We looked through our stuff, the little we had left, to see if there was anything wearable we could take with us… Frankly there wasn’t much! The old lady found a shawl… Naturally she still had her trousers on, she always dressed like the rest of us. She hadn’t a skirt to her name… As for food, there was still a bit of rind in the pickling jar… enough to make a meal for the mutt… We were taking him with us to the station… We fed him… Luckily I found a little corduroy jacket in the back of the closet… a gamekeeper’s rig with horn buttons!… The kids had swiped it… They hadn’t told anybody…
Along with my overcoat it would help to keep me warm… I still had my cycling pants!… The underwear department was non-existent! Not even a shirt!… When it came to shoes… mine were still holding out, I’d split them open some because they were too narrow… and patched them up with sandals underneath… that made them flexible but cold!… The old lady had slippers stuffed into rubbers… she’d have trouble lasting out the trip. They kept all the water in!… She bundled them up in old newspapers and string… to make them like real boots, so her feet wouldn’t rattle around inside… Persant was pretty far!… And Beauvais was still farther… There was no hope of getting a ride!… We ran a little more coffee through the grounds… Then we got together with the cop… He was going to escort us… He was holding by the bridle his horse that still hadn’t been shod!… The priest wanted to come too!… I’d rather have ditched him!… Locked him in behind us… But he made a terrible racket the minute he thought he was alone… So that was no solution!… Suppose we left him locked up in the house… and he wrecked the joint… Suppose that nutcase escaped and climbed up on the roof… And suppose he fell off and broke two or three limbs… Well, who’d be on the spot?… Who’d they accuse?… Us again naturally… Who’d get thrown in the clink?… We would, beyond any shadow of a doubt!… So I went and opened the door for him… He threw himself into my arms!… He loved me madly… But we couldn’t find the mutt… We wasted at least an hour looking for him… in the shed, in the barn… That fleabite wasn’t anywhere… Finally he showed… We were ready to go…
All those hayseeds waiting outside didn’t say a thing when we left… They didn’t say boo!… Not a word!… We passed right under their noses… The ditches were full of them! Hicks… and more hicks… So we shot off down the road… Shot isn’t exactly the word… we walked pretty gingerly… Only the lunatic ran… He gambolled about, this way and that way… The padre was curious about our itinerary… “Will we see Charlemagne?…” he asked us in a loud voice… He didn’t understand a word of our answers, but he didn’t want to leave us… Shaking him was hopeless!… Hiking set him up… He put his hunting horn to his lips… he blew a little tally-ho!… And just as we were getting into town, he raced back and joined the main body… He ran like a zebra… We came to the first houses… on the way into Persant… with the music going strong… The gendarme turned off to the left… that was the end of his assignment… We could shift for ourselves… He wasn’t keen on our company… he wasn’t going our way… We headed for the station… Right away we asked about the trains… The old lady’s train for Beauvais was leaving in ten minutes!… An hour before the one to Paris… She’d have to cross over to the other platform… It was time to say goodbye… We didn’t say anything much… We didn’t make any promises… We kissed each other…
“My goodness, Ferdinand, you’re prickly!…” She meant my beard. That was a joke!… She was being brave… That was pretty good in such a rotten situation… She didn’t know where she was going… Neither did I for that matter. We’d been sharing the bad luck for a long time now!… This time it had really laid us out!… That was pretty well to be expected… There wasn’t much more to say…
In the station the padre was kind of scared right away… He shrivelled up in a corner… Only he kept his eyes fastened on me… He just stared at me on the platform… The people around us wondered what on earth we were up to… Especially him and his horn… the old bag in her trousers… me and my coat done up with strings… They were afraid to come too close… Then the dame at the tobacco counter looked out and recognized us… “It’s the nuts from Blême!” she sang out… They kind of panicked… The Beauvais train pulled in… luckily… It made for a diversion… The old honeybun hightailed it… she climbed in on the wrong side… She stood in the doorway with Dudule’s little mutt… She waved me goodbye… I waved back!… As the train was pulling out, the distress came over her… something awful!… She made terrible faces in the window… She went “Rrrah! Rrrah!” like her throat was being cut… like some kind of animal…
“Ferdinand! Ferdinand!” she hollered across the tracks… over all the racket… The train beat it into the tunnel… We never saw each other again!… The old lady and I… I found out much later that she’d died in Salonika, they told me in the Val-de-Grâce military hospital in 1916. She’d gone out there as a nurse on a troop transport. She died of some kind of epidemic, I think it was exanthematic typhus. So the two of us, the canon and I, were on the other platform, the Paris-bound side. He still had no idea what we were there for… But at least he’d stopped playing his horn!… He was only scared I’d leave him in the lurch… As soon as the train pulled in, he jumped in too, right behind me… He stuck to me all the way to Paris… I lost him for a second on the way out of the station… The bastard caught me right away!… I lost him again on the Rue Lafayette… right across from the chemist’s… I took advantage of the crush… I jumped into a trolley in between all the traffic… I got out again a little later… on the Boulevard Magenta… I wanted to be alone for a while… to think and figure out what I was going to do…
My get-up was mighty weird… hardly presentable in a city… The people stared at me curiously… the shops and offices were just closing… It must have been a little after seven… I was quite a sensation with my abbreviated raglan… I hid in a doorway… The hardest to take was my overcoat… all bloused out in my trousers… it gave me an amazing shape!… And I couldn’t change there… I didn’t have a shirt! My trousers were hanging by a thread!… Besides, I didn’t have a hat either… I had Dudule’s little one, a patent-leather Jean Bart hat.* I’d worn it out there… Here it wouldn’t do… I chucked it behind the door… There were still too many people for me to venture out on the pavement in my fancy dress… I thought I’d wait for the crowd to thin out… I watched the street go by… What struck me first were the new-type buses without an upper deck, and the new motor taxies… There were more of them than hansom cabs… They made a terrible ruckus… I wasn’t used to heavy traffic any more… It made my head spin… I was kind of sick to my stomach too… I bought a croissant and a bar of chocolate… It was time to eat… I put them in my pocket… The air always seems muggy when you get back from the country… It’s the wind you miss… And then I began to wonder if I’d go home to the Passage… And would I go directly?… Supposing the bulls came looking for me?… Maybe the Lisp would send them…
Farther up the Boulevard Magenta I ran into the Rue Lafayette… If I took it, it wouldn’t be very complicated: Rue Richelieu, the Stock Exchange… I only had to follow the lights… Oh, I knew the way all right!… But if I turned right, I’d end up at the Châtelet, the bird vendors… the Quai aux Fleurs, the Odéon… That would take me towards my uncle’s… Finding a bed somewhere wasn’t the worst part… I could make up my mind at the last moment… But what about landing a job? That would be rough!… How was I going to get a new outfit?… I could hear the music already!… And whom would I go to see?… I came out of my hiding place… But instead of taking the Boulevard, I turned into a little side street… I stop outside a shop window… I’m looking at a hard-boiled egg… it’s all red… I say to myself: “I’ll buy it!…” I count my money in the light… I still had more than thirty-five francs and I’d paid for my railway ticket and the padre’s too… I peel the egg on the counter, I bite into it… I spit it out… I couldn’t swallow anythi
ng!… Hell, it wouldn’t go down!… Christ, I say to myself, I’m sick… I was seasick… I go out in the street… Everything was swaying… the pavement… the gas lamps… the shops… And I must have been teetering myself… A cop’s heading my way… I speed up some… I cross the street… I hide in another doorway… I didn’t feel like moving any more… I sit down on the doormat… I’m feeling a little better!… I says to myself: “What’s the matter, kid?… You can’t be as lazy as all that?… Haven’t you got the strength to move?…” And still sick to my stomach… The street put me in a panic… seeing it up ahead of me… on the sides… on the right and left… All those house fronts, so closed, so black! Shit!… So uninviting… it was even worse than Blême!… Not even a turnip to nibble on… I had the heebie-jeebies all over… especially in my stomach… and my head! I wanted to vomit… Damn! I couldn’t move at all! I was stuck to the house front… With my back to the wall like that!… No kidding… I had a good chance to remember how the poor old lady had knocked herself out keeping us all together, body and soul!… You can hardly imagine!… Hell, now I was all alone!… Honorine was gone!… Shit!… She was a good old battleaxe!… She had guts… she’d really struggled for us!… We were all fucked now!… I was sure I’d never see her again… Positive!… It hit me all of a sudden!… It made me feel awful!… I was sick to my stomach again… I found another doormat… I threw up in the gutter… The passers-by were noticing… I had to beat it… Anyway I had to move on…
I stopped again at the end of the Rue Saint-Denis… I couldn’t go any farther, I found a niche where I couldn’t be seen at all… I felt better once I was sitting down… it was walking that turned my stomach… When I began to feel dizzy, I looked up in the air… It relieved my nausea to look up… The sky was very clear… I think I’ve never seen it so plainly… I was astonished that evening to see it so cloudless… I recognized all the stars… Well, pretty near all of them… I knew the names!… The old clown had pestered me enough with his trajectory orbits!… Funny how I’d remembered them… I hadn’t made much of an effort, I’ve got to admit… Caniope and Andromeda… they were right there on the Rue Saint-Denis… right over the roof across the street… A little further right the Wagoner, that kind of blinks in the direction of Libra… I knew them all right… It’s a little harder to get Ophiuchus straight… You could easily mistake it for Mercury except for the asteroid!… That’s a neat trick… But you pretty near always get the Cradle and Berenice mixed up… Pelleas is a hard one to pick out! That night you couldn’t miss it!… That was Pelleas to a T!… North of Bacchus!… A short-sighted ape could have found it… Even the Great Nebula of Orion was clear as day… between the Triangle and Ariadne… You couldn’t go wrong… A unique, exceptional opportunity!… In Blême we’d only seen Orion once all year… And we’d looked for it every night!… Mr Spyglass would have been mighty glad of the chance to observe it so distinctly… he was always going on about it… He’d published a guide about the “Asteroidal References”… there was even a whole chapter about the Nebula of Antiope… It was really a surprise to be seeing it in Paris… where the sky is famous for being so smutty and opaque!… I could hear Courtial raving about it!… I could hear him gassing away beside me on a bench…
“You see, my boy, the one that trembles?… That’s not even a planet… it’s a fake!… It’s not even a point of reference, not even an asteroid!… It’s nothing but a vagabond!… See what I mean?… So watch your step!… A vagabond!… Wait another two million years, maybe then it will give off a profuse light!… Maybe then you’ll be able to get a picture!… Right now it’s a phoney and you’ll ruin your whole plate!… That’s all the good it’ll do you… And those ‘vaporids’ are deceptive, my boy!… It’s not even a periodic comet… Don’t let them fool you, Antonio! The stars are a lot of floozies!… Look before you leap! They’re no little white dwarves! Watch your dynameter! A quarter of a second’s exposure! A quarter tenth and your film is shot! Oh, they’re fierce! They’re incorrigible! Watch your step, Lolita! They don’t give plates away at the flea market!… Not by a long shot, my dear bishop!…” I could hear all the old blarney!… “Once you’ve looked at a thing, you ought to remember it for ever!… Don’t force your intelligence!… It’s reason that gums everything up… Give your instinct a chance… Once it gets a good look, the game is won!… It’ll never deceive you!…” My reason had taken a powder… all I had left was blotting paper in my legs… I kept on walking though… And then I found another bench… I crumpled against the back… It wasn’t exactly warm any more… it seemed to me that the old boy was there on the other end, turning his back to me. I was seeing things… I shot the shit in his place… his exact own words… I wanted to hear him talk… to remember everything he’d said… He was in front of me on the pavement!… “Ferdinand! Ferdinand! Ingenuity is man… Don’t waste yourself on low thoughts…” He told me all his fairy tales, and I remembered them all together!… I was talking out loud!… The people stopped to listen… They must have thought I was drunk… So then I shut my trap… But it stirred me up just the same… my dome was all full of it. Those memories really had a hold on me… I couldn’t believe the old clothes peg was dead… And yet I could see him with his head all marmalade… the meat still twitching… and messing all over the road!… Hell! And the farm at the bottom of the hill! And that Arton bitch and her kid… and the trowel!… And Mother Jeanne and the wheelbarrow!… And me and the old lady wheeling him down the road!… Ah, the bastard! He wouldn’t let go!… He went bouncing through my memory!… I thought of all those things… the Insurrection bar… Formerly!… The superintendent on the Rue des Bon-Enfants… his cock-eyed rays!… And all those putrid potatoes… Ah, it was stinking when you think of it… the way that bastard lied to us… And now he was starting again!… He was right there in front of me… next to the bench… His meat smell was there… My nose was full of it… That’s the presence of death for you… when you do their talking for them… All of a sudden I stood up… I couldn’t stand it… I was going to let out one terrible yell… and get myself pinched good and proper… I lifted up my eyes… so as not to see the house fronts… They made me too sad… I saw his face too much on the walls… behind all the window panes… in the darkness… Up there Orion had disappeared… I’d lost my landmark in the clouds… But I managed to find Andromeda… I kept looking… I looked for Caniope… the one that blinks at the Dipper… Naturally I got dizzy… I started walking again anyway… I went down the Grands Boulevards… I came back to the Porte Saint-Martin… I was dead on my feet!… I was zigzagging!… I knew it myself… I was scared pink of the cops!… They thought I was tight too!… In front of the clock at the Nègre I went “Pst! Pst!” to a cab!… He took me in…
“To Uncle Édouard’s!…” I said…
“Uncle Édouard? Where’s that?…”
“Rue de la Convention! Fourteen!” I was bound to get picked up if I kept wandering around like that… feeling so rotten dizzy… It was getting awfully risky… If the cops had questioned me… I was all mixed up in the first place… I’d never know what to say… The ride in the cab did me good… It really picked me up a little… Uncle Édouard was home… He didn’t seem very surprised… He was glad to see me… I sit down at his table… I take off my coat… I only had the little corduroy jacket under it…
“That’s some get-up!” he remarked… He asked me if I’d had dinner.
“No, I’m not hungry…” I said…
“So you’ve lost your appetite?…”
He went right on talking… He told me all about himself… He had his troubles… He’d just come back from Belgium, he’d been in a terrible mess!… He’d finally unloaded his little “extra-collapsible” pump on a manufacturing consortium… the terms weren’t so hot… He was damn sick of lawsuits and claims… in connection with the “multiple” and “reversible” patents… He was fed up!… He didn’t go for lawyers and headaches… With this little
spot of cash he was going to buy some simple straightforward business… something in the mechanical line… a going concern… repairing small cars… second-hand jalopies… That’s always a profitable deal… In addition he’d take back his customers’ lamps and horns. That was down his alley… He’d modernize them… There’s always a demand for little nickel and copper accessories… All you’ve got to do is keep up with the styles… You fix them up… and then you find a customer good for a three-hundred-per-cent profit!… That’s business for you!… He wasn’t worrying… He knew all the tricks… If he hadn’t quite made up his mind, it was on account of the premises… He still wanted to think it over… The lease wasn’t very clear… They were asking plenty for the goodwill… He smelt a slight rat!… They weren’t giving the equipment away either!… He was letting the negotiations drag on… He’d learnt his lesson… He’d almost bought into some kind of company that was building a regular factory for body accessories… not a hundred yards from the Porte de Vanves… Nothing had come of it… They’d been screwing him in the contract… At the last moment he’d got cold feet… He hadn’t trusted his partners… And he hadn’t been wrong!… He always stopped to think… It was too good to be honest!… Pretty near forty-seven per cent!… Hell, they had to be bandits!… He didn’t regret it much!… He’d have been taken sure as shit with those kinds of gangsters!… So anyway he spilt his story… he told me everything that had happened in his business from the time we’d gone to Blême to the present moment… Then it was my turn… I started off very slowly… He listened all the way…
Death on Credit Page 65
