Death on the Installment Plan (82 page)

Plus my overcoat it would help to keep me warm … I still had my bicycling pants … The underwear department was nonexistent … not even a shirt! … When it came to shoes … mine were still holding out, I’d split them open some because they were too narrow … and patched them up with sandals underneath … that made them flexible but cold … The old lady had slippers stuffed into rubbers … she’d have trouble lasting out the trip … They kept all the water in … She bundled them up in old newspapers and string … to make them like real boots, so her feet wouldn’t rattle around inside … Persant was pretty far … And Beauvais was still farther … There was no hope of getting a ride … We ran a little more coffee through the grounds … Then we got together with the cop … He was going to escort us … He was holding his plug by the bridle that still hadn’t been shod … The priest wanted to come too … I’d rather have ditched him … locked him in behind us … But he made a terrible racket the minute he thought he was alone … So that was no solution … Suppose we left him locked up in the house … and he wrecked the joint … Suppose that screwball escaped and climbed up on the roof … And suppose he fell off and broke two or three limbs … Well, who’d be on the spot? … Who’d they accuse? … Us again naturally … Who’d get thrown in the clink? … We would, beyond any shadow of a doubt … So I went and opened the door for him … He threw himself into my arms … He loved me madly … But we couldn’t find the mutt … We wasted at least an hour looking for him … in the shed, in the barn … That fleabite wasn’t anywhere … Finally he showed … We were ready to go …

All those hayseeds waiting outside didn’t say a thing when we left … They didn’t say boo … Not a word … We passed right under their noses … The ditches were full of them … Hicks and more hicks … So we shot off down the road … Shot isn’t exactly the word … we walked pretty gingerly … Only the lunatic ran … He gamboled about, this way and that way … The padre was curious about our itinerary … “Will we see Charlemagne?” he asked us in a loud voice … He didn’t understand a word of our answers, but he didn’t want to leave us … Shaking him was hopeless … Hiking set him up … He put his hunting horn to his lips … he blew a little tally-ho … And just as we were getting into town, he raced back and joined the main body … He ran like a zebra … We came to the first houses … on the way into Persant … with the music going strong … The gendarme turned off to the left … that was the end of his assignment … We could shift for ourselves … He wasn’t keen on our company … he wasn’t going out way … We headed for the station … Right away we asked about the trains … The old lady’s train for Beauvais was leaving in ten minutes … an hour before the one to Paris … She’d have to cross over to the other platform … It was time to say good-bye … We didn’t say anything much … We didn’t make any promises … We kissed each other …

“My goodness, Ferdinand, you’re prickly …” She meant my beard. That was a joke! … She was being brave … That was pretty good in such a rotten situation … She didn’t know where she was going … Neither did I for that matter … We’d been sharing the bad luck for a long time now … This time it had really laid us out … That was pretty well to be expected … There wasn’t much more to say …

In the station the padre was kind of scared right away … He shriveled up in a corner … Only he kept his eyes fastened on me … He just stared at me on the platform … The people around us wondered what on earth we were up to … Especially him and his horn … the old bag in her pants … me and my coat done up with strings … They were afraid to come too close … Then the dame at the tobacco counter looked out and recognized us … “It’s the nuts from Blême,” she sang out … They kind of panicked … The Beauvais train pulled in … luckily … It made for a diversion … The old honeybun hightailed it … she climbed in on the wrong side … She stood in the doorway with Dudule’s little mutt … She waved me good-bye … I waved back … As the train was pulling out, the distress came over her … something awful … She made terrible faces in the window … She went rrrah! rrrah! like her throat was being cut … like some kind of animal …

“Ferdinand! Ferdinand!” she hollered across the tracks … over all the racket … The train beat it into the tunnel… We never saw each other again … the old lady and I … I found out much later that she’d died in Salonika, they told me in the Val-de-Grâce military hospital in 1916. She’d gone out there as a nurse on a troop transport. She died of some kind of epidemic, I think it was exanthematic typhus. So the two of us, the canon and I, were on the other platform, the Paris-bound side. He still had no idea what we were there for … But at least he’d stopped playing his horn … He was only scared I’d leave him in the lurch … As soon as the train pulled in, he jumped in too, right behind me … He stuck to me all the way to Paris … I lost him for a second on the way out of the station … The bastard caught me right away … I lost him again on the rue Lafayette … right across from the drugstore … I took advantage of the crush … I jumped into a trolley in between all the traffic … I got out again a little later … on the Boulevard Magenta … I wanted to be alone for a while … to think and figure out what I was going to do …

My rig was mighty weird … hardly presentable in a city … The people stared at me curiously … the shops and offices were just closing … It must have been a little after seven … I was quite a sensation with my abbreviated raglan … I hid in a doorway … The hardest to take was my overcoat … all bloused out in my pants … it gave me an amazing shape! … And I couldn’t change there … Besides, I didn’t have a hat either … I had Dudule’s little one, a patent-leather Jean-Bart hat.
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I’d worn it out there … Here it wouldn’t do … I chucked it behind the door … There were still too many people for me to venture out on the sidewalk in my fancy dress … I thought I’d wait for the crowd to thin out … I watched the street go by … What struck me first was the new-type buses without an upper story, and the new motor taxies … There were more of them than hansom cabs … They made a terrible ruckus … I wasn’t used to heavy traffic anymore … It made my head spin … I was kind of sick to my stomach too. I bought a croissant and a bar of chocolate … It was time to eat … I put them in my pocket … The air always seems muggy when you get back from the country … It’s the wind you miss … And then I began to wonder if I’d go home to the Passage … And would I go directly? … Supposing the bulls came looking for me? … Maybe the Lisp would send them …

Farther up the Boulevard Magenta I ran into the rue Lafayette … If I took it, it wouldn’t be very complicated … rue Richelieu, the Stock Exchange … I only had to follow the lights … Oh, I knew the way all right … But if I turned right, I’d end up at the Châtelet, the bird vendors … the Quai aux Fleurs, the Odéon … That would take me toward my uncle’s … Finding a bed someplace wasn’t the worst part … I could make up my mind at the last moment … But what about landing a job? … That would be rough … How was I going to get a new outfit? … I could hear the music already … And whom would I go to see? … I came out of my hiding place … But instead of taking the Boulevard, I turned into a little side street … I stop outside a shopwindow … I’m looking at a hard-boiled egg … it’s all red … I says to myself: “I’ll buy it …” I count my money in the light … I still had more than thirty-five francs and I’d paid for my railroad ticket and the padre’s too … I peel the egg on the counter, I bite into it … I spit it out … I couldn’t swallow anything … Hell, it wouldn’t go down … Christ, I says to myself, I’m sick … I was seasick … I go out in the street … Everything was swaying … the sidewalk … the gas lamps … the shops … And I must have been teetering myself … A cop’s heading my way … I speed up some … I cross the street … I hide in another doorway … I didn’t feel like moving anymore … I sit down on the doormat … I’m feeling a little better … I says to myself: “What’s the matter, kid? … You can’t be as lazy as all that? … Haven’t you got the strength to move? …” And still sick to my stomach … The street put me in a panic … seeing it up ahead of me … on the sides … on the right and left … All those housefronts, so closed, so black. Nuts! so uninviting … it was even worse than Blême … not even a turnip to nibble on … I had the heebiejeebies all over … especially in my stomach … and my head. I wanted to vomit … Damn! I couldn’t move at all! I was stuck to the house-front … With my back to the wall like that … no kidding … I had a good chance to remember … how the poor old lady had knocked herself out keeping us all body and soul together … You can hardly imagine … Hell, now I was all alone … Honorine was gone … Balls! … She was a good old battle-ax … she had guts … she’d really struggled for us … We were all fucked now … I was sure I’d never see her again … Positive … It hit me all of a sudden … it made me feel awful … I was sick to my stomach again … I found another doormat … I threw up in the gutter … The passersby were noticing … I had to beat it … Anyway I had to move on …

I stopped again at the end of the rue Saint-Denis … I couldn’t go any further, I found a niche where I couldn’t be seen at all … I felt better once I was sitting down … it was walking that turned my stomach … When I began to feel dizzy, I looked up in the air … It relieved my nausea to look up … The sky was very clear … I think I’ve never seen it so plainly … I was astonished that evening to see it so cloudless … I recognized all the stars … Well, pretty near all of them … I knew all the names … The old clown had pestered me enough with his trajectory orbits … Funny how I’d remembered them … I hadn’t made much of an effort, I’ve got to admit. Caniope and Andromeda … they were right there on the rue Saint-Denis … right over the roof across the street … A little further right the Waggoner, that kind of blinks in the direction of Libra … I knew them all right … It’s a little harder to get Ophiuchus straight … You could easily mistake it for Mercury except for the asteroid … That’s a neat trick … But you pretty near always get the Cradle and Berenice mixed up … Pelleas is a hard one to pick out … That night you couldn’t miss it … That was Pelleas to a T … north of Bacchus … a nearsighted ape could have found it … Even the “great nebula of Orion” was clear as day … between the Triangle and Ariadne … You couldn’t go wrong … A unique, exceptional opportunity … in Blême we’d only seen Orion once all year … And we’d looked for it every night … Kid Spyglass would have been mighty glad of the chance to observe it so distinctly … he was always going on about it … He’d published a guide about the “Asteroidal References” … there was even a whole chapter about the nebula of Antiope … It was really a surprise to be seeing it in Paris … where the sky is famous for being so smutty and opaque … I could hear Courtial raving about it … I could hear him gassing away beside me on a bench …

“You see, my boy, the one that trembles? … that’s not even a planet … it’s a fake … It’s not even a point of reference, not even an asteroid … It’s nothing but a vagabond … see what I mean? … So watch your step … A vagabond … Wait another two million years, maybe then it will give off a profuse light … Maybe then you’ll be able to get a picture … Right now it’s a phony and you’ll ruin your whole plate … That’s all the good it’ll do you … And those vaporids are deceptive, my boy … It’s not even a periodic comet … Don’t let them fool you, Antonio … The stars are a lot of floozies … Look before you leap! … They’re no little white elves … Watch your dynameter … A quarter of a second’s exposure! … A quarter tenth and your film is shot! Oh, they’re fierce … they’re incorrigible … Watch your step, Lolita … They don’t give plates away at the Flea Market … Not by a long shot, my dear bishop …” I could hear all the old blarney … “Once you’ve looked at a thing, you ought to remember it forever … Don’t force your intelligence … it’s reason that gums everything up … Give your instinct a chance … Once it gets a good look, the game is won … It’ll never deceive you …” My reason had taken a powder … all I had left was blotting paper in my legs … I kept on walking though … And then I found another bench … I crumpled against the back … It wasn’t exactly warm anymore … it seemed to me that the old boy was there on the other end, turning his back to me. I was seeing things … I shot the shit in his place … his exact own words … I wanted to hear him talk … to remember everything he’d said … He was in front of me on the pavement … “Ferdinand! Ferdinand! Ingenuity is man! … Don’t waste yourself on low thoughts …” He told me all his fairy tales, and I remembered them all together … I was talking out loud … The people stopped to listen … They must have thought I was drunk … So then I shut my trap … But it stirred me up just the same … my dome was all full of it … Those memories really had a hold on me … I couldn’t believe the old clothespin was dead … And yet I could see him with his head all marmalade … the meat still twitching … and messing all over the road … Hell! And the farm at the bottom of the hill! … and that Arton bitch and her kid! … and the trowel! … and the wheelbarrow! … and me and the old lady wheeling him down the road … Ah, the bastard! He wouldn’t let go! He went bouncing through my memory … I thought of all those things … the Insurrection bar … Formerly … the
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on the rue des Bon-Enfants … his cock-eyed rays … And all those putrid potatoes … Ah, it was stinking when you think of it … the way that bastard lied to us … And now he was starting in again … He was right there in front of me … next to the bench … His meat smell was there … My nose was full of it … That’s the presence of death for you … when you do their talking for them … All of a sudden I stood up … I couldn’t stand it … I was going to let out one terrible yell … and get myself pinched good and proper … I lifted up my eyes … so as not to see the housefronts … They made me too sad … I saw his face too much on the walls … behind all the windowpanes … in the darkness … Up there Orion-tes had disappeared … I’d lost my landmark in the clouds … But I managed to find Andromeda … I kept looking … I looked for Caniope … the one that blinks at the Dipper … Naturally I got dizzy … I started walking again anyway … I went down the Grands Boulevards … I came back to the Porte Saint-Martin … I was dead on my feet … I was zigzagging … I knew it myself … I was scared pink of the cops … They thought I was tight too … In front of the clock at the Nègre I went “pst, pst” to a cab … He took me in …