“Say, Clémence… I had a bad headache this afternoon… That’s a funny thing… It wasn’t hot, was it?”
That still had him puzzled… He thought of nothing but his ailments… He couldn’t take any interest in whether I stayed or went, or where to!… He had trouble enough… especially since his bad setback at Connivance Fire Insurance… He couldn’t stop mulling it over… He was still going through hell at Coccinelle… they were always stepping on his feet!… It was as bad as ever!… He was so miserable that some weeks he didn’t shave at all… He was too shaken… He refused to change his shirt…
They hadn’t eaten yet when I got there… She told me about the hard times, the trouble they were having in the store… She set the table. She limped kind of differently, maybe a little less… Even so she had a good deal of pain but mostly in the left leg now. She kept sniffling and making sounds with her mouth… the minute she sat down to ease her pain… He’d just come back from his errands, from making a few deliveries… He was very weak. He was sweating more and more… He sat down with us… He didn’t talk, he didn’t burp… all he did was eat very slowly… There were leeks… From time to time, by fits and starts, he’d come to life a little… Actually it happened only twice while I was there… He’d start muttering hoarse, low curses into his plate… “Christ almighty! Shit, piss and corruption!…” He’d grumble some more… He’d get up… He left the table, he went off teetering… as far as the little partition that separated us from the kitchen… It was as thin as an onion peel!… He’d haul off and hit it two or three times… That was the best he could do… He’d retreat backwards… He’d flop on his stool, looking down at the tiles… way down below… his arms dangling… My mother gently put his cap straight… She motioned me to look away… She was used to it now. Actually it couldn’t have bothered him any more… He didn’t really catch on… He was too wrapped up in his troubles at the office… There was no room in his dome for anything else… For the last two months he hadn’t been sleeping more than an hour a night… His head was all tied up with worry like a bundle… he wasn’t interested in anything else… He didn’t even care what went on in their business… He didn’t want to hear about it… That suited my mother fine… I really didn’t know what to do… I felt like a sore finger, I was afraid to move! Even so I tried to tell them a little about myself… my little adventures… Not the whole truth!… Just a few things to entertain them, a little innocent horseplay to break the embarrassment!… Christ, what a face they made!… Just because I was joking!… The effect was exactly the opposite!… Hell, that griped me!… I was beginning to get sore too!… I had my troubles too, damn it all! I was in a jam too, just as bad as they were!… I hadn’t come to beg! Either for dough or for food!… I wasn’t asking them for anything!… Only I didn’t want to join in their lousy bellyaching!… I didn’t feel like crying into the soup or grazing on their troubles… I hadn’t come to be comforted!… Or to complain either… I’d simply come to say goodbye… Shit! That’s all!… They might have been pleased…
One time just as a joke I said: “I’ll send you some morning-glory seeds from the country!… They’ll grow fine up in the attic!… They’ll climb over the glass roof!…”
I was saying anything that came into my head…
“Ah, it’s easy to see that you’re not the one that toils and struggles around here! That you don’t have to work your fingers to the bone trying to meet our obligations! Ah, it’s a fine thing to be carefree…”
Balls! All the hardship and misery, all the sickening trials were for them. Mine didn’t exist by comparison!… If I got into a jam it was all my fault… according to them, the stinkers… oh, the shame of it! They had their nerve with them! Balls and counterballs! Whereas they were innocent victims!… Martyrs for ever! There was no comparison!… It was all very well to be young, but I’d better watch my step!… Or I’d go wrong for good!… My business was to listen! And to profit by their example!… For ever and ever! Hell’s bells and never a moment’s doubt!… Just watching me there at table in front of my beans (there was Swiss cheese afterwards) the whole past came back to Mama… She had a hard time holding back the tears, her voice cracked… and anyway she preferred not to say anything!… That was a real sacrifice… I’d have gladly asked forgiveness for all my faults, my capricious behaviour, my unspeakable debauchery, my disastrous crimes!… If that could have cheered her up!… If that was the only thing that made her start moaning again!… If that was all that was breaking her heart!… I’d have begged her forgiveness and shoved off right away!… I’d have ended up by admitting that I was incredibly lucky, that I was too spoilt for words, that I spent my time having fun!… Sure! I’d have said anything at all to get it over with… I was looking towards the door… But she motioned me to stay… He went up to his room… He wasn’t feeling at all well… He clutched the banister… It took him at least five minutes to climb the three flights… And then, once we were alone, her miseries started up worse than ever… She gave me all the details… What she was doing now to make ends meet!… Her new racket… She went out every morning for a lace house… in three months she’d made almost two hundred francs in commissions… In the afternoon she doctored herself, she stayed in the shop with her leg on a chair… She wouldn’t see Capron any more… He went on telling her to keep still!… Why, she had to keep moving!… It was all she had to live for… She preferred to treat herself by the Raspail method… She’d bought his book… She knew all the herb teas… all the mixtures and infusions… And she had oil of mignonette to massage her leg with at night… She got boils even so, but the pain was bearable and the swelling wasn’t too bad. They burst almost immediately. They didn’t keep her from walking, that was the main thing!… She showed me her leg… The flesh was all creased, as if it had been wound around a stick, from the knee down… and yellow… with big scabs and places that were running… “It’s nothing once they begin to drain!… It’s a relief, it feels better… but before that it’s terrible, while they’re still all purple!… While they’re closed!… Luckily I have my poultice!… Without it I don’t know what I’d do!… You can’t imagine what a help it is!… Without it I’d be an invalid!” And then she told me some more about Auguste… how he was making a wreck of himself… he’d lost control of his nerves… and his terrors at night… The worst was his fear of being fired… it woke him up in a panic… He’d jump out of bed… “Help! Help!” he’d scream… the last time so loud that all the people in the Passage had started up… For a moment they’d thought it was a fight!… That I’d come back to strangle him! They’d all come running! When Papa had his fits, he didn’t know what was going on… They’d had a time getting him back into bed… They’d had to put cold towels on his head for several hours… Ever since he began having those fits… they were getting more and more exhausting… life had been a torment!… He never came out of his nightmare… He didn’t know what he was saying… He didn’t recognize people any more… He couldn’t tell the neighbours apart… He was terribly afraid of cars… Often in the morning when he hadn’t slept at night, she’d take him to the door of the insurance company… at 34 Rue de Trévise… But her troubles weren’t over… She’d have to go in and ask the concierge if there was anything new… if he hadn’t heard anything… about my father… if he hadn’t been dismissed… He couldn’t distinguish between real and imaginary any more… If not for her it was perfectly certain… he’d never have gone back!… But then he’d have gone crazy… loony with despair… beyond the shadow of a doubt… It took a terrible balancing act to keep him from going under completely… And she did all the acrobatics… screwing his knob back on again… She couldn’t let the grass grow under her feet… And what with the meals in addition… they didn’t cook themselves!… And then she had to go running to the other end of Paris… with her lace… finding customers, hurry-hurry… With all that she still managed to open our store… for a few hours in the afternoon… She didn’t
mind if things were slow in the shop, as long as it didn’t go under completely!… And at night the whole thing to start over again! So his fears wouldn’t get any worse, so his terror wouldn’t increase… she put a little lamp on a table in the middle of the room, turned down low. And besides, so’s he could go to sleep a little faster, she plugged his ears with little wads of cotton dipped in vaseline… He started up at the slightest sound… if anybody walked through the Passage… And it started up again early in the morning with the milkman… It echoed terribly on account of the glass roof… But with the wads of cotton it was a little better… He said so himself…
Naturally, it’s not hard to see, my mother was more awfully worn-out than ever from having to keep holding my father up all the time, day and night… She was always at her post… bolstering his morale… warding off his obsessions! Well, actually she didn’t feel too sorry for herself! If I hadn’t been such an arse… if I’d shown some sign of repentance… of acknowledging all my vices… my stinking ingratitude… it would have been balm for her… That was plain!… She’d have been comforted… She’d have said to herself: “Ah, my boy, you’ve still a chance or two left… All hope isn’t lost!… His heart isn’t all stone! He’s not so debased, so absolutely incurable… Maybe he’ll make it in the end…” It would have been a light in her distress… a delicious consolation… But I wasn’t in the mood… Even if I’d done my damnedest, I’d never have got it out… I couldn’t have made it… Of course I felt sorry… Of course I saw how unhappy she was! That was God’s truth! If I felt bad, it wasn’t to go blabbing it out! And especially not to her!… And besides… after all… when I was a kid in their house and didn’t know from nothing… who always got it in the neck?… It wasn’t just her!… It was me too!… Me the whole time… I got the lickings!… Childhood! Shit!… Yes, sure, she was always devoted, she sacrificed herself… OK, OK!… It made me sick to be thinking of all that so hard… But hell! It was her fault too! I never thought about it all by myself!… That was the worst part of it, worse than all the rest of the crummy business… It was no use my trying to say something!… She turned on me with a look of distress, as though I’d beaten her! It was best I clear out!… We’d start fighting again… But I let her pour her heart out… I didn’t open my mouth… Sure, help yourself… it’s free of charge!… She took a good slice… She gave me plenty of advice!… All those excellent precepts, I heard them again!… Everything that was indispensable to uplift my morality!… To make me stop giving in to my low instincts!… To make me learn from good examples and imitate them!… She saw I was holding myself in, that I didn’t want to answer… So she changed her tune… She was afraid of making me mad, she tried cajolery… She went to the sideboard and brought out a bottle of syrup… It was for me, to take to the country… as long as I was going… And then a bottle of tonic to build me up… She couldn’t help harping on my terrible habit of eating too fast!… I’d ruin my stomach… And finally she asked me if I didn’t need money… for the trip or something else… “No, no,” I said… “We’ve got all we need…” I even showed her the capital… I had it all in hundred-franc bills… See?… In conclusion I promised to write, to let them know… how our farming panned out… She didn’t understand about such things… That was an unknown world… She put her trust in my boss… I was right next to the stairs, I got up, I tied up my bundle…
“Maybe after all it’s better not to wake your father up now… What do you think?… Maybe he’s asleep… Don’t you think so?… You saw how the slightest excitement upsets him… I’m afraid it’ll throw him off again to see you leave!… Doesn’t it seem wiser?… Suppose he had another attack like three weeks ago!… I’d never get him to sleep again!… I’d do anything to prevent that from happening!…” I was of the same opinion… It struck me as perfectly reasonable… to clear out quietly… while the wind was right… We whispered goodbye… She gave me a little advice about my underwear… I didn’t listen to the end… I slipped into the Passage and then galloped out to the street… I hightailed it… I was late, very late in fact!… It was exactly midnight by the gilded dial of the Crédit Lyonnais… Courtial and his old cutie had been waiting for me for two solid hours outside the church of Saint-Vincent-de-Paul… with their pushcart!… I climbed the whole length of the Rue d’Hauteville at full speed!… I could see them in the distance under a gas lamp… It was an honest-to-God moving… He’d brought the whole works! He’d really sweated for once in his life!… He must have cleaned out the homestead regardless and notwithstanding!… He’d had to murder the old punk (not for real!)… The cart was so loaded full of junk it was sagging!… The dynamo and the motor were under the mattresses and the clothes!… The double curtains, the whole kitchen!… He’d saved as much as possible!… You had to hand it to him! He was wearing a new frock coat I’d never seen… I wondered where he’d found it… It was pearl grey… I commented on it… it was from his younger days… He’d pinned up the tails. The old lady wasn’t wearing her hydrangea-and-cherry hat… It was perched on top of the cart… for safekeeping… Instead she’d put on a real pretty Andalusian shawl, all embroidered in bright colours… It looked good under the street lamp… She told me it was really the best thing for long trips… it protected the hair.
Well, there we were finally… After some discussion about an obsolete timetable we started off very slowly… Frankly, I was happy!… The Rue Lafayette is steep… especially between the church and the corner pharmacy!… We couldn’t lie down on the job… Des Pereires had harnessed himself to the cart… The old bag and I pushed from behind… And “Come on, kid!…” and “I know you’ve got it in you!…” And “Keep her rolling!…” And “Never say die…” The only trouble was that we’d lost too much time!… We missed our train!… It was my fault!… We could forget about the twelve-forty!… Now it was the two-twelve… the first of the day… So now we were ahead of time, pretty near fifty minutes!… We had plenty of time to take our dolly apart… it was the folding reversible type… and load all our stuff – again! – into the freight car at the tail of the train. After that we still had time enough to blow ourselves to some mud: two cups with milk, a mazagran and a “breakfast coffee”, all in a row! At the spiffy Terminus!… We were nuts about coffee all three of us… really gone!… And I had the treasury.
* * *
We got out in Persant-la-Rivière… It was a sweet little village between two hills and some woods… A chateau with turrets provided the finishing touch… The dam below the houses made a majestic roar… All in all, it was very pretty… We could have picked worse, even for a holiday!… I said as much to the old battleaxe… But she was out of sorts… We had a hell of a time with our stuff, getting our motor out of the freight car… We had to ask for help…
The stationmaster looked our paraphernalia over… He thought we were itinerants… come for the fair… to put on movie evenings… He judged by our rig… For the fair we’d have to come back another time!… It was over two weeks ago!… Des Pereires didn’t like leaving him with the wrong idea… He put the little idiot straight right away!… told him all about our projects… He wanted to speak to the notary! Immediately!… This was no laughing matter, it was an agricultural revolution!… A crowd of yokels started poking into our stuff… They clustered around the tarp… They made a lot of remarks about our apparatus. On the road the three of us by ourselves couldn’t make it!… The cart was too damn heavy!… We’d noticed that on the Rue Lafayette!… And our agricultural hole was too far away… We needed a horse at least!… Right away those hicks put up a remarkable show of inertia!… Finally we were able to start out!…
Once settled on the seat, our cutie lit up a good pipe… Our hangers-on laid bets that she was a man dressed like a woman!…
To reach our property at Blême-le-Petit it was still eleven kilometres… with plenty of hills!… They warned us at Persant… Des Pereires had already collected piles of documents, going around from one group to another
… It hadn’t taken him long to sign all the papers… he’d hurried the notary… Now he was prospecting the green hills from the top of the cart… We’d given one of the peasants a lift… With the map spread out on his knees, Courtial never stopped talking once the whole time… He commented on every rise, every roll in the ground… He searched for every last brook… in the distance with his hand over his eyes… He didn’t always find them… He gave us a regular lecture that went on at least two solid hours, bumpity-bump, on the potentialities, the lag in development, the agricultural splendours and weaknesses of a region whose “metallo-geodisic infrastructure” didn’t entirely suit him… Oh no!… He told us right off and several times over!… He’d have to make his analyses before throwing himself into this thing!… It was a beautiful day.
* * *
At Blême-le-Petit things weren’t exactly the way the notary had said. It took us two whole days to find out…
The farm was plenty run down… That much had been stated in the papers! The old man who’d had it last had died only two months before and nobody in the whole family had wanted to take over… It seemed that nobody wanted the land, or the shanty, or even the village… We looked over some of the other shacks a little farther on… We knocked at all the doors… We went into the barns… There was no sign of life… Finally near the watering trough, in some kind of a shed, we found two old customers so old they couldn’t leave the place… They were almost blind… and completely deaf… They kept pissing on each other… That seemed to be their only amusement… We tried to talk to them… They couldn’t think of anything to say… They made signs that we should go away and leave them alone… They’d lost the habit of anybody coming to see them… We frightened them.
Death on Credit Page 55
