You look more like an upwardly mobile executive that a zoologist. That's really a great suit you're wearing.' " 'Weirdo,' he mumbled. "Now, most humans think I'm a little weird. I bet even you do, in spite of your polite demeanor." I snarled. "It's just that humans usually have a pretty limited frame of reference." He paused to apply fire to the roach of his spliff, puffing up a small mushroom cloud about his head. "And of course the problem in this case was an extremely limited frame of reference. This guy just had nothing but the experience of conforming to this exemplary image. It was a game which had worked for him all his life, but had come up short in this one instance. And that really knocked him for a loop. If he had had some more games to play, a hobby even, he could have just gone on to something else instead of searching futilely. Actually, and I understood this at once, it was a new game that he was looking for. " 'Yeah,' I said, 'I know I seem weird. Everybody tells me that.' I looked down at the fat, dirty birds and tried to look as dejected as he did. I waited, silently, until I caught him looking over at me, a hint of sympathy in his eyes. " 'Life sucks,' I said. " 'You can say that again,' the guy agreed. And a moment or two later he was unburdening his life story on me. " 'Yeah,' I said when the guy finally finished, 'life really sucks.' But then I brightened up, as if an idea had suddenly dawned on me. 'Hey! you know what I always do when I feel this down?' " 'What's that?' my new friend asked. " 'I drink,' I said. "He looked up. 'Drink?' " 'Yeah,' I said, 'drink. Come on, the first round's on me.' So we went to this great little bar next to the park and we started to drink. He was a true neophyte, but after the first two or three he did pretty well. And I made sure, each time we started on a new bottle of beer, that we made a toast. 'To life,' I said. "At first the toast lacked any kind of enthusiasm, but after a little while it developed into a cheer, and I knew the guy had found a new game, that he had left behind his depression and even his exemplary image." The goat god smiled and drank noisily from his beer. "That's it?" I asked. "Yeah," Pan said, "that's it. The guy was happy." "Well, what happened to him? Did he quit his job? Did he live happily ever after?" "Oh, he became a hopeless alcoholic." "That story sucks," I said. "You ruined him!" Pan inclined his head and pulled on a huge horn with his hand. "Who ruined him? I just bought the guy a couple of beers." As he had been telling the story, the thought entered my mind that perhaps there was some truth to the theory that the christian story of the devil was based on the earlier, pagan myth of Pan. And perhaps the christians were right. "You ruined him," I reiterated. "You led him into temptation and destroyed him. I understand now. You really are a force of evil. You drove that man to drink and you are conspiring to tempt me away from my meditation." "Conspiring to tempt you?" The goat god scowled. "I don't need this, you know. Would you rather I just left you alone?" "Yes, that's just what I would rather!" "Good!" Pan exclaimed, getting to his cloven feet. "Good! You can just sit here by yourself and meditate, if that's what you want!" The god stamped off into the trees and there was silence. I sat for a moment, my thoughts tumbling over each other. I was upset with Pan for having interrupted my meditation. The world should be rid of this devil, I thought, for surely he is the source of all temptation. I sipped at my beer, but caught myself in mid gulp. I took a long, hard look at the bottle and then tossed it over the edge into the abyss. Damn him, I thought, I may already be too drunk to meditate. Drunk and aggravated. I no longer had that holy, exalted feeling that had carried me into this quest. I felt soiled, debased, pissed off. Perhaps, I considered, the best thing would be for me to take a nap, sleep it off, and then begin my practice again, later, when I would be a little more refreshed. I ate a little of the
food I had in my knapsack and then made myself comfortable beneath the
trees. Soon, aided by the alcohol, I fell into a fitful sleep. The nymph was beckoning to me and as I walked toward her, I realized that she was much farther away than I had thought. And that she was much larger that I had thought. In fact, the closer I got, the larger or three he did pretty well. And I made sure, each time we started on a new bottle of beer, that we made a toast. "To life," I said. She bent over me and I yearned for her, for the vast emptiness of her voluptuous body. She called to me, saying, "Invoke me under my stars! Love is the law, love under will. Nor let the fools new, something entirely different from what he had." So we went to this great little bar next to the park and we started to drink. He was a true neophyte, but after the first two came out and twinkled voluptuously through her body and I soon realized that she was the sky, she was the night, she was the void, his nephew, though not nearly the exemplary person that the man was, got the job. We are sorry but we are unable to use your contribution. There are many reasons why we might not be able to include your submission. The reason will be one of the following: This is when he began searching. He didn't really know what he was looking for, but the situation forced him to take a really good look at his life and he decided that he wanted love. I am above you and in you. My ecstasy is in yours. My joy had thought that he would get it; it had seemed that he was the only do not see me. They are as upon the earth. I am heaven and there my tongue. Come forth, o children, under the stars and take your fill of: 1. The quality is not what we would like it to be. 2. The content would not appeal to the majority of our readers. 3. The work itself does not reflect the positivity and creativity and my lord Hadit. None, breathed the light, faint and faery, of the stars, and two. For I am divided for love's sake, for the chance of union. This is the creation of the world that the pain of division is as nothing and the joy of dissolution all. Great god of the world, bring me to infinity. 4. The volume of submissions we receive daily is overwhelming; for there are love and love. There is the dove, and there is the serpent. Every man and every woman is a star. Every number is infinite; there is no difference. Be thou Hadit, my secret center. Oh, he became a hopeless alcoholic. That is, until the time he was denied a promotion. My god, she was big! She towered over everything. We are sorry but we are unable to use your contribution. There into town. The president, with typical human tribal instinct, wanted order for you to get a prompt response we must forgo written critiques of each submission. In fact, I wonder if there was ever a time when he doubted it. She bent over me and I yearned for her, for the vast emptiness of her voluptuous body. She called to me saying, "Invoke me under my stars! Love is the law, love under will. Nor let the fools the company's president had just graduated from school and moved to see your joy. With the God and the Adorer I am nothing: they submitted sorry. We wish that we could respond individually to each piece, but in blotting out the sky, causing it to become as dark as night. Stars might be great but we can only use a very small amount of the work love. I am above you and in you. My ecstasy is in yours. My joy for I am divided for love's sake, for the chance of union. This is the creation of the world that the pain of division is as nothing and the joy of dissolution all." So we went to this great little that he wanted something started to drink. He was a true qualified person for the job. And two. For I am divided for love's sake, become as dark as night. Stars. This is the creation of the world that. She towered over everything, nothing and the joy of dissolution all. My ecstasy is in yours. My joy infinite nothingness of infinite daily is overwhelming. Your work. She bent over me and I yearned had seemed that he was the only of her voluptuous body. She called alcoholic. My stars! Love is the
law, love under what he had. "This man is meditating very seriously," a voice was saying. I pulled myself up toward consciousness and found the great, grinning face of Pan looming over me. Disorientation fading slowly, I saw that the god was accompanied by two naked, nubile nymphs. "That's an interesting style of concentration," Pan said. " suspect he's learning to do his exercises in the astral body." The nymphs oohed and aahed. "Humans really are kind of silly, aren't they?" commented one in a surprisingly husky, very sexy voice. I attempted to defend my species, but the brief nap had left me too groggy to speak. All that came out was "mmmmmph." "Impressive language skills," said the other nymph. "That is what they're known for." The nymphs giggled and the god let out a basso guffaw. "I hope he'll show us how his species use their famous tools," said the first nymph. I sat up and said, "urghb." They all laughed. Pan said: "I'm going to get some more beer. Then we can get this little party under way." He clattered off into the trees. The nymph with the smaller breasts and the sleek body slid down beside me and slipped her arm around my back. "Hi," she said. My system went on overload. Prior to seeing the first nymph, fleeing from Pan earlier, the thought of women had not entered my mind for about a week. During that time I had been exalted with the quest for this sacred spot, my purpose, I thought, single-minded and pure. But now, with the warm body of this naked nymph nuzzling up against me, every repressed lust and fantasy broke to the surface. Though the air was cool, I broke out in a sweat and felt as if every vein and artery in my body had become engorged with blood. Grogginess turned to dizziness and I found myself entirely incapable of making any kind of verbal response. Not even a "glargh." Somehow I understood when the slim nymph told me that her name was Nysa and her more buxom (and equally attractive) friend was called Hyadie. And then Pan was dancing back down into the clearing, already gulping at a bottle and passing out three more. My mouth felt parched, so I sipped at mine. The beer foamed up and spilled down my front. Nysa wiped it off for me. "Ah!" Pan exclaimed. "I see that everyone's met." "Yes," said Nysa, "we've really been getting along rather well." "Great," the god said. "Let's drink! To infinity!" He hoisted his bottle to his lips and drained away half of the brew. "To infinity!" the nymphs cried exuberantly, sipping at the mouths of the bottles. "Infinity," I managed to say and, guided by some sort of unreasonable instinct, I gulped at the beer. Pan fired up another huge joint and passed it around. I will have to refuse firmly, I told myself, but when Nysa handed me the number, a warm breast brushing against my arm, I took it and toked. Within a matter of seconds a bubbly lightness was filling my mind and body. "How was your, um, meditation?" Pan asked as he took the burning bundle of weed flowers from my fingers. "Oh," I said, "I, ah, just took a little nap. I was a little drunk and tired. I thought it would be better to rest before I got back to it." "How was your nap, then?" Nysa murmured into my ear. "Did you have pleasant dreams?" "I had a strange dream." "What was so strange about it?" Hyadie asked. And it seemed to me then that she had been in the dream. There had been a nymph who had been, had been... something which eluded mental grasp. I wanted to fuck her. "Oh, look!" exclaimed Nysa. "His pants must be so uncomfortable like that. Here, let me help you!" She began to unbuckle my belt. "No," I protested, pushing her hands away. "No!" "Oh, what's the matter?" Hyadie came to join her. The big breasted nymph planted a slippery kiss on my mouth and I was momentarily helpless as Nysa pulled my pants down past my hips. A soft hand caressed my hard-on. Pan laughed. "So I guess you still intend to meditate," the god said. "Oh!" I said. "Yes!" "I think he's getting more spiritual by the moment," Hyadie said. Nysa tried to say something and the sensation sent shivers through my body. I now had no thought of resisting. In fact, I was not thinking at all, merely reacting. My hand slid up along the smooth curve of Hyadie's body, toward a full and voluptuous breast. But my fingers closed on air, the taut nymph nipple evaded my grasp. The nymphs were standing now, dancing back out of my reach, giggling. I leaned toward them, tried to stand and tripped over my pants. Laughing, Nysa and Hyadie ran off into the trees. "Oh, these nymphs do love games," said Pan. "Come on, let's get 'em!" The god leaped up and into the woods. As quickly as I could, impelled by blind impulse, I kicked off shoes and pants and followed, my erect cock leading the way, pulling me forward. I caught up to Pan beside the spring where he was searching for beer among the rocks and bubbling water. "You want a beer?" he called as I dashed past. "Come on!" I shouted. "They'll get away!" The goat god leaped up beside me, the necks of two bottles clutched in an enormous hand. We ran together through the trees, up toward the summit, in pursuit of scurrying, giggling flesh colored flashes of light glimpsed between wood and rock. "I guess you're finished with meditation," Pan panted. "Yeah," I gasped, "fuck that!" "That's a bad attitude," said the goat god. "What? What do you mean? I thought you..." "I never meant for you to give it up! I just wanted you to do it right!" "Do it right? But you..." "I was just doing my job, just like you asked me." "I asked you...?" " 'Great god of the world, bring me to infinity' " Pan mimicked the intonation of my mantra. "I'm bringing you.' "Huh, huh," I gasped. The trail was getting steeper and we seemed to be falling behind. "Faster! Faster!" My cock ached with anticipation. "How much do you want infinity?" the god asked. "I want... I want..." "How much do you want the nymphs?" "I want... I want..." "The nymphs," he said, "can be infinity." The ache of yearning, as impossible as it seemed, grew even more intense. I made some inarticulate sounds and forced my legs to pump even faster. Without apparent effort, Pan matched my speed. "Every act can be sacred," he said. "Every act can be a sacrament. 'Every number is infinite: there is no difference.' " And then we were at the summit. The world fell away, down the mountainside, and was spread out around us on all sides. The sun was preparing to dip below the horizon and the sky was a deep, all encompassing blue, the first and brightest stars beginning to shine. On a flat slab of rock, waiting, naked and radiant, were the nymphs. "To infinity," said the nymphs and the god. "To infinity," I said. |
