Lawrence Block - Ronald Rabbit Is a Dirty Old Man

Oh, hell, most of the time I didn’t even have an erection. It is not exactly unheard of for me not to have an erection in erotic situations, as I have not the slightest doubt Fran has told you. (Should you experience similar failings, you’re likely to hear about it, man.) But when that happened it was always because my mind was elsewhere, whereas this evening my mind was very much on what was happening. As a matter of fact, I cannot recall ever being so entirely involved in the Now, and entirely concerned with my partners.

So I not only didn’t have an erection but I didn’t want one. I just wanted to go on kissing and fondling and saying clever things and hearing them say clever things. Do you want to know what happened? I fell in love. I fell in love with all five of them. I fell in love with Merry Cat, too, and without laying a hand on her.

We played all the way to Darien, and they said I was their own personal Mad Poet and they would all share me forever, and I told them I wanted to take them all to Utah and marry the six of them and live happily ever after.

“And have children with all of us?”

“Only daughters.”

After we go to Darien—

But that’s enough. This typewriter not only says what it damned well wants to say, but it knows when it’s said enough. I would sort of like to tell you what happened after we got to Darien, and where I spent the night, and what happened the next day, and other things along those lines. I would like to tell you some more about the various girls, and some of the conversations we had and the things we said.

The typewriter has other ideas. It thinks I’ve said enough, and I have to abide by its decision. That’s the way we’re doing this.

The girls say they can’t understand why Fran left me. That they can’t understand why any woman would leave their wonderful Mad Poet. I don’t know, Steve, what sort of effect it would have on you if six beautiful, rich, sweet, sixteen-year-old girls said this to you. Maybe you would yawn. Not me. Not bloody likely.

Perhaps I’ll write more later. I seem to be in a letter-writing period, and after all, how many people are there for me to write to? So you may be hearing from me again. I might even tell you what happened later on.

Ah, well. It is Monday night and I am in New York, in my humble little flat on Bleecker Street. In a few minutes I will go to sleep in the very same bed where Fran and I so often shared connubial bliss, and in which you and she no doubt shared occasional moments of extranubial bliss. I wonder if I’ll dream, and of what.

Send the fifteen hundred as soon as you can, Steve. No big rush, but whenever you can spare it. And keep Fran with you. Not that I have any particular hatred for her, but I don’t much want to see her, and I honestly don’t think I could fit her into my schedule.

Eat your heart out, you son of a bitch.

Mr. Laurence Clarke

74 Bleecker Street

New York, New York 10012

Dear Mr. Clarke:

I am writing to you on behalf of our client Mrs. Lisa Clarke, in reference to her telephone conversation with you on 12 June and your letter to her of that date.

As of today’s date, your alimony payment to our client is seventeen (17) days overdue. While the special circumstances described in both your telephone conversation and your letter might ordinarily be construed as mitigating, your previous history of incessant delinquency in rendering such monies to Mrs. Clarke leads inevitably to the assumption that the present delinquency is nothing more than adherence to a standard pattern. In light of the above, I can only urge that you make speedy payment in the amount of eight hundred fifty dollars ($850) in lawful money to my client, and must advise you that unless such payment reaches this office within one (1) week we will have no course open but to seek legal redress.

Furthermore, I must insist on Mrs. Clarke’s behalf that you cease and desist from entering into any communications with her of the order of your most recent letter of 12 June. As you perhaps recall, the terms of your separation agreement with Mrs. Clarke, later embodied in your agreement of divorce, forbade any such unwarranted communication on the part of either party. Mrs. Clarke does not welcome such verbal attention from you, nor does she have the slightest wish to be made privy to aspects of your life as discussed in the aforementioned communication. It is our considered opinion that such communication constitutes a direct and unwarranted invasion of privacy, and a repetition of the offense will be dealt with accordingly.

I might further take it upon myself to state that both the tone and nature of the communication above described is such as to raise serious questions as to your own mental and emotional state. In this connection, let me offer the disinterested suggestion that you seriously contemplate seeking responsible psychiatric guidance, should you be financially capable of so doing after having discharged your just obligations to Mrs. Clarke.

I remain, sir, your most obedient servant,

RDC: sj

Mr. Roland David Caulder

Muggsworth, Caulder, Travis & Beale

437 Piper Blvd. Richmond, Va.

Dear Mr. Caulder:

I cannot thank you sufficiently for your letter of 17 June on behalf of your client Mrs. Lisa Clarke. It is entirely possible that I will have it framed.

It shames me to admit that of which you no doubt have by now apprised yourself, to wit, that there is no check for eight hundred fifty dollars ($850) in this envelope. My ability to discharge my just obligation to your client is contingent upon the success of a new business venture presently in the formative stages. While the details are necessarily cloaked in secrecy at present, I suppose I can tell you at least that my associates and I are planning a coast-to-coast network of blood banks. Rather than depend upon human volunteers, we intend to use turnips.

Let me thank you as well for your expressions of concern over my mental and emotional health. I too have had my doubts on that score, and have been pondering the entire problem for the past two or three hours (2–3 hrs.). As I cannot presently see my way clear to employing professional help in this regard, I wonder if I might impose upon you to apply your esteemed diagnostic talents to another letter. Toward this end, I am taking the liberty of enclosing a Xerox copy of my letter of fifteen June (15/6) to Mr. Stephen Joel Adel. You may remember that Mr. Adel was mentioned in the earlier communication previously cited.

I look forward with interest to your reply.

Mrs. Lisa Clarke

219 Maple Rd.

Richmond, Va.

Dear Lisa:

Christ, have they been spiking your father’s Ken-L-Ration lately? You wouldn’t believe the letter I got from the old bastard. I’m enclosing a Xerox copy of it along with my reply. You’ll note I sent him a copy of my letter to Steve. See if you can get him to show it to you. I know he won’t want to, and I also know it’s unethical of him to withhold it. I’d be interested to know which way the son of a bitch jumps.

Has he gotten worse lately or what? He’s always been pretty bad, but that letter was the limit. I mean, has he reached the point where he talks like that around the house?