This Heart Got Teeth

Silhouetted by Giants

The lights in the theater flicker and the audience members begin to find their seats. John Smith and Pocahontas approach from opposite aisles and take their seats next to each other in the center of the front row.

"John," she says.

"Pokey," he says. Pocahontas rolls her eyes.

The screen flickers to life. The elderly sounding narrator informs the audience that this is a tale about love; one of the true great love stories in history. As he speaks, the animated scene pans across the ocean to a ship. The shot narrows in, coming to focus on a man. He is square jawed, rugged and handsome. His blonde hair blows in the sea breeze perfectly, as if there were someone just off camera pointing a fan at him. The narrator introduces our hero as the brave and noble John Smith, on his way to America in the name of the Queen to begin colonizing the strange new land. He begins to sing a musical number.

"Ooh, I love this one," says John Smith in the darkness. This John Smith hardly matches the dashing masculine ideal on the screen before him. This John Smith has rust red hair, a scraggly wire brush beard, and a gut that has seen more beer and rich food than exercise and hard work.

"You would," says Pocahontas.

The scene has shifted from ocean to forest. A young American Indian maiden runs through the trees full of life and spirit. She too, sings. The animals come to watch her, to hear her voice, as if enchanted. Even the trees seem to bend her way as they would to the sun. They hung on her enchanting voice, drawn in by her symmetrical face, space black hair, and perky breasts. She is none other than the princess Pocahontas.

In her seat, Pocahontas feels sick to her stomach. Sitting in the darkness she more closely resembles the beautiful frolicking giant projected before her, but only because she has black hair. In her seat, this Pocahontas' hair is trimmed short, in a neat, bristly buzz cut. One eye is noticeably higher than the other, her breasts not so perky. When she speaks, phlegm rattles in her chest from her two pack-a-day habit; only a prisoner serving a very long sentence could be enchanted by this voice.

The show continues and before long our star-crossed meet. A hint of nervousness, a touch of foolish pride, but it's unmistakable that it's love at first sight. The coy looks and the swelling music leave little doubt.

"This takes me back. You remember how we first met?" says John Smith.

"I was bathing in the river. You tried to rape me," says Pocahontas.

"Nonsense. You were hypothermic and I was merely trying to warm you up," says John Smith.

Pocahontas lets out a sharp hacking cough that comes from deep in her chest. 

On the screen, their love grows like kudzu, wild and frantic. It's as if no two people in the history and future of the world have ever loved or will ever love each other as much as these two. But suddenly, in the microscopic increment of time it takes for things to go from perfect to ruined, their love is in trouble. They have been found out and her father is not pleased. Oh the drama and the betrayal! He calls for the blood of John Smith and rages about, snapping at friend and foe alike.

"How's your dad doing, anyway?" asks John Smith.

"Dead. Three years now. Prostate cancer," says Pocahontas.

"Happens to the best of us," says John Smith. Pocahontas could really use a cigarette about now.

The climax approaches. John Smith is tied up and forced to kneel. The chief, the very personification of overprotective fatherly rage, raises his war club above his head, ready to smash John Smith's brains all over the rocky ground. The village has gathered around and the women begin to wail, mourning the violent destruction of so perfect a love. The club swings down and all seems lost. But, no! At the last possible moment, Pocahontas throws herself across her lover, ready to take the blow in his stead. The chief halts his strike and Pocahontas pleads her case before her father and her village. She pleads the case of love.

"I did love you, you know," says John Smith.

"No you didn't. You just wanted access to my village's resources, to make you a hero to the queen," says Pocahontas.

"Maybe. But you loved me," says John Smith

"No. I fucked you. Once. But I never loved you. I only did it because my father wanted your guns," says Pocahontas.

"Maybe," says John Smith.

The lovers' plight does not go unheard and the stony chief's heart is melted. John Smith is released from his bonds and the tribe cheers. Tears stream down Pocahontas' face as John Smith embraces her tightly. The credits have not yet started, but in the darkness John Smith and Pocahontas stand. They turn and walk toward opposite aisles and go their separate ways, two shapes silhouetted by the light of a last lingering kiss shared by giants. 

The audience claps.

Long live Love.