midsummer nights story

8/22/2019 Midsummer Nights Story

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Goldrush Girl

Jeanete Winerson

When you mee someone or he rs ime, you orge i as, or

you remember i orever.

We wen o lunch.

I was an expensive resauran wih small ables angled o

give he illusion o space. A small ables shamming space i

is necessary o judge disances careully beween wine glass

and plae, ood and ork, especially when you do no know your

hos/your gues, and especially when you have ordered ood,

no ou o polieness, bu because you are hungry.

I el ha he disance beween us was immense and iny.

We didn know each oher, and your lie was quie separae

o mine. We were polie, ormal, we had our ee ucked back

under our own chairs, and we made sure ha each o us had

enough room.

Bu seeing he way you cu ino your sausages, I undersood

ha you were someone who go hungry oo.

We alked wha did we alk abou? I orge. Whaever we

said was los under he pressure o everyhing no said. You

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Midsummer Nighs | 192

canno say o someone you have jus me I wan o kiss you.

Someimes i is as simple as ha.No or long. Bu someimes.

I waned o kiss you in he way ha I wan o ea cherries

rom he greengrocers sall. I don wan hem in plasic boxes

hal dead rom cold, I wan hem warm, slighly sweaing,

salky, random. I wan o ea hem while I walk round nger-

and-humbing he limes and hrowing handuls o rocke ino

brown paper bags. I wan he smell, he ase, he surprise, he

disagreeable sone.

I smiled a you. I remember ha, and ha you blushed.

We drank pink wine; I remember ha.

I I am going o ell he ruh I can say ha I was looking or

a way ou. I was married, I was elsewhere, I was solid, I was

sable, I was waiing he way people wai or spring. There

was nohing I could do abou he winer bu I was waiing or

he sun.

So when I me you, and I el wha I had no el in such a

long ime simple desire I did no wan o le i go. We walked

or a long ime aer lunch because we did no wan o le go.

Someimes lie is simple and sad. There was a sadness even

already because nohing in his lie holds he only chance is o

move wih he momen, o move wih he ow o lie, bu ha is

hard. Already I was wondering wha would happen, wha would

happen o us, and he mind moves ahead o he ow o lie, and

he hear hangs back, araid, and he rhyhm is wrong, and all

you can rus is your body. And you do.

The golden o your skin was unexpeced. I hough you would

be pale like me and insead I looked like a whie ca lying in a



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Goldrush Girl | 193

pool o sun. The spread o you, like sun on he seps, he climb-

ing o you, sep by sep. The warmh o skin and he colour oskin and he mos known hing in he world a body, becoming

like a pan o gold ha has lain all his ime on he riverbed, and

now is in my ngers.

My own body was like a mine where he sun didn reach. A

dark place, dug bu no li. Sun on me now, and he shine o i,

and he colour o i, and he gold o i, and hese riches.

Goldrush girl.

Minnie runs a bar high up in he Sierra Nevada. Her cusomers

are rough miners rying o make a orune. They are all in love

wih her, and each believes he is he avourie. Bu Minnie

doesn have a avourie; she loves all and none. When he snow

is oo deep o go ou she eaches he men o read and wrie.

Theres a bandi called Ramerrez big price on his head,

WANTED posers everywhere. Minnie keeps he gold hidden in

a barrel o waer. Hell never nd i.

One nigh a sranger shows up a he bar Johnson rom

Sacrameno. He says o Minnie,Do you remember me? And she

answers,I you remember me

I decided o ake you o he opera and Puccini seemed like a

good choice, because he is shamelessly romanic, and because

and his is srange Puccini is where opera usually begins or

beginners, bu less said is ha aer a long long journey round

Mozar and Srauss and Handel and Briten and even Wagner,

back you come o Puccini. Bu no Tosca, or Turando, orMadam

Buterfy, no, where you come back o is Fanciulla del Wes.

I am speaking personally, bu how else is here o speak?

*



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You knew a lo abou opera. I was ricky going o he opera

wih you. Laer, much laer, when we were a he end, I ook youo Trisan and Isolde. I cried all he way hrough. You said ha

you didn like he se.

Bu his is he beginning, no he end, and here is a rush o

gold o my head.

In spring, in he Sierra Nevada, he blue violes push hrough

he snow. I was siting nex o you a he opera, eeling he blue

violes pushing hrough me, and he orce o new lie, and he

colour o new lie, and remembering ha in spring he sun

warms he ground, yes i does, bu as soon as ha happens he

ground warms isel oo, by he energy o growh, he move-

men o roos and shoos.

I realized ha he sun o you had warmed me o growing

emperaure again, and alhough I was sill covered in snow,

here were blue violes.

In he dark I held your hand.

Johnson akes Minnies hand. She asks him o come o supper

in her cabin in he mounains. Shes excied. She ges ou her

Monerrey shoes and shawl and dresses up. The re is brigh.

She checks her hair. The door opens and in he comes

wild,

handsome, shy, he sranger who ravels by he sun.

Do you remember me? Yes, i you remember me

They wan o alk o each oher. I remember ha. Memory

is dialogue. When we alk he brain is promped owards con-

necion. I am a soliary person and I need connecion. I have

i wih plans and animals, and all invisible hings, bu wih



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Goldrush Girl | 195

people i is harder or me. I am no sand-ofsh, or oo shy,

is jus ha I don like supercialiies. I can do small-alk. Iwould raher no alk a all.

You and I alked bes when we had made love. Then boh o

us could alk. In ac, a oher imes, you were rarely here or

me o alk o, and I was lonely. In my marriage I could alk bu

I didn wan o. Wih you, I waned o alk, bu you wouldn le

me. When you le me, you sopped alking o me alogeher. You

never reurned my calls, or my calls or help. I was a shock, bu

in a way, i was only more o he same. Silence and separaion.

In ac, you were always in love wih someone else, bu ha

was never going o work in he way ha you had hoped. Bu

your deepes sel was no wih me. You loved me, and some-

imes you longed or me, bu your deepes sel was elsewhere.

Minnie knows ha; is why she can marry rich Jack Rance

or romanic Sonora. Her deepes sel sayed wih he sranger

who rode ou o Sacrameno. She made a lie. He made a lie,

bu because o each oher, hey couldn make a lie wih any-

one else.

In he cabin i sars o snow, and Minnie ges her bedding ou

and says ha she will sleep by he re and Johnson can sleep in

her bed. She doesn wan him o leave. She doesn wan him

o sop alking. He wans o make love o her bu her gold is her

own, and he can ake i by orce.

The men are all ou searching or he bandi Ramerrez

when

When he door burss open and Johnson has only jus ime o

hide, and heres Jack Rance elling Minnie ha her precious Mr

Johnson is Ramerrez himsel, and he rail ends a her cabin



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*

The sranger is never wha he seems. Never wha we imaginehell be.

I wasn wha you hough Id be, hough I was he miracle

you needed. You weren wha I hoped or, hough you were as

glorious as May ime, and as rich and ull.

The sranger is always a rickser.

Walk home wih me, he music in our heads. Sleep wih me,

he music in our bodies. In he nigh give me courage or he

day. In my dreams, sneak ou o your body and come ino my

head. Sand here. Call ou. Find me.

In he nigh he soness and he darkness are reassuring. I

eel sae. I eel happy. I needed his whaever he cos, whaever

he price o gold I have o pay i. Someimes lie is so close o

running dry ha any price is worh paying or hawed rain, or

he sun on he waer, or he river ha runs, or he clear, cool

moisure ha was locked in he earh and nohing grew.

The buried reasure is really here, bu buried.

I didn hink i would cos so much o nd. I coss every-

hing.

Minnie is so angry. Ramerrez he bandi came o seal he gold.

Johnson he runaway lover came o seal her hear. Bu Minnie

doesn wan o be solen rom; she wans o give. I is hers o

give, no his o seal.

Ramerrez runs ou o he cabin, guily, conused. Minnie

slams he door agains his back hen she hears a sho. He alls

back inside, bleeding, wounded, and she hides him in he lo.

Sheri Rance is a he door now, and in spie o Minnies

dissembling, Ramerrez is bleeding, and his blood is dripping

slowly rom he lo. The blood alls on Rance. He knows wha



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Goldrush Girl | 197

Minnie is up o now. Now here is anoher price o pay; she has

o sake her own lie or Ramerrez. She and Rance play pokeror him. I she loses, Rance ges her or good.

She cheas. She wins.

Bu nohing o any value is ever won ha way. A bes here is

a reprieve, and hen he rue price has o be paid.

Bu has how we end i, a he curain o Ac Two. Minnie

has won her man a cards.

You and I wen ou or an inerval drink. I was so nervous I

ae crisps. I was nervous because I knew he sakes were high,

bu I didn undersand wha I was playing or no really or

how much i was going o cos.

I had he eeling o somehing imporan and simple, blind-

ingly obvious, like a kiss or a waning o kiss. My hear was

beaing oo as. I was gambling he lo. I was going o lose my

house, my marriage, and I wouldn be winning you, because

you were no o be won. I was mysel I had o win. Tha is very

hard, and here are no cards o hide in your skir. You play you

win, you play you lose, you play.

How long have we go? you said. No meaning he inerval.

Will you say wih me? I said. No meaning he nigh.

The rhyhms are wrong he mind runs ahead owards he

ineviable end. The hear holds back ou o ear. Only he body,

only he body, only he body says rue. Poor body, aihul body,

ha so oen mus do he work o boh head and hear, like an

animal made o carry much more han i should.

Ac Three. The snow is deep. The gibbe is ready. The miners

have caugh Ramerrez and he isn Minnies anymore. Hang

him quick beore she comes.



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Hes brave. Is cold. He hinks abou love, and how or one

brie li-up momen he ound i, rue gold, unsealable, gionly. She loved him. She risked her lie or him. He slipped ou

one nigh, his wound hal-healed, o save her, o le her sar

again. He misjudged i because hes a long-haul bandi who

can calculae a raid, bu hes only jus a lover, and so he can

measure a gi. He doesn know ha he gi is so big ha here

is no measuremen.

You ake i or leave i. Love is no barer. Love is no he.

Love is no cards, hough i is a gamble. Love is a gi. Take

i

Minnie woke up, alone a dawn, once more berayed, one more

beraying man, bu love is real and no so easily cheaed. This

is no a game a all.

As hey push him up he rozen gibbe, his hands ied, he

men hear her voice o-sage, and here she is, running hrough

he snow, hrough he pas, hrough he impossibiliy o love o

make love happen. Shes sanding here, in his head, and in his

body and in he world as i is, and as she claims him, she says,

This man is mine.

Up on he gibbe, sanding beside him, she asks he men one

by one o orgive and o each man she ells a sory a sory o

he nigh she sa up wih him when he was sick, a sory o how

she augh him o wrie, a sory o a leter, a sory o a window

iced wih snow, and a re she made on her knees, a sory o

love, because his is a love sory

Is i?

My goldrush girl, we rescued each oher wih a po o gold

o he rainbow kind, and he li-up days were real. Bu you had



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Goldrush Girl | 199

a person and I had a pas and we go rapped somewhere and I

was wounded.I guess I could no judge he disances righ; we boh go oo

close, and ye sayed oo ar away. I guess you could no accep

he gi. Love is such a difcul gi o accep.

Minnie has o leave everyhing, righ here and hen; her bar,

her home, all he lie she had made. And Ramerrez he ban-

di, she ells he men, died ha nigh in her cabin. Is rue, he

did, bu no by a bulle. Loves renewal never happens wihou a

deah o some kind.

She akes his hand and heir racks disappear in he snow.

Aer you le me i el or a long ime as i he world had dark-

ened. I slowed, I was cold, I was underground again. Bu anyone

who srikes gold can keep i. And he sun-gold ha warms

he ground is aihul and ery. Whaever is ound well is ound

orever.

I didn wan you o go because in spie o everyhing ha

was wrong, you el righ o me. I have been in mourning, and

mourning is dark and shrouded. Bu he dark and shrouded

place ha is mourning is no he same as he dead place where

here is no lie.

I don know i I will see you again. And i I do wha we were

will be long gone, he racks in he snow disappeared.

Bu he sun will come again.

And here are blue violes.

midsummer nights story

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