Twice? Twice? Twice? Twice?
Hey Moll.
Who’s that?
It’s me.
Me who?
Soapbox.
Soapbox!
I got it!
Got what?
The Foot! I got it right here!
I thought you were blown up!
Naw I pretended to be bought so I was out of the way. Went with them back to their headquarters, or den. Then when they put the Foot back in the refrigerator I grabbed it and beat it back here.
They kept it in the refrigerator?
It needs a constant temperature or else it gets restless. It’s hot-tempered. They said.
It’s elegant. Weighs a ton though.
Be careful you might—
Soapbox, I am not totally without—it’s warm to the hand.
Yes it is warm I noticed that, look what else I got.
What are those?
Thalers. Thalers big as onion rings. Forty-two grand worth.
What are you going to do with them?
Conglomerate!
It is wrong to want to live twice, said the emerald. If I may venture an opinion.
I was very poor, as a boy, said Vandermaster. Nothing to eat but gruel. It was gruel, gruel, gruel. I was fifteen before I ever saw an onion.
These are matters upon which I hesitate to pronounce, being a new thing in the world, said the emerald. A latecomer to the welter. But it seems to me that, having weltered, the wish to re-welter might be thought greedy.
Gruel today, gruel yesterday, gruel tomorrow. Sometimes gruel substitutes. I burn to recoup.
Something was said I believe about love.
The ghostfish of love has eluded me these forty-five years.
That Lily person is a pleasant person I think. And pretty too. Very pretty. Good-looking.
Yes she is.
I particularly like the way she is dedicated. She’s extremely dedicated. Very dedicated. To her work.
Yes I do not disagree. Admirable. A free press is, I believe, an essential component of—
She is true-blue. Probably it would be great fun to talk to her and get to know her and kiss her and sleep with her and everything of that nature.
What are you suggesting?
Well, there’s then, said the emerald, that is to say, your splendid second life.
Yes?
And then there’s now. Now is sooner than then.
You have a wonderfully clear head, said Vandermaster, for a rock.
Okay, said Lily. I want you to tap once for yes and twice for no. Do you understand that?
Tap.
You are the true Foot of Mary Magdalene?
Tap.
Vandermaster stole you from a monastery in Italy?
Tap.
A Carthusian monastery in Merano or outside Merano?
Tap.
Are you uncomfortable in that reliquary?
Tap tap.
Have you killed any witches lately? In the last year or so?
Tap tap.
Are you morally neutral or do you have opinions?
Tap.
You have opinions?
Tap.
In the conflict we are now witnessing between Moll and Vandermaster, which of the parties seems to you to have right and justice on her side?
Tap tap tap tap.
That mean Moll? One tap for each letter?
Tap.
Is it warm in there?
Tap.
Too warm?
Tap tap.
So you have been, in a sense, an unwilling partner in Vandermaster’s machinations.
Tap.
And you would not be averse probably to using your considerable powers on Moll’s behalf.
Tap.
Do you know where Vandermaster is right now?
Tap tap.
Have you any idea what his next move will be?
Tap tap.
What is your opinion of the women’s movement?
Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap.
I’m sorry I didn’t get that. Do you have a favorite color what do you think of cosmetic surgery should children be allowed to watch television after ten P.M. how do you feel about aging is nuclear energy in your opinion a viable alternative to fossil fuels how do you deal with stress are you afraid to fly and do you have a chili recipe you’d care to share with the folks?
Tap tap.
The first interview in the world with the true Foot of Mary Magdalene and no chili recipe!
Mrs. Vandermaster.
Yes.
Please be seated.
Thank you.
The red chair.
You’re most kind.
Can I get you something, some iced tea or a little hit of Sanka?
A Ghost Dance is what I wouldn’t mind if you can do it.
What’s a Ghost Dance?
That’s one part vodka to one part tequila with half an onion. Half a regular onion.
Wow wow wow wow wow.
Well when you’re eighty-one, you know, there’s not so much. Couple of Ghost Dances, I begin to take an interest.
I believe I can accommodate you.
Couple of Ghost Dances, I begin to look up and take notice.
Mrs. Vandermaster, you are aware are you not that your vile son has, with the aid of various parties, abducted my emerald? My own true emerald?
I mighta heard about it.
Well have you or haven’t you?
’Course I don’t pay much attention to that boy myself. He’s bent.
Bent?
Him and his dog. He goes off in a corner and talks to the dog. Looking over his shoulder to see if I’m listening. As if I’d care.
The dog doesn’t—
Just listens. Intently.
That’s Tarbut.
Now I don’t mind somebody who just addresses an occasional remark to the dog, like “Attaboy, dog,” or something like that, or “Get the ball, dog,” or something like that, but he confides in the dog. Bent.
You know what Vandermaster’s profession is.
Yes, he’s a mage. Think that’s a little bent.
Is there anything you can do, or would do, to help me get my child back? My sweet emerald?
Well I don’t have that much say-so.
You don’t.
I don’t know too much about what-all he’s up to. He comes and goes.
I see.
The thing is, he’s bent.
You told me.
Wants to live twice.
I know.
I think it’s a sin and a shame.
You do.
And your poor little child.
Yes.
A damned scandal.
Yes.
I’d witch his eyes out if I were you.
The thought’s appealing.
His eyes like onions . . .
A black bloodhound who looks as if he might have been fed on human milk. Bloodhounding down the center of the street, nose to the ground.
You think this will work?
Soapbox, do you have a better idea?
Where did you find him?
I found him on the doorstep. Sitting there. In the moonlight.
In the moonlight?
Aureoled all around with moonglow.
You think that’s significant?
Well I don’t think it’s happenstance.
What’s his name?
Tarbut.
There’s something I have to tell you.
What?
I went to the refrigerator for a beer?
Yes?
T
he Foot’s walked.
Dead! Kicked in the heart by the Foot!
That’s incredible!
Deep footprint right over the breastbone!
That’s ghastly and awful!
After Lily turned him down he went after the emerald with a sledge!
Was the emerald hurt?
Chipped! The Foot got there in the nick!
And Moll?
She’s gluing the chips back with grume!
What’s grume?
Clotted blood!
And was the corpse claimed?
Three devils showed up! Lily’s interviewing them right now!
A free press is not afraid of a thousand devils!
There are only three!
What do they look like?
Like Lather, the editor!
And the Foot?
Soapbox is taking it back to Italy! He’s starting a security-guard business! Hired Sallywag, Wide Boy, Taptoe, and Sometimes!
What’s your name by the way?
My name is Knucks. What’s your name?
I’m Pebble. And the dog?
The dog’s going to work for Soapbox too!
Curious, the dog showing up on Moll’s doorstep that way!
Deus Lunus works in mysterious ways!
Deus Lunus never lets down a pal!
Well how ’bout a drink!
Don’t mind if I do! What’ll we drink to?
We’ll drink to living once!
Hurrah for the here and now!
Tell me, said the emerald, what are diamonds like?
I know little of diamonds, said Moll.
Is a diamond better than an emerald?
Apples and oranges I would say.
Would you have preferred a diamond?
Nope.
Diamond-hard, said the emerald, that’s an expression I’ve encountered.
Diamonds are a little ordinary. Decent, yes. Quiet, yes. But gray. Give me step-cut zircons, square-cut spodumenes, jasper, sardonyx, bloodstones, Baltic amber, cursed opals, peridots of your own hue, the padparadscha sapphire, yellow chrysoberyls, the shifty tourmaline, cabochons . . . But best of all, an emerald.
But what is the meaning of the emerald? asked Lily. I mean overall? If you can say.
I have some notions, said Moll. You may credit them or not.
Try me.
It means, one, that the gods are not yet done with us.
Gods not yet done with us.
The gods are still trafficking with us and making interventions of this kind and that kind and are not dormant or dead as has often been proclaimed by dummies.
Still trafficking. Not dead.
Just as in former times a demon might enter a nun on a piece of lettuce she was eating so even in these times a simple Mailgram might be the thin edge of the wedge.
Thin edge of the wedge.
Two, the world may congratulate itself that desire can still be raised in the dulled hearts of the citizens by the rumor of an emerald.
Desire or cupidity?
I do not distinguish qualitatively among the desires, we have referees for that, but he who covets not at all is a lump and I do not wish to have him to dinner.
Positive attitude toward desire.
Yes. Three, I do not know what this Stone portends, whether it portends for the better or portends for the worse or merely portends a bubbling of the in-between but you are in any case rescued from the sickliness of same and a small offering in the hat on the hall table would not be ill regarded.
And what now? said the emerald. What now, beautiful mother?
We resume the scrabble for existence, said Moll. We resume the scrabble for existence, in the sweet of the here and now.
How I Write My Songs
SOME OF the methods I use to write my songs will be found in the following examples. Everyone has a song in him or her. Writing songs is a basic human trait. I am not saying that it is easy; like everything else worthwhile in this world it requires concentration and hard work. The methods I will outline are a good way to begin and have worked for me but they are by no means the only methods that can be used. There is no one set way of writing your songs, every way is just as good as the other as Kipling said. (I am talking now about the lyrics; we will talk about the melodies in a little bit.) The important thing is to put true life into your songs, things that people know and can recognize and truly feel. You have to be open to experience, to what is going on around you, the things of daily life. Often little things that you don’t even think about at the time can be the basis of a song.
A knowledge of all the different types of songs that are commonly accepted is helpful. To give you an idea of the various types of songs there are I am going to tell you how I wrote various of my own, including “Rudelle,” “Last Night,” “Sad Dog Blues,” and others—how I came to write these songs and where I got the idea and what the circumstances were, more or less, so that you will be able to do the same thing. Just remember, there is no substitute for sticking to it and listening to the work of others who have been down this road before you and have mastered their craft over many years.
In the case of “Rudelle” I was sitting at my desk one day with my pencil and yellow legal pad and I had two things that were irritating me. One was a letter from the electric company that said “The check for $75.60 sent us in payment of your bill has been returned to us by the bank unhonored etc. etc.” Most of you who have received this type of letter from time to time know how irritating this kind of communication can be as well as embarrassing. The other thing that was irritating me was that I had a piece of white thread tied tight around my middle at navel height as a reminder to keep my stomach pulled in to strengthen the abdominals while sitting—this is the price you pay for slopping down too much beer when your occupation is essentially a sit-down one! Anyhow I had these two things itching me, so I decided to write a lost-my-mind song.
I wrote down on my legal pad the words:
When I lost my baby
I almost lost my mine
This is more or less a traditional opening for this type of song. Maybe it was written by somebody originally way long ago and who wrote it is forgotten. It often helps to begin with a traditional or well-known line or lines to set a pattern for yourself. You can then write the rest of the song and, if you wish, cut off the top part, giving you an original song. Songs are always composed of both traditional and new elements. This means that you can rely on the tradition to give your song “legs” while also putting in your own experience or particular way of looking at things for the new.
Incidentally the lines I have quoted may look pretty bare to you but remember you are looking at just one element, the words, and there is also the melody and the special way various artists will have of singing it which gives flavor and freshness. For example, an artist who is primarily a blues singer would probably give the “when” a lot of squeeze, that is to say, draw it out, and he might also sing “baby” as three notes, “bay-ee-bee,” although it is only two syllables. Various artists have their own unique ways of doing a song and what may appear to be rather plain or dull on paper becomes quite different when it is a song.
I then wrote:
When I lost my baby
I almost lost my mine
When I lost my baby
I almost lost my mine
When I found my baby
The sun began to shine.
Copyright © 1972 by French Music, Inc.
You will notice I retained the traditional opening because it was so traditional I did not see any need to delete it. With the addition of various material about Rudelle and what kind of woman she was, it became gold in 1976.
Incidentally while we are talking about
use of traditional materials here is a little tip: you can often make good use of colorful expressions in common use such as “If the good Lord’s willin’ and the creek don’t rise” (to give you just one example) which I used in “Goin’ to Get Together” as follows:
Goin’ to get to-geth-er
Goin’ to get to-geth-er
If the good Lord’s willin’ and the creek don’t rise.
Copyright © 1974 by French Music, Inc.
These common expressions are expressive of the pungent ways in which most people often think—they are the salt of your song, so to say. Try it!
It is also possible to give a song a funny or humorous “twist”:
Show’d my soul to the woman at
the bank
She said put that thing away boy,
put that thing away
Donald Barthelme Page 72
