Frolic of His Own (79 page)

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Authors: William Gaddis

BOOK: Frolic of His Own
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—Don't be silly no, I'd forgotten all about it.

—Forgot! how could, there. There, you're just ridiculing it like some stupid case of No Fault case of, forgot all about it! brandishing the pages at her —look at it it's a travesty, they make a movie that's a vulgar travesty and now they make a travesty of the whole judicial process, read it!

—I don't want to read it Oscar.

—Well then don't! They took in three hundred and seventy million dollars it says it right here in the socalled master's accounting and they're claiming the movie lost eighteen million how could it! Three hundred seventy million dollars in gross receipts and I was supposed to get all the profits till they got away with apportioning my share only to what they stole from me when we didn't show up to contest it because Sam had gone fishing and Basie was busy somewhere making brooms? What Harry called their creative accounting, all the profits and suddenly they're figuring the fair market value of what they stole calling it goods and services down there with the hairdresser and they decide to give me a fifth of the market value because the rest of it's in the public domain and the success of the movie was due to everybody but the creator of the idea that was frail to begin with and my claim to it is tainted anyway because they didn't steal my last act, the scenarist made up the whole resolution of the story from historical sources he says he dug up somewhere? So the master's accounting here says they're using the ratio of two point five of the gross receipts to costs whatever that means, seven million for Kiester and how many million for that stick of an actor Bredford with another three million for Anga Frika's tits and forty million more for advertising them? No wonder they lost eighteen million.

—I mean you scarcely need me to make a mockery of it then do you, I thought you'd got some kind of an award.

—I did! I end up getting look at it, it's not even two hundred thous it's not even enough for these legal bills it's just Harry trying to cheer me up with all his talk about the court's discretion making me an award in lieu of actual damages and profits what can I do about it, I can't ask Harry can I?

—No you can't, Oscar.

—But, no I didn't mean . . .

—You didn't mean what! Blaming him as though he'd, as though he's gone to Bermuda on a vacation? blaming Sam who went fishing and Basie for sitting in prison somewhere making brooms? My God think about it! You said they grossed three hundred and seventy million dollars? you said you thought you were going to get all the profits? you said they cut that down to one fifth and their creative accounting shows they lost eighteen million? If they'd based your award on actual damages and profits you'd have twenty percent of nothing wouldn't you? You'd have a fifth of minus eighteen million is that what you want? you'd owe them three and a half million dollars is that what you want?

—Well that's, no that's absurd Christina that's insane, it's . . .

—Think about it! I mean my God you can be glad you may come out with enough to buy yourself one last bottle of your Pinot Grigio, will you stop waving those papers around and weeping over money is that all you can think about? when we, when there are real things to weep over?

—No, Christina? and this time he was up, his arms wide in embrace but so was she, turning her back on him in her hard stride toward the windows —I'm sorry, I didn't mean . . .

—I mean we're not going hungry, are we? she said from there, gazing out over the still pond —we're hardly destitute after all.

—Well you're not. With whatever Harry left and this life insurance, I don't think it even gets taxed and it's more than twice this miserable award of mine with these legal bills and all those medical expenses that . . .

—I'll believe that when I see it, expect a free lunch from Bill Peyton with Masha out there spitting in the soup I'll believe it when I can taste it.

—Well I told you what he said on the phone didn't I? He really sounded upset about it Christina. They're using all the pressure they can to get this settlement and they have the leverage, an old line firm like that with all their prestige they really have the leverage and it's not even costing them anything out of their own pocket is it? You just said they're afraid of anything that would reflect badly on the firm's image they're protecting that too aren't they? the way Harry always talked about protecting the firm? That's what it was all about even if he'd died with just the change in his pocket and you've got the penthouse, you've still got the penthouse in there too haven't you?

—I don't know what I've got Oscar! she finally turned on him —my God, you sound like that idiot Norrie will I keep the penthouse. Harry handled all of it, the mortgage, financing all I know is we bought it at the top of the market and he certainly didn't die with just the change in his pocket! And I mean my God if he'd been a senior partner, if they'd made
him one a year or two ago like they should have he'd be billing four or five hundred dollars an hour and sitting under the Christmas tree with the other senior partners sharing the profits on the millions pouring in from every case the firm handles he had nothing to do with, we'd be . . .

—Like mine.

—What do you mean like mine, he'd be . . .

—I said like mine Christina! I said he'd be sharing the blood money that movie paid them for stealing my work and running up my legal bills and destroying everything I . . .

—Oscar that's ridiculous, I mean Harry didn't know they were hiring his firm to defend their . . .

—That's what you just said! that he'd be sharing the profits from leaving me with twenty percent of nothing to buy one last bottle of Pinot Grigio while you're sitting up there in a penthouse with . . .

—Oscar that's enough! I mean my God that's just the way that whole marvelous self regulating conspiracy works, there's nothing he could do about it and nobody's sitting in a penthouse, we're sitting right here and I mean we're certainly not destitute are we? Here's Father's estate if that clown can stay sober long enough to get it together, he told Harry it should come to over five million, five and a half I mean we're not going to go hungry are we?

—Yes but it's, that includes this house, most of his estate is in this property Christina. All I have of whatever's left in that Maryland trust now without Father there doling it out will go to upkeep and paying the taxes here like my mother meant it for so I'd always be sure to have the . . .

—Have what Oscar! her arms suddenly flung out embracing beam and scantling, hearth and newel, casement lights and dark wainscot —are you starting all this again?

He'd sunk down there on the sofa staring at her like a child, —but what . . .

—All of it! This property and this old house where my mother dragged me in like an orphan, sorting out what's yours and what's mine? My insurance claim and your ridiculous award, my bank and your mother's trust, my penthouse and this place that's yours because it was hers, Winifred Riding daughter of a wealthy Long Island architect and landowner when she married your father my God Oscar it's a hundred years ago! Your sainted mother it's history, it's all just history! and she turned back to the window, looking out over the pond —playing like we did as children by the shores of Gitche Gumee? stilled by that unheard of coldness, that intolerable winter on the shining Big-Sea-Water passed the swan, the Mahnahbezee, Mahng the loon with clangorous pinions, the blue heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, —all your outrage over Father, how you've fought
since we were children? bringing back his youth of passion and the beautiful Wenonah stooping down among the lilies as a car door slammed outside, up the hall the glass doors clattered followed by the snap of footsteps wayward as the Minnehaha with her moods of shade and sunshine, eyes that smiled and frowned alternate, all he'd told to old Nokomis was his fight with Mudjekeewis, not a word of Laughing Water.

—I swear, I'll kill him! she burst in at them tearing off her coat, —Oscar? I'm going to need to have seven hundred dollars.

—Well but wait, I . . .

—What in God's name for, Lily. I mean they didn't find . . .

—I'll kill him, I swear it! These implants he put in they said one of them ruptured, that's what this lump was they said if I don't take it out I'll have all this silicone jelly running all through my body you know what it cost me? I mean it was Al, he wanted me to have big ones it was Al all the time he said once so he could play telephone with them he didn't care what it cost so that's where he got me this fancy Doctor Kissinger, the same one you were talking about that time? with that friend that brought that Mister Mudpye out here looking down my front I just saw her at the airport, she said to tell you she got married.

—Well I'm hardly surprised, I mean people will do anything but . . .

—I mean I just need you to loan it to me Oscar because I'll be able to pay you back because I'm going to sue him, I can still feel his squishy hands on them I'll sue him for everything he's got so I don't even need to care about Daddy's money anymore if the Lord calls him and this Reverend Bobby Joe gets his slimy hands on it because I'm going to sue him too.

—Yes but I mean my God Lily, at least you can be happy it didn't turn out to be cancer after all, you . . .

—Why should I be happy, I mean if it was who am I supposed to sue? Oscar? turning on him arms akimbo, her small fists jammed against her hips —what's the matter, you mad at me or something? and I mean look, you didn't even eat my eggs.

—He's upset about something else Lily, he found a letter in that mess over on the sideboard that nobody bothered to give him and . . .

—Who's supposed to hand it to him, some secretary? and she was already over there sweeping the heap together —you want to help me clean it up?

—Later yes, it's high time isn't it. I think I feel a draft, is something open?

—Now. I mean now. I told you I'm airing out that smelly bathroom and the library didn't I? and those sheets that have to go in the wash, you want to keep this Oscar? where you're invited to join this panel of distinguished
Americans discussing vital issues of the day at the National Speakers Association?

—No, but . . .

—Or this camping equipment and patio furniture? Here's your hearing date in a product liability action by Ace Fidelity Worldwide against So-sumi Motors regarding injuries . . .

—They postponed that no, put it, put it somewhere . . .

—It's already somewhere that's the trouble.

—There's a blue folder someplace, put it . . .

—This? Overdue. Overdue. Overdue?

—Those are, yes, those are just bills put it . . .

—The Bursar's Office informs you that a lien has been placed against your salary as of . . .

—Well what are you going to do about that Oscar, have you called them?

—No, it's that ambulance chaser who . . .

—And that sleazeball, I'm going to sue him too unless Al gets him first, tulip bulbs? boating equipment? Luxor, you going to Luxor?

—My God Lily just throw it all out, it's . . .

—Wait what's that.

—Hobbytime?

—Yes no keep it, it's my fishtank keep it, give it to me.

—Over whose dead body, here's your father's obituary you want to keep that?

—Well good God of course, it's . . .

—You can put it with those ashes in there, you keeping them too?

—Well good God yes!

—From Schriek Mohlenhoff & Shransky, it says statement.

—It's a bill just put it with the, but there's another one I'm looking for from them somebody named Preswig I have to call him, he . . .

—Then why don't they just call it a bill, you want to keep this thing? Opinion of the Court, James B, minor, v. Spotskin?

—Yes keep it, yes, it's Father's decision in the . . .

—Ladies Historic Preservation Society that can go, Dear Doctor Crease that can go, Here's Gunnin' for You that slimeball Mickey Mouse was I ever dumb. You have been selected by the board of directors for your biographical entry in the exclusive new volume Five Thousand Important American Men?

—No stop it, throw it out it's . . .

—Here's a bunch of these real old letters tied up with this dirty string, throw it . . .

—No wait Lily, I forgot all about it Oscar it's those old letters Father
pried out of that bogus historical society, our charming visitor dug them out of that old Gladstone with his assorted bottles and gamy socks in one of his half sober moments hellbent on reading me the letter of the law, U.S. Code this and per stirpes that rescuing them from the furnace with the rest of Father's papers while he sat here ready to burn down the house with those vile Picayunes.

—Oscar? the packet came sailing through the air —you can put them with your ashes in there and here, Hiawatha's Magic Songbook? and some old letter from your Ace insurance company, you want it? Oscar?

—My God give it to him, Oscar call them and find out who dumped that car out there, I told you I want it off the property didn't I? will you call them? right now? And Lily that's really enough for now, just throw the rest of it out and let us get our breath.

—I'm going down and do the laundry, you want to bring down your sheets from upstairs?

—I said isn't this enough! I mean my God we're all exhausted, I'm still spinning with those awful voices of Harry's sisters and his whole, and, and his obituary in the paper like something you just happen to read in the paper and tomorrow there's another paper and nobody, and Oscar look at him sitting there with his lapful of trash all his wildest hopes for his award from the appeals court gone up in smoke, gone up in some bookkeeper's creative accounting my God can't we just, can't we do the laundry tomorrow and just stop and, and have a cup of tea and get our breath?

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