JR (110 page)

He was back at the sofa spearing a sharp pencil into an open jar — choice of fancy snails or a rotting classic of Imperial Old Christ where was I when that idiot… he got the folder, came down on Hoppin' With Flavor! —clear line of thought going bastard comes in with his sonorous tones of horn and millions here, through a glass eye, darkly the one eyed, had that God damn it had it last wait the good eye yes, the good eye … he licked the pencil's point, —the good eye could now peer into Aristotle's kingdom where if every instrument could

accomplish its own work, obeying or anticipating the will of others, like the statues of Daedalus, or the tripods of Hephaestus, which, says the poet God damned cheese and tomato right down the which, says the poet, of their own accord have to type the whole God damned thing over anyhow … he reached for the punctured can —Jesus…! purple dripped from his chin —Christ what did I think I, go anywhere like this

… he was up brushing at his trouserfront, each stroke slower until he was simply standing there staring through the blind below —poor bastards got all five of them fixing a tire so they can push their God damned clubhouse across the street almost envy them, all that senseless God damned energy look at them … He came down more slowly on Hoppin' With Flavor! —problem just no God damned

energy… and where his gaze fell short to the sill, a clothespin dropped. The long hand peaked to lap the short between NO DEPOSIT and NO return —half the God damned day gone… and his head came slowly back to rest against 24-7 Oz Pkgs Flavored Loops, where the sun more

slowly left it.

—Wha … he sat up abruptly, brought a hand up.

—Get that God damned thing… and he was up, crested the plateau of Musical Couriers and seized the mop handle, put his ear to the crevice and pounded the mop handle up and down.

—Do something nice for your mouth God damn you, you…

—Send your mouth on a vacation you son of a bitch there!

—Bastard!

—Oh you bastard you bastard! he plunged the mop handle, pounded it up and down.

—God damn you Christ! how do people … he was on all fours up there back against the ceiling —have one thought one God damned thought one God damned civilized thought in this whole God damned get that God damned thing once for all God damn it … ! he flung the mop handle pulled aside 1899's bound Musical Couriers, Trade Extra 1902,1911, 1909 —no place to put the God damned things… 1903,1908

—must weigh twenty pounds…

—Little bastard you … he heaved at the volumes, dragged up 24-10 Pad Pkgs, 2 Dozen 57 The World's Largest Selling Ketchup, Tonic Water Twist Cap —hell that ironing board get down there … he yanked at 48 No 1 Cans Beef Gravy and books slithered across the heap —can't do it God damn it no place to put them…

—God damned ironing board … he pulled, yanked, finally ripped at the next one sending papers streaming down —good, Christ… and he followed, holding together the torn sides of Tootsie Roll 12 Count, moving more slowly with each sheet after pasted sheet of paper he picked up —God hundreds of them… finally coming to rest on H-O with the torn carton drawn close —started with eighteen seventy-six have to get them all back in, Christ how did I, look at that what did I think I was doing!

The long hand pressed the short ahead till only the sweep of the second hand crossed the arc up behind him, hunched there on H-O turning up page after page —ANI, LEM abbreviated all these God damned references can't remember what they, go through every book in the place again Christ, how I worked on this …

He turned the pages more slowly, finally hunched toward the sill for

the failing light —must have thought I could, like Diderot good God how I ever thought I could do it …

Oh the sill where the clothespin lay, a string had appeared lowered from above bobbing a wad of gum. He stared at it, picked up another page and stared at that —done it then Christ gone ahead and done it then, written it ten years ago with no pressure on me but now… ?

He was watching the gum wad bounce off the clothespin when the phone rang —God suppose she… He got up slowly, in past 200 2-Ply, hesitated before he reached up —yes hello… ? He cleared his throat — not here no, oh it's you Mister Bris… not disturbing me no that's all right, Mister Bast's still off on some sort of business… oh you are?

Didn't realize you and he were business associates Mister Brisboy thought it was more ah … no no didn't mean you didn't regard him as a dear friend, I… just wouldn't get this upset Mister Brisboy I'm sure he wouldn't let that happen, now … No I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you talked to the president of the company, best thing to … here? Sorry I can't no, I … wait no you don't under… Look Mister Brisboy I'd be glad to switch you over if I could but… because I don't know where the hell he is no look I'm just not that familiar with the company's activit… Haven't seen his statement in the paper about franchising out the entire health plan but you can't believe everything you read in the… Rumors of what… ? No I heard the stock was sagging a little but… well I'm sure it really is a fun company Mister Brisboy what I've seen so far it certainly … to tell your mother what… ? Good God wouldn't want that to happen no, look I'd just… listen I'd just wait till Mister Bast gets back and … I'm sure he will yes no reason some story about these Indians having a clouded title to this reservation means he'd be … I'm sure he'll bring his Indian costume back yes never mentioned playing dress up

but of course Mister Bast seems to have a number of talents I nev … he certainly is yes, now … No no I wouldn't do that no, no don't bother to come up here to wait for him no telling when he … No no very kind of you but I … yes good, auf Wiedersehen that is yes…

The gum wad bounded off the clothespin, drew up, dropped and missed in the near dark, drew up again as he came back to stand at the sill knuckles gone white one hand grinding the other, the gum wad bounded, drew up —like Robert the Bruce, Christ! he pried up the window and his fist shot out, pounded the gum on the clothespin snapped up from sight past the blind and he banged down the window

—got to get out of here … tripped against Tootsie Rolls 12 Count, suddenly had it papers jammed in held together and up behind Won't Burn, Smoke or Smell and he was through to the door left tipped on its hinge against a shuffle in the dark hall, a tap.

—Hello, Mister … ? and then no sound but the falling waters until the door shuddered in again with his weight in the darkness threading past 200 2-Ply, coming down among the stacks of mail on the armless sofa where a hand hung off extended open toward the sill as though to seize the day, or hold it off, when it appeared.

There, a pink hair curler dropped, rolled toward the edge and stopped. He came up on one elbow and waited, finally came up all together and drew a hand over the roughage of his chin. The long hand rose from NO DEPOSIT driving the short before it —Christ got to get started got to, to get started … he bumped against Won't Burn, Smoke or Smell, picked up both cups floating teabags on Thomas Register —brought that in last night somewhere just have one to get started… and he was back to set a cup of water on Moody's, tip a bottle over the other. On the sill where the curler lay, string appeared lowered from above bobbing a wad of gum. He stared at it, drank off one cup and then the other, picked up the blue folder and stared at that, patted pockets, rummaged —out and get cigarettes get something to eat come back and get started… and he was through to the door left tipped on its hinge against a tap, a pounding, an expletive, finally the thud of bundles against it.

—Man like what's all this I mean you can't get in the door.

—like climb over it man and I mean help him, like get his foot wait, like help me get the box through… and the shuffle of moccasins, the flap of sandals repeated passing tub and aoo 2-Ply —like you bring him up here this morning to practice I mean he doesn't even bring his

inster-ment…

—Like he'll hum along then man… the mailbag shook over the sofa's end, the guitar came up.

—Man like he's still so spaced out he can't hum shit… she swept the mail from the sofa to join the heap on the floor, dropped a battered paper shopping bag there and opened the box beside it —come on kitty kitty, man like they really shaved his ass I mean where they sewed him up it looks like this fucking football come on kitty kitty kitty…

Plunk. —Like come on man, hum… plunka plunka…

—Man look out for your, oh wow did you see him go up those boxes? Move his, I mean that telephone it's like this burgular alarm move his feet man, like I just come in the door and I mean move him!

Hello … ? He's not here man, who … Like what do I sound like his cat? I mean if you want to leave Mister Bast this message I mean leave it, like I mean who is this … Man like don't give me this family history I mean you're just some bank, right? So like what do you mean you want more

collateral spell it man… So? His stock drops to twelve and an eighth like that's no skin off your ass, what… Like what do you mean the bank's ass I mean why should he bail you out man, like I mean if you need money so you expect him to bring in like five thousand two hundred and eighty dollars? I mean Bast… ? Man like wait I mean nobody gives money to banks like I mean you get money from banks because like that's where all the fucking money is … No man look I mean don't put me on with this eighty percents margin of some falling collateral, like you just said you're selling his stock if he doesn't bring you in this five thousand two hundred and eighty dollars man I mean when you open this ice tray you've got this real surprise coming … No look man I mean

look, like you're this fucking bank, right? So I mean if you're so hard up for this fucking money go look in your fucking bank vault that's where

… oh wow.

Plunk. —Man like hum… plunka plunka…

—Listen man I have to call about this job will you, I mean I don't believe it. Hello… ? He's not here what do you want… Look when some chick calls him I… so like what's the matter with this Mister Wiles can't he dial the … hello? Man like I just told your secretary Mister Bast isn't here what… who? What president man, I mean don't put me…

what of his company? You mean here in this… man like how do I know his position on bellies I mean look Mister Wiles you and him must really be … Look man I don't know about some voting trust taking over like I mean if this commodity exchange has you against the wall and you expect to get this margin money here man? I mean look I just talked to this … no I mean just go to the bank like everybody else does man, like I mean they just tried to put me on the same way you are I mean like go look in their fucking bank vault man that's what banks … oh wow. I mean are these people rude, man.

—Man like hum… plunka plunka —hum, man…

—Like where's that telephone number I have to call man… she braced a foot coming down —like I knew I got these pants too tight… she reached the sagging denims down from the dishcloth rack, sank to 24-12 Oz Btls Fragile! to tug at a clasp —I mean look at that, like I hardly get them and it rips right out I mean they make everything now like they don't give a … she freed a foot from plaid, —man like I don't believe this fucking telephone … and she was up on a bared knee — hello … ? Look man who are you calling … no like this is his number but he's not here, what… who? What company spokesman look man if… no look I mean you said you're this newspaper what are you asking me for, go look in … So they're setting off these four twenty kilotons

to release this natural gas I mean what am I supposed to … Man I mean you're the one who just said they rushed this AEC approval through to beat these envirementalists' injunction I mean what are you ask … No man I mean look, I mean you don't give news to newspapers you get news out of newspapers like I mean that's what newspapers are man, like I mean if you're this newspaper and you want to know if some underground explosion is dangerous I mean go read your fucking

news-pap …

—What in, what Tom? are you…

—Man like are you kidding? I mean like what's the difference if the whole fucking state blows up who would even miss it …

—What the hell is this… he brought a newspaper bundle to the floor with him getting through, faced the expanse bared of plaid where she'd turned reaching up with the telephone. —God damn it what's all this doing here.

—Man like it was there when we came in, I mean…

He got two cartons up balancing a shoebox, —never occurred to you

to, wait what do you mean we. Plunk.

—Like just Al and his group man they came up to rehearse… Plunka plunka plunka plunka