He was calling on me as a witness… All I saw was some guy carrying on like a fanatic… making his life miserable with his obsession…
When you’re young you’re in a hurry, even hard knocks don’t teach you a thing, you need to put on a few years, you need booze to start putting two and two together… and so you don’t louse everything up as soon as you stick your nose in… Youth is a bitch… Cascade was boring the pants off me with this Raoul rigmarole. I had completely forgotten about Raoul myself… But he didn’t. There’s a load of reasons for tears. Loads for laughs, too! That was my take on life back in those days!…
I tell him: “Enough already, Cascade! You’ve got to come to grips! Think about something else! Look at Curlers, she’s not all in a flap.”
As a matter of fact, she was stripping. Getting ready for bed right there in front of everybody on top of the billiard table… she’d taken off her blouse, her camisole, her slip. She stretched out on top. That was the idea… Vigils tickled her, she was chuckling away, in seventh heaven… Cascade couldn’t have cared less…
“So, kiddo!” he goes, then asks: “You’re staying with us then? Where’d you want to make off to?…”
“To La Plata aboard the Hamsün!… the Kong Hamsün… with Jovil the boatswain…”
“Who dug that one up for you? Prospero?”
Then he darts him this look, real nasty…
I kind of straighten things out… talk fast… patch up…
“It was all my idea, I really pushed the guy…”
I don’t want any run-ins with Prospero…
“He was dead set against it!”
I assert… assure… wouldn’t want Prospero to take the rap… I’m on the level…
“Well, that’s all right then!… That’s more like it…”
He rests easier… it mustn’t have been part of the plan for me to take such liberties… sail away across the seas! He was going to have a nice little chat with Prospero! I had to stay, end of discussion.
I looked at Cascade again… his topper yanked down over his eyes… his cigarette butt back and forth… to and from his mouth… he’s on edge… All of a sudden the whole scene got to him… He was staring at the girls… They were having a high old time!…
Everybody cakewalk!… Cancan!… Wagging… rocking… it really rubbed Cascade the wrong way… I could see he was about to jump right in the middle, slap around three or four of them… They were making noise on purpose… He held himself in check… chewed his tobacco… I could see his jaws…
“Will you take a look at this sideshow!…”
They were drunk on their asses… They’d put away more than the men, more than the sailors…
“Why’d you make them come?…”
I ask him, after all.
“Aw, knock it off, you know it’s your party!…”
Here we go again! He’s back on that kick!… This is as much a party as crêpes Suzette up my ass!… He was pushing me to my limit!
“Is so a party! Is so! You’ll see!”
He was absolutely insistent. He had a thing for riddles…
“OK, great!…”
He starts back up with his bitching… hunches down in his seat… Bang! Bang! Bang! Somebody’s at the door, knocking hard this time…
“Cut the music!” Prospero orders…
The girls snuff, blow out the lights – Cascade won’t have it, they’re relit…
Prospero cracks open the door. Two men barge inside. It’s Trafalgar Nelson and Ten-Paw… All out of breath and sweaty. They see Cascade, dash over to him…
“They got here!” he wheezes. “They got here!…”
“And so? So? Let ’em come in!…”
He doesn’t like shouting.
“Where are they?”
“In the hansom!…”
“Where are they, I’m asking you…”
“Jermyn Street…”
“And so then?”
“They’re coming via the dock…”
“They’re carrying it? Just like that?”
He motions… Is it heavy?…
They nod yes.
“Ten-Paw, you go show them the way… They won’t know… Tell them it’s OK. Nelson, you keep an eye on the door! Make sure you stay put! They’re on the way!”
All of a sudden there’s commotion outside… people calling… more Twee-eets! Twee-eets!
A crunch of gravel… footsteps…
“Prospero! Prospero! The roast beef!”
Cascade gets the show on the road.
“Girls, chow time!” he orders…
“More on the way,” Prospero grumbles…
“More? Oh! Crap! Cripes! Will you get a move on? And don’t forget the gravy! Nice and hot! Got it?…”
Prospero walks out, leaves the door open…
Dead quiet outside… nobody talking… no nothing… just the lapping on the embankment… Prospero’s mill busy grinding away… way back… in the kitchen… the ding… ding… ding… of the tram very far off… on the other side… the other bank!… Wapping…
Sosthène draws close to me… asks…
“What’s up?… D’you hear?”
He’s not as soused as all that…
Cascade hears him…
“Your ass!” He shuts him up.
Now’s no time to rub Cascade the wrong way… But I’d been wondering myself… Tobacco?… Hot merchandise?… A bag of poppies?… Opium?… Or else carpets?… Weapons?… Some secret shipment, whatever the case… funny business, for sure… I ask Cascade…
“Is it big?…”
I’d seen his gesture…
“You’ll see! You’ll see! Stay put!…”
“Ah, the hell with this, I’m out of here! Jeez, they’re waiting for me down at the old tub!”
“No, they’re not! They’re not! They aren’t waiting for you.”
I’m rubbing him the wrong way…
“Are so,” I go, “are so waiting for me…”
They were getting on my nerves all of a sudden, the whole pack of them… all together again just like that at Prospero’s place!… Perfect timing! A miracle… Just what the hell was going on?… That little son of a bitch Nelson, that lousy bastard Ten-Paw!… And all these drunks?… And that dyke over there!… And Cascade!… And maybe Jovil along with the rest?… All in cahoots!… An ambush in the bag!…
“Hey, wait!” I ask him flat out. “Did you all plan to meet up here?”
“Another ladle,” he answers me back… “mulled wine for your chest. You’re going to catch cholera! Draughts are just terrible, you know! Cholera!”
The door stood wide open… The girls were coughing, sniggering, nudging each other with their elbows…
Crunch of gravel… a crowd’s on the way… getting closer at last… Cascade grabs the lamp, blows it out… The girls start bitching…
“Knock it off!”
He goes outside. Talks. Comes back in. There’s three of them… carrying what?… I can see their silhouettes in the black door frame… whatever they’re bringing, it’s heavy…
Virginia whispers to me: “They’re carrying someone…”
I didn’t want to guess. They pulled the door shut. Prospero relights the lamp. Now you can see. I can see the porters. Clodovitz and Boro. I had the feeling… They set down their package on the floor… It’s heavy, huge, reeks to high heaven… Right off it takes one and all by surprise… spreading… Everybody catches a whiff… keeps mum… all eyes on me… creosote… tar… it packs a wallop…
Clodo… his big banana ears… the old rat-face is standing there right in front of me… sweating, dripping… glad to have arrived…
“Hello, Doctor!” I go to him…
“How’th tricks, pal?… How you doing?…”
They must have come a long ways… he takes off his glasses… sits… they had quite a time of it… I see he’s in a frock coat… Black from head to toe with a white tie… gussied up in a tux…
“Doctor!” I ask him… “Doctor! What are you bringing us?…”
I’d rather talk to him than Boro… I can’t stand the sight of Boro… brutal, fast-talking con artist… I can’t stomach the guy… whereas Clodovitz is an all-right sort… you can still talk to him…
Boro had a load on his mind… circling all around the package… going, coming, rocking back and forth… like some bear… looks to me he’s put on a few pounds since we last saw each other… around his shoulders… his ass… his hands… he’s busting out of his jacket…
He answers for Clodo…
“Oooh! Oooh! You’ll see, whippersnapper!…”
He chuckles to himself, shaking his big huge head, his chest, a barrel!… Ooh!… Ooh!… Ooh!…
“You’ll see, whiz kid!”
“Whiiizzzzz!” he goes.
“Drrrrinks! Goddamn it! Drrrrinks!…”
Always parched!…
Sosthène sniffs, sneezes… for good reason… the dust particles in the air, seems to me… All at once everybody’s sneezing… And then we break out laughing… our spirits high! Yes, indeedy, it’s my party! Good cheer all around! Music and dancing! Ever so much! A real wild time! Tra-la! Yippee! Dee-ay! The ladies want what they want! No let-up, not even for a minute! They climb onto Boro, smooch, fiddle-diddle him every which way! Squeals! Making whoopee! Clodo’s also getting his jollies, yukking it up, real down in the dumps when he walked in, but now look at him, practically saucy, trying to suck Nénette’s titty! The two have a little tussle…
“Doctor, you’re such a kidder!”
A rip-roaring wild old time all around!… Everybody pawing each other, a no-holds-barred smooch fest! The sailors take liberties… the watchmen can’t see straight any more… They’ve been celebrating so hard, chugging down mug after mug! Toasting me! They can’t believe their eyes any more!… They rub, tug at them…
“Long life! Happy Ferdinand! Long live France! Long live sailors!…”
But, jeez, the stink is something vile… Don’t they have noses?… They couldn’t give a shit… It’s coming from the bundle… in back… I’d like a look… It’s giving off this odour… a stench… looks like it doesn’t bother anybody… they sniff the air a few times… but that’s all…
I’d like to go over for a peek… Carmen’s got her eye on me… she didn’t have any drinks, not her… I ask Boro… He doesn’t understand a word… too absorbed… He’s got four girls hollering after him… trying to rip his trousers off… With one jerk of his body, wham, he breaks free… leaps away… he’s light on his feet when he makes the effort… his huge noggin weighs nothing at all… he grabs little Elise, and they’re off on the dance floor… A whirlwind… Everybody’s swept up… Three lamps are lit… The party’s back in full swing wilder than ever! Spirits so high! The girls are having a contest to see who can spin faster! Faster, faster still!… Spinning tops! Bats out of hell! Twisters! Bzing! Bing! Backwards! On your ass… Bang! Smithereens! Curlers is the wildest of the bunch, she’s spinning with Lulu Mouche… their arms and legs in a tangle… whirling… grazing their knees… flat on their faces they both blubber… Now the band strikes up… all the fifes… the sailors on ocarinas… Prospero on guitar, the Dago too… Dédé’s too sloshed!… Ten-Paw invites Virginia… he won’t take no for an answer… Cascade’s got new life in him… hot to trot… he leads the maxixe… sends Carmen flying from one end of the room to the other… Brown Sugar has hitched her skirt up over her head… she sticks her comb in her mouth, play fangs… solid green… she wants to show us her belly dance… She hollers she’s got the most beautiful beaver… That pisses off Angèle… who struts over to show what she thinks about that… whether that’s the proper way to dress for a dance! They’re going to mess it up… But there’s no more grog in the bowl… the battle breaks off… Got to light another punch… What an incredible rigmarole… No flames, no spirits!… At last, got it going!… Back in business!… This is an honest-to-goodness party!… No mistake about that! I say so to Boro myself… One hitch, the bundle they brought, sitting over there… In a tarpaulin… I ask him again… No answer… The stink’s honest-to-god awful… looks like it doesn’t bother anybody… They take a sniff, and that’s all… They kick up their heels, wave their arms, flap their jaws… as though nothing were wrong… The chorus is all the rage:
Watch your step!
Watch your step!
The girls belt it out, and again from the top… they don’t even know what’s coming out of their mouths… one’s bawling out ‘The Pampolaine’… the vino’s hot now…
Vouash your step!
Vouash your step!
Frenchified…
“Ah! Terrific job! Ah! Terrific!…” Each her own personal fan club… such great singers one and all.
Sosthène, who had really been put through hell, been worked over up and down every inch of his body, who had taken so many horrible whacks and now couldn’t walk any more, whom the cops had roughed up so badly, punched black and blue, huge bruises all over his body, all of a sudden he’s feeling up for some fun, a kid again with Mireille, he latches onto the ceiling lamps, starts leapfrogging… Everybody’s fun just kept growing and growing… Cascade sends me over his old lady, Angèle…
“Ferdinand’s bored!…”
She invites me… I can’t say no… And we’re off!… I’m not too crazy about the maxixe… It’s too complicated for me… I get all screwed up… I prefer a new step…
“Polka!…” I request. “A polka!…”
“All right!”
Prospero changes tunes… rats! It’s a waltz… Never mind!… OK!…
Yeeiikkes!… Right then… an awful screech!… From the back… from the darkness!… A stuck pig…
Everything stops…
Yeeooowww!… All over again!…
It’s Delphine, I’ll be damned…
I call her: “Delphine!… Delphine…”
I recognized her voice… Is somebody hurting her?… I can’t see a thing… all the ladies in the place are yelling… a free-for-all!… Pandemonium!… That banshee scream has flipped them out… They’re totally berserk… bawling, frantic, in a panic, huddling up against each other… I let go of Angèle, she drops right to her knees… She just kneels there, freaked, squealing, staring into space where she fell, reciting in a quavering voice:
St Beard! St Flower!
Hope of our Saviour!
All who pray to you
Will never perish!
Three-four times in a row like that. She stands up, flings herself on Carmen, into her arms… They sob, mumble together, moan…
“Virginia! Virginia!…” I call.
She comes running… I kiss her…
Well?… Well?… What’s the big catastrophe?
“Cascade! Cascade!” I holler for him… That’s no way to behave! He’s in back, looking into the business… He took the lamp… He’s bending over along with the others. They’re absorbed. Delphine is on her knees… They give her a push… uh-uh… she wants to stay there… they start yanking tugging her… they want her out!… Such a howl of protest! You’d think they were slitting her throat!… Back to screaming!… They don’t want her messing around with the sack, they want to stop her.
She claws back, bites, clings…
They pound her, she lets out horrendous howls, breaks free, escapes, scurries, reaches the other end of the room, stands up, threatens us…
“Hear Macbeth! Hear! Infirm of purpose!…”
She’s wound up again, accuses us, her threatening finger, bug-eyed, horror, you name it.
Her back against the wall…
“Give me the dagger! The sleeping and the dead…”*
She commands us. She rants, chokes, pants! She charges back into the mob, at the package, hurls herself on top again, locks it in a body clutch.
“Darling! Darling!” she calls. “Forget me not!”
The whole joint yells, baits her, a screaming match. Got to get her out
of here! Enough already! Up close the reek is truly foul… Rotting meat, putrid flesh, plus with those dust particles in the air… a combo that gives you the heaves… Of course I’m familiar with it… real familiar…
While they’re scrapping with Delphine – they’re trying to pry her away, she’s fighting back – I bend down… take a look… the lamp’s right here… I can see up close… first the head… a real mishmash… steeping inside… And with them whaling away like that! Oatmeal! It’s no dream!… The head!… The head!… It’s a head all right! Well, a huge hunk anyway!… It’s Claben… his mug all right… but minus his eyes!… And just a mishmash attached… neck shreds… the whole thing scorched real bad… in the canvas sack… sitting in its ooze… This is what they lugged over?… With all that big song and dance… the sack… rotting flesh… Ah! I was starting to catch on… one hell of a job… damn!… Where’d they get their hands on it?… That was the first question that popped into my mind… the sight of the corpse didn’t get to me, I’d seen my share, and then some!… Ah! What a business!… I see… I see… I take another close look… they’re not concerned about me… they’re at each other’s throats over Delphine… Prospero doesn’t want her thrown out… so she can kick up a fuss outside! They’re going to slug it out over her…
“No scenes! I don’t want a scene!”
Prospero’s shouting at the top of his lungs…
Sosthène looks along with me… leans down likewise… holding the lamp for me… I don’t want Virginia coming near… I sit her down… I bend over, just me… take an even closer look… trying to find the hole… in the skull… where Boro came out and attacked him… knocked him flat… And Bang! And Ping!… I was there… You bet I want a look-see!… But Delphine with the others over there, she spots me looking, touching her corpse… Ah! She’s off again… charges back at me… pounces on top… a she-tiger!…
“You witch! You devil!” she screams… “You killed that angel!”
I’m not going to hash it out with her, I’ve got a situation on my hands.
“Bullshit!” I shout. “That’s out of line!”
Ah! I’m defending myself, fuck this! Ah! And how!
“I didn’t kill anybody or anything! You sleazy slob! You’ve got some nerve, you liar!
London Bridge Page 55
