J R

by William Gaddis

  —Try that God damned Christians strip you naked tear you up with oyster shells take your Christ! he blew back into the cup, dropped it empty into Won’t Burn, Smoke or Smell dredging pages up with his foot—give you a title small words mint condition how’s that, Agapē Agape never used how’s that.

  —Man like I mean I just said who wants your fucking title if nobody even knows what it means . . . the flexed knee sagged,—I mean look man do you want to ball?

  —Drop that knee little further everybody know what it means, picture on the jacket Taine write your jacket blurb sell a million . . .

  —Look, I mean do you?

  —Told you I’m, why . . .

  —Why, I mean like what else is there to do . . . her scratching fingers stilled,—I mean there’s nothing else to eat there’s nothing to even smoke so like you’re going to sit here reading this dirty book you wrote in the moonlight?

  —Told you too late no, fairies spent it.

  —What fairies man! she came forward to punch the punctured shade into light—I mean look, do you want to make it with me or not.

  —Told you too God damned late didn’t I! Why agapē’s agape little bastards up there spent it didn’t I?

  —Man like forget it . . . she’d undone the shirt’s button sinking back, dug in its pocket—I mean those must be some fairies.

  —Didn’t mean just meant . . .

  —I mean forget it!

  —Just meant something just, just trying to hold onto something just . . .

  —Like go hold onto it then! She sifted out a fold of white paper, stretching back—I mean go hold onto your Tootsie Roll man like I mean you’re going to end up . . .

  —Didn’t, end up . . . he braced an elbow, got his feet closer—sniff what I think you’re sniffing wake up with a bloody nose . . .

  —Man like doesn’t everybody? I mean gluing that quarter out there typing this great book with no paper in the fucking typewriter I mean you’re, you’re going to wake up like Schramm coming up the . . .

  —What . . . he steadied against Thomas Register coming up—what, coming up what . . .

  —Like you don’t want to know, man.

  —What coming up what . . .

  —Man you don’t want to know! watch your, I mean if you make me spill this . . .

  —Wait wait listen . . . he tripped against Hoppin’ With Flavor!—don’t move listen . . .

  —I hear it man it’s the fucking telephone I mean go answer it.

  —Told you wrong number listen!

  —Look man the phone’s not up there it’s in the other . . .

  —Quick toward the window move you’re the aerial listen . . .! Tonic Water Twist Cap capsized into Won’t Burn, Smoke or Smell as he gained the plateau of Musical Couriers—little further listen!

  —Man I have to answer it maybe it’s . . .

  —Don’t move . . .! he was gone between 24–10 Pad Pkgs and 48 No 1 Cans Beef Gravy—there!

  —Look I’m answering it man maybe it’s my . . .

  —Bastards!

  ——selection from Bruckner’s eighth symphony brought to you by . . .

  —Bastards you ow . . .! he caught his head, came down pounding Trade Extra 1909 slipped against 2 Dozen 57 The World’s Largest Selling Ketchup and kicked, got the mop handle—bastards!

  ——wedding of the grand alliance of education and technology forging the two edge . . .

  The mop handle flailed, he plunged it down, pounded—can’t play the whole symphony can’t even play the whole God damned scherzo bastards . . .! Musical Courier 1911 skidded offside, he twisted, pounded, kicked against 24–10 Pad Pkgs forced a knee against it, forced the other against 48 No 1 Cans Beef Gravy and sank further, tried a shoulder against the abrupt decline of 2 Dozen 57 The World’s Largest Selling Ketchup, fought a hand out—ooph! Trade Extra broke against a rib—bastards . . .!

  ——pedia, bringing the American family its full share of the world’s knowledge. Look for it in your local supermar . . .

  —Man like what’s happening in here are you up there? I mean it sounds like the whole fucking place is going through to the cellar what happened.

  —Shot the pianist.

  —Like it’s his boss on the phone I mean Bast’s, like I mean he’s really strung out man you coming down?

  —Can’t.

  —Look he said he heard this Mister Grynszpan’s here he wants to talk to him man I mean he wants to talk to anybody . . . she got over the collision of Tonic Water Twist Cap, brought moccasins up on it settling back—like go talk to him man I mean you know what’s with Grynszpan . . . she tapped the paper crease, held it up—I mean he’s really strung out in there like he’s yelling like you don’t know if he’s laughing or crying kitty kitty kitty? I mean he must be some creep, kitty kitty? Is he up there man? Chairman Meow is he up there . . .? her free hand scratched where it fell—like he’s probably so scared we won’t see him for a month, man? I mean what are you doing up there.

  —Peruse this fine volume . . . Trade Extra’s cracked leather spine sailed over NO DEPOSIT to hit the clock, the second hand fled into NO RETURN—armchair traveler God damned exciting journey no obligation . . . paper tore.—The music of the world is free to all. How’s that.

  —Like I mean I could really tell them man, you know? I mean like why should I have to be this fucking model just because this spaced out ten year old said I will, I mean I’m the one that ought to write this book you know?

  —For those whom classic pieces interest, Scarlatti, Bach, Haydn and old Handel have written oratorios and fugues how’s that.

  —Like I tell all my friends and I really break my ass when I get out of school like I take this charm course and how to do makeup and all and I mean then they’re all getting pissed off buying Vogue when I’m like never in it and I’m like nothing you know?

  —Unhappy Schubert speaks to them in the sweet tones of Rosamunde. Beethoven, master of masters, thrills alike the listeners and the performer of his Appassionata or beautiful Fifth Symphony . . .

  —And then I mean I finally figure out like all this time I’m trying to be it I really hate this fucking model I always said I’ll be, you know?

  —Chopin bemoans the fate of Poland in his nocturnes or breathes the fiery valor of his countrymen in Polonaise . . .

  —Like I mean you forget how you know? I mean like hating all these wise-ass generals and fucked up presidents we get and like these banks and faceless reverend garbage peels and asshole politicians I mean it’s just this big drag and like you forget, you know? I mean like really how to hate?

  —For other tastes great Wagner comes and, lifting them aloft above the clouds, transports them to the mighty Halls of old Walhalla, in Ride of Walküres, or takes them to the cool, green depths of classic Rhine in Nibelungen Ring . . .

  —I mean like when I finally find out I’m fine like just who I am, and I mean this model I always said I’ll be like I find out all this time I really hate her you know? I mean I’m breaking my ass and she’s like making me hate who I really am, you know?

  —The Pianola is the universal means of playing the piano.

  —I mean I could write this book people would read, you know?

  —Universal, because there is no one in all the world, having the use of hands and feet, who could not leam to use it with but little effort.

  —Like I mean I’d communicate, you know?

  —The striking of the notes of the selection, in proper time and place, is no concern of the player. This is correctly done by perforated rolls of paper . . .

  —Man you glued that quarter out there, I mean didn’t you . . .? She creased the paper closed coming forward—I mean this fucking lamp . . . she yanked it, hand fallen fumbling arm’s length in the dark where she stretched back.—Like listen to the water in there I mean I’m like I’m floating, man? you’re still up there . . .?

  ——homes in America, many were treas . . .

  —I mean listen it’s gett
ing closer listen. Man? Like I mean we could all drownd and nobody would even know it listen! I mean it’s getting closer man I can’t see are you up there? Man like my feet are caught in, help! Man like we’re tipping over help! Where’s, here kitty kitty it’s this big fucking storm Bast are you up there help! my feet are caught help! I can’t, man I mean it’s so deep I can’t, man it’s so warm I mean it’s running all down, oh wow, oh wow . . . and the torrents at sink and tub seemed to rise in the dark swollen by the sound of rain driven against the glass, where light came finally graying a sunless day.—Man like I’m having this nosebleed can you bring me something . . .? she waited up on an elbow, hand to her face—I mean are you still up there . . .? and she kicked free the knotted blanket, each step a bright splash on the fall of envelopes and pasted notes and letterheads, Modern Packaging, Financial World, over the collision of Tonic Water Twist Cap past 200 2-Ply where she caught up a damp wad of shirt to her nose—wow who dumped all the, man are you under there . . .? her free hand swiped through the billow of suds, rose pulling off her shirt and dropped to scratch her leg spread poised at the tub’s edge to kick off a moccasin—who’s, man is that you . . .?

  The door shuddered.—Got a delivery . . .

  —Like who’s stopping you . . .

  It sagged in—look I been here before I’m trying to deliver a truckload of where are you anyways . . .

  —Where does it look like . . . she batted the rise of suds from a shoulder,—I mean what are you staring at, deliver your delivery . . .

  —Thousand gross plastic flowers down there look, how you expect me to get a thousand gross plastic flowers in here you . . .

  —Man like who said I expect you to do anything? Like I mean that’s your problem, I mean you’re supposed to be this big delivering man do it how they told you in delivering man school, okay . . .? The shirt wad came up wet abruptly jostling pebbled pinks from the suds—I mean look man at least can you quit standing there pulling your pork and like answer the telephone? No I mean look it’s like right up there behind you . . .

  —The, oh . . . hello . . .? want the, who . . .?

  —Like who is it I mean if it’s for me I’m expecting this imp . . .

  —Somebody says where’s the boss at says he supposed to be in court . . .

  —Like tell them to fuck off I mean I’m expecting this very important wow, like I mean what’s this Macy’s window?

  —What in, look who the hell are you what are you doing here where’s . . .

  —Man he’s answering the telephone I mean what does it look like he’s doing here, I mean . . .

  —But what, where’s Jack what’s . . .

  —Like how do I know where’s Jack and I mean who’s that, like I mean what am I supposed to be some fucking sideshow?

  —Who’s what wait, wait who are you . . .

  —Yes you’re Mister Grynszpan? I have a summons here for . . .

  —Look damn it I’m not Mister Grynszpan my name’s Eigen, now what the hell’s . . .

  —Oh, this Mister Grynszpan on the phone then? Here you are sir, U S District Court Southern District BMT take you right there, now Mister Bast? One here for you from the United States . . .

  —Man look at these I mean do I look like Mister anybody? I mean get out everybody get out of here!

  —Sure you’re not Mister Bast either sir? I have a subpoen . . .

  —I’m damn sure yes now get out of here you too, get down from that phone and get the hell watch that door! Look where’s, what are you doing here where’s wait you’re the, your name was Rhoda wasn’t it you . . .

  —Like what do you mean was and I mean what are you staring at, what does it look like I’m doing man I mean look hang that telephone back up I’m expecting this important call and I mean that door, like push something against it before he gets that stuff in here . . .

  —What stuff who . . .

  —This delivering man I mean he’s like delivering this thousand plastic flowers, like I mean can’t you hear he’s knocking the fucking stairs down out there . . .

  —Oh that’s no, no that’s all right that’s somebody else, friend of Jack’s and mine he’s just bringing a big easel up to . . .

  —Like you and him have some friends man I mean hand me that shirt . . .

  —It’s all right he’s not coming in here with it he won’t bother us, he’s a painter been looking for a place to work he’s just putting his things back in the empty, here let me . . .

  —Look I mean I said just hand me the shirt. I mean like I can get out by myself okay?

  —Yes I just, here . . .

  —And I mean look man I mean I can dry myself too, okay?

  —What’s the matter I just . . .

  —Like nothing’s the matter I mean I just don’t need your hand there okay?

  —No but what’s . . .

  —I said I can dry there myself!

  —What’s the matter what’s so . . .

  —I said nothing’s the matter just get your look man I mean the telephone’s man I’m not kidding, I mean let me answer the fucking telephone get your . . .

  —Just, wait damn it I’ll answer it just . . .

  —I mean I’m expecting this very important . . .

  —Hello . . .? He’s not here no, who . . . Oh it’s you yes Jack’s been waiting for you to call he’s . . . just went out a little while ago yes but where can he reach you, I know he can’t wait to . . . Yes he’s told me about you it all sounds . . . pardon? No, no it’s e i g, I thought . . . Thomas yes Tom I, I thought Jack had probably . . . No he was but I’m giving the place up you see my wife just pardon . . .? No it’s a, it’s sort of a studio uptown he’s been working here since you left I’m just having my calls transferred here, I thought if my wife wanted . . . No not recently no something I wrote a few years ago’s out in paperback picked up some kind of an award but pardon . . .? Oh, oh you mean his book yes, yes he’s been working on it driving himself pretty hard since you left been having a few problems with the . . . I don’t think it’s really that though someone who’s not used to the kind of self-discipline that . . . No but every writer has dry periods I’m just coming out of one myself, quit my job I feel like I just got over a long illness but I’ve been having a little pardon . . .? Oh you’re still at the airport you just got in? I didn’t . . . just said Geneva yes he thought it was some family problem I know he’ll be glad to hear you’ve straightened it out, once these things get started I know my own lawyer’s said he thinks I should . . .

  —Look man hang up I mean I’m expecting this very . . .

  —Pardon . . .? Oh you’re, you’re welcome yes I . . . yes I’ll tell him that I know he’s . . . I will yes I’m looking forward to meet . . . hello?

  —Look I mean I’m expecting . . .

  —Yes I heard you, listen that’s a call Jack’s been waiting for, someone he’s . . .

  —Somebody he really doesn’t want to see man I mean I heard all about it.

  —Heard what don’t be silly, it’s the only thing holding him together he’s . . .

  —Man like nothing’s holding him together I mean if there’s really somebody he doesn’t want to see it’s her, like I mean who took my pants . . .

  —Well damn it where is he, keeps saying he thinks he’s sick I’ve been telling him to see a doctor listen was he drinking last night? Where the hell is he.

  —Like I said how do I know where is he, I mean these plaid pants I can’t find them maybe he wore them to go to the doctor place man I mean maybe he’s still up in that pile of boxes in there from last night.

  —Whole place is such a mess hardly get through the, what are all these matchbooks dumped my God what happened in here anyhow, books and mail dumped all over the look how did this happen, these toys I sent up here how did they get . . .

  —Look man I mean they’re all broken anyway what do you . . .

  —No but look film papers cans all over the Christ is that a cat up there?

  —O
h wow, like I was scared he got drownded . . .

  —Got what?

  —Like this shipwreck man, I mean this big storm last night there was this shipwreck here kitty kitty . . .

  —Listen what are you talking about, this . . .

  —Man I mean I was in it!

  —All right never mind look, I just . . .

  —Like what do you mean never mind I mean what does it look like happened here man.

  —God knows, I thought Jack was . . .

  —Knows what I mean I’ll tell you one thing he’s no fucking good in a shipwreck. Kitty kitty . . .?

  —All right listen I may have some important mail here and I’m looking for a, damn it look there are a lot of valuable papers stored here whole manuscript of my book splitting right down the side that box that says Hoppin’ With . . .

  —Man like that’s where the armchair traveler . . .

  —And this folder I’m looking for something I, some work I started it’s an old manila folder with tea stains all over it think I mislaid it someplace have you . . .

  —Man like the only old wait look out look out, I mean right by your foot that piece of folded paper . . .

  —What this? but what . . .

  —Man don’t spill it I mean wow I didn’t know I still have some left move your, look I mean there’s hardly room to . . .

  —Get your feet up then I’m just trying to see what these, Christ look how did this happen! all the notes for his book how could . . .

  —How could I what I mean he’s sitting here scraping it up with his feet like what am I supposed to do, I mean he hates it man.

  —Hates it don’t be, it’s the only thing holding him together reason he’s working on it again I told you this call he just got, she’s . . .

  —What man she’s what, I mean I’m telling you nothing’s holding him together man she’s why he hates it! I mean the telephone rings he says it’s the wrong number, like this big important call he says he already got it he won this free dance lesson man I mean you’re in there talking to her like she’s this big fucking inspiration I mean this load she put on him she’s really wiped him out man he doesn’t want to see her!