Read Outside the Dog Museum Online
Authors: Jonathan Carroll
Outside the Dog Museum (11 page)
“That’s true.” I took out a Simply Red album and put it on the turntable. When it came on, it hissed and sputtered terribly. “How come all my albums lisp?”
“Because you don’t take care of them. I keep telling you to buy a CD machine.”
I walked back to the bed, sat down on the end, and took her right foot in my hand. “CD machines and microwave ovens are too late twentieth century for me. I still need a record player where you load records on the spindle and they drop down on top of each other.”
“How come you’re such a jazzy architect but conservative about things like that?”
I started massaging her foot. “I’m not conservative. I simply believe soup should be heated on a flame and not shot full of radiation. Records should be black and full of scratches. You go to the record
store and ask the guy for a diamond needle.” I put down her foot and picked up the other. She rubbed the free one up my back.
store and ask the guy for a diamond needle.” I put down her foot and picked up the other. She rubbed the free one up my back.
“How come you’ve been such a pain in the ass lately?”
The massage stopped. I didn’t turn around. “How have I been such a pain in the ass lately?”
“Look at me. You survived the earthquake, you’re going to crazy Saru for one of the great projects of your career, women love you—”
“Ah ha, is
that
what we’re talking about, Fan? All these women who love me? Is that why I’m such a pain in the ass? I just had this same damn conversation with Claire.”
that
what we’re talking about, Fan? All these women who love me? Is that why I’m such a pain in the ass? I just had this same damn conversation with Claire.”
“Well I’m not Claire! She’s the tall one, remember?” She whipped off the hat and threw it at me. It hit my chin.
I reached down to the floor for my pants. “She wanted to know what’s going on between you and me. She has that right.”
“And do I have that right? What
is
going on between you and me?”
is
going on between you and me?”
“You have a really original way of getting on my nerves, Fanny: accuse and cringe. Point a stiff finger and then whine. Sometimes you have the backbone of a stick of butter.
“Yes, you have the right to know what’s going on between us. I’ve always told you. But now it sounds like you want a life commitment, and
that
you can’t have.”
that
you can’t have.”
“I didn’t say that. I wouldn’t want to live with you, Harry. Your car only has room for one person.”
“I didn’t
ask
you to live with me. Where’s my fucking shirt? You know something? Life just dries up sometimes. Dries up and turns into a brown withered pod.”
ask
you to live with me. Where’s my fucking shirt? You know something? Life just dries up sometimes. Dries up and turns into a brown withered pod.”
She grabbed my hair from behind but I wouldn’t turn. Seeing that, she came around and squatted in front of me.
“You’re so full of shit, Harry. Your life didn’t ‘dry up.’ If anything, you
grew
up a little and saw that what you were doing was a bunch of baloney.
grew
up a little and saw that what you were doing was a bunch of baloney.
“You designed all those exquisite buildings, ignoring the fact,
beyond some calculations for space, that real live human beings lived inside them! That’s why you went nuts—for once you clicked out of the Ptolemaic universe of Harry Radcliffe and realized there were some brighter, more important suns than even you. Know what a couple of those suns are? Responsibility and love. That’s right!
beyond some calculations for space, that real live human beings lived inside them! That’s why you went nuts—for once you clicked out of the Ptolemaic universe of Harry Radcliffe and realized there were some brighter, more important suns than even you. Know what a couple of those suns are? Responsibility and love. That’s right!
“I’ll tell you what’s making you so nervous these days: You’ve got the love of two damned good women but you don’t know what to do with us. You can’t just draw us as a couple of lines and make some estimates. Love is hard work! It breaks your bones. Stop getting dressed. I’m talking to you!”
“Keep talking, Fanny. I’m sure the walls would love to hear your next soliloquy. Come on, dog. Time for a walk.”
THE SPIDER CLUB MEETS
every Wednesday for dinner at Rachel’s Restaurant in Santa Monica. Club membership varies between ten and twenty people depending on who’s in town, who’s feuding with whom, who’s still alive. The only requirement is invitation by another club member who’s willing to vouch for the fact you can tell a good story. Over the years there’ve been celebrities at the “conclaves,” but stars don’t like sharing a stage so they’ve had a hard time listening to the others. And generally, it is those others who tell the better stories.
every Wednesday for dinner at Rachel’s Restaurant in Santa Monica. Club membership varies between ten and twenty people depending on who’s in town, who’s feuding with whom, who’s still alive. The only requirement is invitation by another club member who’s willing to vouch for the fact you can tell a good story. Over the years there’ve been celebrities at the “conclaves,” but stars don’t like sharing a stage so they’ve had a hard time listening to the others. And generally, it is those others who tell the better stories.
My last night in America was also Claire’s first out of the hospital. She insisted we go to the Spider Club meeting, which was a real surprise because she’d only been one other time. But when it was her turn, she’d told a long, very eerie story about the funeral of a close friend some years before.
We were late getting there because she moved slowly and I didn’t want her going over any unnecessary bumps. When we walked into the restaurant, the whole club table stood up and gave her a loud round of applause. She sat down next to Wyatt Leonard, alias Finky Linky, infamous kid’s TV show hero. I liked Wyatt, but thought his
“Finky Linky Show” one of the most overrated programs I’d ever seen. Unlike everyone else, I didn’t cry when it went off the air.
“Finky Linky Show” one of the most overrated programs I’d ever seen. Unlike everyone else, I didn’t cry when it went off the air.
When he was in town, Finky was the unofficial president of the club because he’d originally thought it up. After everyone had disgustingly stuffed their faces full of Rachel’s Chinese/Hebrew cuisine, he stood up and tapped his glass for silence.
“Fellow Spiders, there are three things tonight that give me immense pleasure—seeing you all again and knowing you’ve survived the earthquake, eating Rachel’s food, and hearing that Harry Radcliffe is leaving town for an indefinite period. Just joking, Harry.
“I’m also glad to see that Claire Stansfield is here and has asked to be the first up. Ready, Claire?”
“When I was a girl, I knew only two things for sure: Love was pinkish yellow, and Romaric Jupien was the handsomest boy in the world. I grew up in Winnipeg. Winters there are so cold that the water on the lake freezes in perfect waves. Policemen wear buffalo-skin coats, and the place looks like a town of bandits because so many people go around wearing full face masks to keep the cold off.
“We lived next door to a French family named Jupien who had three children: twin girls, Ninon and Prisca, and a boy, Romaric. He hated his name because he wanted to be as American as possible, so he expected you to call him Mark.
“When this happened, I was eight and he was thirteen. I was at that age where you’re discovering love is not just your father’s lap or Mom’s pulling your jacket tighter before you go out. This love was eight years of innocence and energy and desire that’s finally decided to step out of the family and go looking for new ground. It just happened a marvelous older boy lived next door who didn’t have the slightest idea I existed, which made it all the more torturous and necessary.
“I watched him from behind curtains, standing in our driveway holding the hose for my father while he washed the car, and like a
secret agent of the heart, sitting in Mark’s own living room while he watched television and I pretended to play with his sisters. I was so much in love that every time he was out of my sight I forgot what he looked like.
secret agent of the heart, sitting in Mark’s own living room while he watched television and I pretended to play with his sisters. I was so much in love that every time he was out of my sight I forgot what he looked like.
“I was crazy for the Greek myths then and had read them many times. My secret name for Mark was Achilles because he was my Achilles’ heel. I was a tomboy, but when it came to him, there was no fist in my glove: I would’ve gladly put on a dress and given a tea party if it would have pleased him. A thing I remember so well was writing ‘Achilles’ heel’ on my school notebook twenty times in different scripts and colors. I came in from recess one day and found someone had added the letter
W
in front of every one of them so they all read ‘Achilles’ Wheel.’ I honestly think I would’ve killed the person if I knew who’d done it. It was as if they’d put that
W
on Mark’s face.
W
in front of every one of them so they all read ‘Achilles’ Wheel.’ I honestly think I would’ve killed the person if I knew who’d done it. It was as if they’d put that
W
on Mark’s face.
“The strangest thing about my obsession was it seemed every time I looked at him, I saw this pinkish yellow aura emanating from his whole body. He was very masculine and I’m sure if I’d told him he would’ve had my head, but I couldn’t help it—if there was Mark, there was the aura.
“My mother loved doing things with the family. She also liked the Jupiens, both because they were nice people and because they were French, which gave them an exotic twist. So we often had cookouts together or went swimming in the summer … . All of which was fine by me as long as Mark came.
“It’s so cold in Winnipeg in the dead of winter that it often doesn’t snow much, but one January we had a real Manitoba blizzard that stopped the whole town in its tracks. There was nothing anyone could do but wait for it to end or have snowball fights. My mother decided we should go tobogganing and sent me over to the Jupiens to ask if they wanted to go. I walked across the front yards as slowly as
I could, for what if I fell down and he happened to be looking out the window at that very moment? And if he wasn’t at the window, what if he opened the door and saw me covered with snow? You have to walk carefully in the beginning of love. The running across fields into your lover’s arms can only come later when you’re sure they won’t laugh if you trip.
I could, for what if I fell down and he happened to be looking out the window at that very moment? And if he wasn’t at the window, what if he opened the door and saw me covered with snow? You have to walk carefully in the beginning of love. The running across fields into your lover’s arms can only come later when you’re sure they won’t laugh if you trip.
“I didn’t fall on the way over, which was just as well because Mark opened the door. And he was smiling! I thought, ‘Oh God, Oh God, it’s for me. He’s smiling because it’s me.’ But as I was about to say something, I saw he had a comic book in his hand and obviously wanted to get back to it.
“‘Hi, Claire. Waddya want?’
“His mother called from somewhere asking who it was and he said three words that almost cut me in half: ‘It’s only Claire, Ma.’
“Luckily Mrs. Jupien came bustling to the door and pulled me into the house. She said something in French to Mark that sounded like a scolding, which only made things worse. What saved my visit from total catastrophe was that he stayed there and didn’t leave. He’d probably been cooped up inside the house all day and was glad in his own way to see someone new, even if it was ‘only Claire.’
“In a blurt I said my mother wanted to know if they’d like to go tobogganing with us. The two girls came downstairs and instantly took to the idea. So did Mrs. Jupien, but Mark rolled his eyes as if tobogganing was the dumbest idea he’d heard. I wanted to protest and say it wasn’t
my
idea, but by then his mother was ordering them all around, saying bundle up and where’s the sled and Mark, go tell your father we’re going. With a big fake yawn he turned and went off to find Mr. Jupien while I stood there feeling love and failure in equal amounts.
my
idea, but by then his mother was ordering them all around, saying bundle up and where’s the sled and Mark, go tell your father we’re going. With a big fake yawn he turned and went off to find Mr. Jupien while I stood there feeling love and failure in equal amounts.
“Outside the snow was still coming down. Part of me wanted to crawl down into it and hibernate until I was older and beautiful and
he would have to love me. The other part was excited—like it or not, he was going with us and I would get to be around him for the next few hours, no matter what happened.
he would have to love me. The other part was excited—like it or not, he was going with us and I would get to be around him for the next few hours, no matter what happened.
“Running back to our house, I kept wondering what I could do to impress him once we got there. Should I show off and try something dangerous? Be adoring and impressed when he did anything? I wanted to be older. I knew when you were older you’d understand how to act around people you loved. The boys I knew who loved me at school did things like punch me in the arm or call me names because they didn’t know anything else to do. But I was smart enough to know there was more to it than that. What
was
it though? How did you show a person you loved them without looking stupid? How did you do it so well that they started to love you back?
was
it though? How did you show a person you loved them without looking stupid? How did you do it so well that they started to love you back?
“Half an hour later our two families met out on the street and started walking to the sledding hill. It was only midafternoon but already getting dark and the snow somehow made things darker. It was nice but too much. You walked with your head down and your face tight.
“I walked with Prisca and Ninon, who bubbled on about things and people we knew. Mark walked with ‘the men’ in front and our mothers a few steps behind them. Everyone was loud and there was a lot of laughter. My father told Mr. Jupien a story about a storm he’d once experienced. I’d heard the story many times because it was a favorite of mine, but listening now, it sounded so long and boring and I was embarrassed.
“Normally the walk to the hill took about ten minutes, but the snow and their leisurely pace kept us at it for a half hour. When we got there, I couldn’t stand it anymore and strode ahead for the hill with our toboggan. Why not? Everything else had gone wrong. Even more than Mark, all I wanted then was some speed around me and wind splitting across my face and that great safe fear in the heart
that’s there when you’re doing something like sledding or jumping off the high board into a swimming pool.
that’s there when you’re doing something like sledding or jumping off the high board into a swimming pool.
“The new snow was light and slippery under my feet and I slipped twice as I began to climb. But by then I almost didn’t care because he never liked me and never
would
like me and to him I was ‘only Claire’ anyway, so what difference did it make if I looked dumb climbing a hill? I just wanted to get away from them and him and be by myself in the wind and snow and falling dark. Maybe if I was lucky something magical would happen—I’d sled off into that dark and never be seen again. Everyone would be broken-hearted and they’d have to bury an empty coffin. Mark would stand by my grave and weep … .
would
like me and to him I was ‘only Claire’ anyway, so what difference did it make if I looked dumb climbing a hill? I just wanted to get away from them and him and be by myself in the wind and snow and falling dark. Maybe if I was lucky something magical would happen—I’d sled off into that dark and never be seen again. Everyone would be broken-hearted and they’d have to bury an empty coffin. Mark would stand by my grave and weep … .
“‘Claire, wait! Wait up!’
“I heard his voice, but couldn’t believe he was calling me. So in the first mature move of my life, I kept walking and didn’t turn around.
“‘Claire! Willya wait up!’
“I heard him coming and stopped where I was, out of breath and my heart pounding like a gong.
“‘Jeez, didn’t you hear me calling? Come on, let’s go down together.’
“How the hell I ever managed to climb the rest of the way to the top of that hill I don’t know. I got up there a little after Mark but that was because I was still pulling the toboggan. He might’ve wanted to go down with me, but he hadn’t offered to pull.
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