Our Gang (25 page)

Read Our Gang Online

Authors: Philip Roth

BOOK: Our Gang
12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

THE ASSASSINATION OF TRICKY 1 ,

you know-but this one was real uppity and he starts

saying we're both full of it, he did it, and the

chauffeur tells him to get at the end of the line and

wait his turn, and that really starts the thing going,

and the next thing you know there are fifteen guys

all swinging at one another, claiming they all did it,

too. Well, if it wasn't for the officer, I'm not

kidding, somebody might have gotten hurt. It could

have been awful."

"So you have nothing but praise for the police?"

"Well, yes-up to a point. I mean he broke this

thing up one-two-three, but then when it was all

over he still wouldn't make any arrests. In fact, once

he'd separated us, he just disappeared, like the Lone

Ranger used to. I can't find him anywhere. Some of

the other guys want to find him, too. See, we gave

him these confessions and all this incriminating

evidence, and so onand you know what he did with

it? He just tore it up, even while he was running

away. Fortunately, I had my secretary xerox all this

stuff at my office, so I've got a copy at home, but a

lot of these guys were foolish enough to give him

the only copy of their confessions that they had.

About the only good thing to come out of this is the

possibility that because the fifteen of us were seen

all huddled together on the pavement here,

pounding each other's heads in, we might get picked

up as a conspiracy. That
is, if
we can find

176
OUR GANG

a cop. But go try to find even a plainclothesman

when you need one. Hey, you're not authorized to

make an arrest, are you, by your network or

something?"

"-and so in they continue to come. And now they

have told us why. They come not as they came to

Washington to mourn the death of President

Charisma. Nor do they come as came they did to

Atlanta, to follow behind the bier of the slain Martin

Luther King. Nor come do they as to the railroad

tracks they did, to wave farewell as the tragic train

that bore the body of the murdered Robert

Charisma carried to its final resting place, him. No,

the crowd that cometh to Washington tonighteth,

cometh not in innocence and bewilderment, like

little children berefteth of a father. Rather, cometh

they in guilt, cometh they to confesseth, cometh

they to say, `I too am guilty,' to the police and the

FBI. It is a sight, moving and profound, and

furnishes evidence surely, if evidence there need

surely be, of a nation that has cometh of age. For

what is maturity, in men or in nations, but the

willingness to bear the burden-and the dignity-of

responsibility? And surely responsible it is, mature it

is, when in its darkest hour, a nation can look deep

within its troubled and anguished blah blah blah

blah blah blah blah the guilt of all. Of course, those

there are who will seek a scapegoat, as

THE ASSASSINATION OF TRICKY
177

those there will always be, human nature being

what it is instead of what it should be. Those there

are who will self-righteously stand up and shout,

`Not me, not me.' For they are not guilty, they are

never guilty. It is always the other guy who is guilty:

Bundy and Kissinger, Bonnie and Clyde, Calley and

Capone, Manson and McNamara-yes, the list is

endless of those whom they would make

responsible for their own crimes. And that is what

makes this demonstration here in Washington of

collective guilt so blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

blah blah. The blah blah of the spirit and the blah

blah blah blah blah blah for which our sons have

died blah blah blah blah blah blah reason and

dignity blah blah blah blah blah dignity and reason.

No, blame not those who gather here in Washington

to confess to the murder of the President.

Ratber, praise them for their courage, their blah

blah blah, their blah and their blah blah blah, for

blah blah blah blah as are you and I. We are all

guilty. And only at the
risk
of blah blah blah blah

blah blah blah blah blah blah forget. This is Erect

Severehead from the nation's blah."

"-the masochists, the mainliners, the minorities

who think they are the majorities, the mashers, the

masturbators, the mental cases, the misanthropes,

the momma's boys, the much-adoaboutnothingites,

the
milquetoasts-"

178
OUR GANG

"Gentlemen, because of the developing interest

around the nation in the situation here in

Washington, we have decided to move somewhat

faster than we had originally planned, and to release

to you tonight the x-ray of the other hip. We hope

that by releasing the x-rays of
both
of the

President's hips, the right virtually within a few

hours of the left, we will be able to restore some

perspective as regards this whole situation."

"You mean by that the assassination, Blurp?" "I

don't know if I want to use a highly

inflammatory word like that at a time like this.

It may not sell newspapers, but I'd just as soon,

for the sake of accuracy, stick to `the situation."' "In

other words, you are now admitting that

there is `a situation.'

"I don't think we ever denied that."

"What about the funeral, Blurb?"

"Let's deal with the situation first, then we'll

get to the funeral. Any other questions?" "Where

is the President's body right now?" "Resting

comfortably."

"Comfortably in the baggie or out of the

baggie?"

"Gentlemen, don't push me. He's resting comfortably.

That's the important thing."

"Will he be buried in the baggie, Blurb? One

report is that the First Lady has decided that given

his dedication to the rights of the unborn,

burial in the baggie would be fitting and proper.

Like King's body being pulled by a mule train."

"Whatever the First Lady decides, I'm sure it'll be

in good taste."

"Blurb, what about Mr. What's-his-name? He's

still back of the podium saying it didn't happen, that

it's a pack of lies. Do you have any idea what he's

talking about?"

"No comment."

"Blurb, is it true that the oath of office has

already been secretly administered to the Vice

President between speaking engagements, and that

he actually is the President at this very moment?"

"Why would we do a thing like that? Absolutely

not."

"Mr. President, can you tell us now why the oath

of office was administered to you secretly between

speaking engagements, so that actually you were the

new President even while you went around claiming

that the stories of President Dixon's assassination

were lies perpetrated by the enemies of this

country?"

"I think the answer to that is obvious enough,

gentlemen. You cannot have a country without a

President any more than you would want to have a

cackle-dooper without a predipitous, or, likewise, a

caloodian without a pre-pregoratory predention. Of

course, the dreedles, the drishakis and the dripnaps

would give their eyeteeth to have it otherwise, but

the sworn swaggatelle of this sirigible, and the

truncation of our truthfulness will not be trampled

and torn, so long as I, as President, vent such

vindictiveness as the avengers varp."

"President What's-his-name, there is an admittedly

ugly rumor to the effect that the reason you

denied any knowledge of the President's

assassination was because you were fearful that

otherwise the finger of suspicion might be pointed

at you. Do you have anything to say about that

admittedly ugly rumor?"

"Yes, I have this to say and I propose to say it so

that there is no doubt about my feelings on this

matter later. If the creeps and the cowards that

crucify the crelinion, crip after crip, and who

furthermore-and we have proof of thishave

crossbowed the cradalious ever since the first

crackadoes crusaded in the cause of caliphony, if

they think they can cajulate and castigate and get

away with it, there will be such a cacophony of cabs,

cassanings and crinoleum through the criss and

cratch of this country, that the crypto-callistans and

the quasi-clapperforms will quiver rather than coopt

the crokes."

"Sir, while we're on the subject of admittedly

ugly rumors, can you comment on one that suggests

that the reason you kept saying the President was

alive when you knew he was dead,

THE ASSASSINATION OF TRICKY 181

was because you were fearful that either a coup on

the part of the Cabinet, or an armed revolt by the

people, would have prevented you from taking

office, had you announced openly your intention to

do so? Were you frightened that they wouldn't let

you be President because you weren't qualified?"

"Far from fear, what I felt was a filarious

frostification at the far-reaching fistula into which

fate had feductively fastinguished me."

"Sir, will you comment on Mrs. Dixon's decision

to bury the President in his baggie at Prissier? Were

you consulted on this, and if so, does it mean that

your administration will be as committed as was his

to the rights of the unborn and the sanctity of

human life and so on?"

"Well, of course, not just me, but zillions and

zillions of our zircos, zaps of our zilpags and

zikons of our zikenites-"

"So the blah blah blah blah of state has been

passed. Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah has

ended and the republic that blah blah blah.blah

reason blah blah blah blah. Heavy are our blah blah

blah blah blah blah blah blah blah corridors blah

blah blah that he loved. And the cherry blossoms.

Blah blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah. Blah

blah blah blah blah lest we blah blah blah blah blah

our civilization with it. We can ill afford that. Blah

blah blah blah blah

182 OUR GANG

back to normal blah blah blah blah. Blah blah

blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. Blah blah

blah blah of America, from the humblest citizen

to the blah blah blah blah. Blah blah 1776 blah

blah? Blah. Blah blah 1812 blah blah blah? Blah

blah. Blah blah 1904-1907? Blah! Blah blah blah

blah blah blah blah reason and dignity. Blah blah

blah blah reason. Blah blah blah blah blah dignity.

Blah blah blah blah blah blah fulfillment of the

Other books

Speak Softly My Love by Louis Shalako
Bewitching in Boots by Lila di Pasqua
The Good and Evil Serpent by James H. Charlesworth
A Delicate Truth by John le Carré
Campaign Ruby by Jessica Rudd
The Invisible Hero by Elizabeth Fensham
No pidas sardina fuera de temporada by Andreu Martín, Jaume Ribera