by Ben Okri
‘Tell the fool to shut up,’ snapped Old Man.
‘Shut up, Pinprop!’ Old Woman barked.
‘But if I shut up, sir, who would hear me?’
‘No-one wants to hear you, Pinprop,’ Old Man said.
‘Then I shall speak to myself.’
‘Then we shall listen,’ replied Old Man.
‘That’s fine by me,’ came the obstinate Pinprop.
‘I am bored. I am tired. I shall sing a song. I am afraid of being bored so I shall make love instead. I shall make love to these chains and I shall do it so much that the chains will float and we will all have to swim.’
‘Empty threats, Pinprop.’
‘Tell him to shut up. I don’t want to be accidentally impregnated by a eunuch.’
‘Surely, you’re too old for that.’
‘I shall outdo the rainstorms, sir,’ Pinprop shouted. ‘Who knows what clouds are anyway?’
‘Shut up, Pinprop.’
‘I was merely expressing a fantasy.’
‘Your fantasy makes us sick,’ said Old Woman.
‘I was merely trying to nauseate you into freeing me from these rusted chains,’ cried Pinprop, beating the chains on the ground.
‘You’d better release him.’
‘And what will be his price for freedom?’ Old Man asked, wearily.
‘Obedience,’ said Old Woman.
Seven
Old Man got up reluctantly. He trundled into the woods, and soon returned with Pinprop trailing behind him, limply. Old Man sat in his chair. Pinprop took up his customary position in front of the table. The sky had darkened a little over the clearing.
‘Now we shall have some peace,’ Old Woman said.
‘I was trying to forget something,’ muttered Old Man, ‘but instead I remembered.’
‘I was trying to remember something,’ mumbled Old Woman, ‘but now I’ve forgotten.’
Pinprop, almost in a whisper, said:
‘A bloated NO to all this, and a monstrous NO to all that iron.’
The sky improved. Then Old Man, with dignity, said:
‘Now for some boredom.’
Old Woman, also with dignity:
‘Now for some lies.’
‘And now,’ said Pinprop, ‘that we have arrived at a temporary destination…’
‘A proper yes,’ said Old Man.
‘A resonant yes,’ said Old Woman.
‘… I may as well remember for myself…’ Pinprop continued.
‘The vote is taken,’ Old Man said.
‘And silence wins,’ Old Woman said.
‘… that there are many sad people…’ Pinprop went on.
‘A deafening victory for silence,’ said Old Woman.
‘A violent victory for silence,’ said Old Man.
‘… who would never arrive…’ said Pinprop.
‘Because silence stands for lies,’ Old Woman said.
‘And lies stand for victory,’ Old Man said.
‘… because there is nowhere to arrive at…’ continued Pinprop.
‘And victory stands for banality’
‘And banality represents happiness.’
‘… and travelling is the only place there is…’ said Pinprop.
‘Look well, therefore, at the trap,’ intoned Old Man.
‘And regard carefully the mouse,’ cried Old Woman.
‘… and arriving is the best cliché to feed to skeletons,’ concluded Pinprop.
‘A resounding yes to arrivals,’ bellowed the old man.
A sonorous yes to escapes,’ crowed the old woman.
There was a brief silence. Old Man and Old Woman looked sternly at Pinprop. Old Woman kicked him beneath the table. Pinprop giggled. Then he stopped. Then, in a demonic whisper, he said:
A still, small defiant NO to all that.’
Then they were perfectly immobile, as at the completion of an ancient ritual.
Book Two
One
It is not possible to say whether time had passed. Old Man and Old Woman were asleep on the table. Pinprop sat on the ground in front of them, nodding and trying to stay awake. Then there came the sound of footsteps running in their direction; and in the distance the wailing of a siren.
Now and then Old Woman clapped her hands together, and went back to sleep. Old Man snored.
The footsteps got closer. There was the noise of exhausted breathing in the woods nearby. Then finally a Man staggered into the clearing. He stopped, saw Pinprop, and sighed.
‘Thank goodness,’ he said.
Then he collapsed on the ground.
Two
Old Man raised his head, saw the Man, and went back to sleep. Old Woman lifted her head, saw the Man, clapped her hands together, inspected her palms, and flicked something away with her finger. Then she went back to sleep. Pinprop raised his head, regarded the Man, and resumed nodding in and out of sleep.
After a while the Man got up, dusted himself, and looked about him. He looked from left to right, and back again. He saw Pinprop sitting cross-legged, and went over, and prodded him.
‘Hello, excuse me, please,’ he said.
Pinprop looked up at him, and fell back to nodding.
‘Excuse me, please.’
Pinprop regarded him again, and pushed him away.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ the Man said. ‘All I want is to ask a question.’
Pinprop made an angry face at him.
‘Oh, I see,’ the Man said. ‘You’re dumb. That’s alright then.’
Pinprop resumed nodding. The Man went on talking.
‘It’s just that I’ve been running for a long time. Did you hear all that noise?’
Pinprop nodded.
‘They’ve been chasing me,’ the Man continued. ‘I’ve never been so tired in all my life. I’ve never been more terrified either. Do you know that feeling, when it’s as if you would be running for the rest of your life and you would be pursued by a kind of demonic force? I mean, it all kind of happened naturally. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?’
Pinprop nodded.
‘It’s nice to know someone understands.’
Pinprop snored. The Man went on.
‘I mean, all this time I’ve been running I never saw a single soul. Only trees and sand and water. Especially water. I could never wash myself in it, nor could I drink of it. I was too busy fleeing, you see. Do you understand what I mean?’
Pinprop remained perfectly still.
‘You don’t. That’s alright,’ the Man said. ‘I always had problems getting people to understand me. My headmaster used to say I was a natural victim and so no matter how well I expressed myself I would always be misunderstood. So you see, I don’t even know how long I’ve been running. It’s strange, you know, because even when it was a matter of freedom, life and death, I kept having guilt feelings about stupid things like how I smelt and whether my armpits or my crotch stank. Do you think I smell? I mean can you smell me?’
Pinprop nodded vigorously.
‘So I was right, then.’
Pinprop didn’t move.
‘It was like that at the asylum. Water, trees, sand. On and on. I could never touch them. They were just there. It got too much, you see. I saw them so intensely that they took on an extraordinary quality of beauty. I never saw human beings or animals. Just those things. Then one day I knew I had to escape.’
Three
The Man began pacing the clearing.
‘I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. It wasn’t a dramatic sort of asylum, with people going about like zombies and foaming at the mouth and all that. It was a place for mild cases. But it was all a lie. I saw one of the inmates bash in another person’s head. And do you know why?’
Old Woman clapped her hands together. Old Man sneezed. Pinprop pulled his nose, slapped his thigh, and resumed nodding. The Man went on.
‘Well, it was because the inmate did not like the way the other fellow sniffed. It was like this,
you see. They sort of shared a room. The man who had his head bashed in sniffed far too much for his own good. The other fellow complained for ages that he wanted another room. He never got another room. So one day they had an argument and the fellow who sniffed a lot sniffed and sniffed and sniffed. He went on for hours. At night, at noon, at breakfast, he did it wherever the other fellow was. We found him one morning. His head was like an orange married by a gorilla. It was all hushed up, you see. The chap had a decent funeral.’
Silence.
‘Don’t you find that funny?’
Pinprop slapped his thigh.
‘Oh well, I do,’ said the Man. ‘I find almost everything I remember sort of funny. And when I find things funny I don’t laugh. I cry. If you tell me a joke and it’s a good one I could cry for hours. That’s why I don’t listen to jokes.’
Four
The Man paused. He stared at Pinprop contemplatively, and then carried on.
‘You know, I saw a good joke while I was running. It sort of wore thin after a while, though. The trees had signs on them, the same sign. Do you know what it read?’
Pinprop sneezed.
‘It read: “Room to Let”. And all the signs were different. Some were small, some were big, some were colourful and so on. The best one I saw was carved on the tree trunk and then painted blue and yellow.
It made the room feel like a really special room.’
He paused, and then went on.
‘I used to have a good room once. Then it went sour. You know, routines and routines. I used to live with a brother. He was filthy and I was clean. I would spend hours arranging and rearranging the place. We had lots of horrible arguments. You know, about every silly thing. We fought a lot and he always beat me up. Like a child. Do you want to know a secret?’
Pinprop remained still.
‘Well, I’ll tell you anyway. Since you are dumb you can’t tell anybody, can you? Well, the secret is that I killed him.’
Pinprop nodded.
‘Doesn’t that surprise you?’ the Man asked, a little baffled. ‘Isn’t it a little hair-raising?’
Pinprop was still.
‘That’s alright then. You’ve probably murdered someone yourself. Anyway, I killed him. It wasn’t particularly difficult. I simply smashed his head with a hammer.’
The Man laughed. It was long and perfectly normal laughter. He fell silent. Then:
‘After that it was the asylum. And then running. And then you.’
Five
There was a long silence, during which the Man studied Pinprop. Then he looked around him, at the clearing, the woods, the sky. He walked round the immobile Pinprop.
‘How strange!’ he said. ‘I’ve been talking to myself all this time. I’m not even dreaming. What a bad impression you must have of me. Do you have a bad impression of me?’
Pinprop remained immobile.
‘Do you?’
Pinprop didn’t move.
The Man proceeded to shake Pinprop, who did not wake. Then he kicked Pinprop.
‘Are you dead or alive?’
Pinprop groaned sleepily, and nodded.
‘This is driving me mad,’ the Man cried.
He kicked Pinprop a few more times. Pinprop sneezed, but remained still.
‘Not again, oh no, not again,’ the Man shouted.
Striding about the clearing, stamping his feet, and pulling his hair, he worked himself into a frenzy. Then he suddenly stopped. A weird calm came over him.
‘Oh, yes. Yes, indeed. It won’t be my fault, yes,’ he said.
Then he laughed, looked excitedly about the clearing, ran off into the woods, and soon came back with a thick tree-branch in his hand.
Six
As the Man got to the middle of the clearing Pinprop yawned, stretched, looked up at him, and said:
‘Oh, hello. You’ve recovered, have you?’
The Man stuttered, at a loss.
‘Good,’ said Pinprop. ‘Definitely good.’
‘Ah, yes,’ replied the Man, perplexed.
‘You do look a bit agitated,’ said Pinprop, pointedly. ‘Are you alright?’
‘Yes, indeed,’ the Man answered, looking awkwardly at the thick piece of wood in his hands, which he dropped. ‘Em, I was just going to make a fire. It is a bit cold.’
‘Good,’ said Pinprop. ‘Definitely so.’
There was a brief silence.
‘You mean you were really asleep all that time?’ the Man asked.
‘As asleep as sleep is possible,’ Pinprop replied, nonchalantly. ‘That is if you take into consideration the amount of sleep that is not possible. Why?’
‘Well, you see, I was under the impression that you were dumb.’
‘Dumb?’ said Pinprop, laughing. ‘I’ve been called many things but not dumb.’
‘Well, I was talking to you.’
‘Oh. What about?’
Flustered, the Man said:
‘About life, my job, my wife and all that.’
‘You mean boredom, of course.’
‘Yes, boredom.’
‘A profound subject boredom is.’
‘Very much so.’
Seven
There was another long silence. Old Woman clapped her hands together. Old Man woke up. He sat bolt upright, staring straight ahead of him, as if deep in thought, or in a daze. Then after a while he woke up Old Woman.
Pinprop, addressing the Man, said: ‘Was anybody else here?’
‘No.’
‘I must have dreamt that someone was kicking me.’
Laughing nervously, the Man said:
‘I only brushed past you a number of times.’
‘That explains it,’ said Pinprop, dryly.
‘Things are magnified in dreams, you know.’
‘Yes, definitely.’
‘Do you know where I can find that room advertised on the trees?’ the Man asked, in a new voice.
‘Room? What room?’
‘It’s just a room,’ said the Man, defensively. ‘Didn’t you see the signs on the trees?’
‘No.’
‘That’s alright then. Forget the subject. It’s not important anyway.’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘No. Why should it be?’
‘You were right. Let’s forget the subject.’
‘A fine idea.’
They were silent for a while.
‘What’s your name?’ the Man asked suddenly.
‘My name?’
‘Yes.’
‘Mada.’
‘A nice short name.’
And what’s yours?’
‘It’s not important.’
‘Yes. Definitely.’
And what are you doing here?’
‘Me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, I’m, em, tired,’ said Pinprop, blithely. ‘I’m impotent.’
‘I see. How interesting.’
And you?’
‘No. I’m not impotent,’ said the Man.
‘How do you know?’
‘What?’
‘I said, good. But what are you doing here?’
‘It’s not really important, if you see what I mean.’
‘Certainly.’
They were silent again. The Man stared into the forest, blankly.
Eight
‘I see that the tribe has caught up with us,’ said Old Man.
‘Skeletons, I think,’ said Old Woman.
‘A harmless liar,’ said Pinprop.
‘Are you talking to me?’ asked the Man.
‘No.’
‘Harmless?’ wondered Old Man.
‘Harmful,’ said Old Woman.
‘A hyena, I suspect,’ said Pinprop.
‘A hyena? Where?’ asked the Man.
‘In the distance,’ replied Pinprop. ‘Beside me.’
‘Beside you?’ said the Man.
‘Shut up,’ said Pinprop.
‘What about your so-called tributes, Pinprop?’
piped Old Woman.
‘And temporary arrivals?’ added Old Man.
‘Hollow. A sham,’ replied Pinprop.
‘Are you referring to me by any chance?’ the Man asked, with a tinge of menace.
‘I said shut up.’
‘Are we going or are we to listen to this fool?’ demanded Old Woman.
‘You can be verbose if you like, Pinprop.’
‘If you tell me to shut up again…’ began the Man.
‘Isolate him!’ cried Old Woman.
‘… I will most certainly…’ continued the Man.
‘Chain him!’ said Old Man.
‘… crack your head,’ bellowed the Man.
‘A statement of iron,’ said Old Woman.
‘Definitely of rust,’ chimed Old Man.
‘Did you hear me?’ cried the Man.
‘Gut-rot,’ said Pinprop.
‘What?’
‘The vote is taken,’ said Old Woman.
‘And violence wins,’ said Old Man.
‘A definite victory to isolation,’ proclaimed Pinprop.
‘Are you mad?’ asked the Man, baffled.
Old Man and Old Woman rose from their seats.
‘Slave!’ said Old Man.
‘Sir!’
‘The table and chairs,’ said Old Woman.
‘I said are you mad?’
‘A throaty yes to new arrivals,’ declared Old Man, as he left the clearing.
A warm yes to new journeys,’ Old Woman intoned, following him.
A solid yes to all that,’ said Pinprop, carrying the table and chairs.
Soon all three of them had vanished into the forest.
*
The Man stood alone in the clearing.
‘Insane. Insane. This is madness,’ he said.
There was complete silence.
‘I’ve got to find that room,’ he said, after a while.
He sat down on the ground.
‘Yes.’
Then, after a moment, there came the wail of the siren in the distance, coming closer.
‘Heavens! Not again!’ he cried.
Then, agitated, he jumped up. He ran off into the forest in the direction from which he had originally come. Then he ran back, across the clearing, in the opposite direction.
