David Wallace - Broom of the System

“Hell of a lot of masks, here,” Lenore muttered.

“The problem, again, however,” Alvin continued, “was that in making their own sense of self and rightness-with-themselves-as-people depend on things outside them, the family-members were letting themselves in for riskiness and trouble. Things couldn’t be people, not even the people they belonged to.” The tiny masks on the objects were taken off and discarded with wide arm-motions. Alvin said, “And now a lost or a misplaced thing meant what, for the Snapiard family?”

“What?” shouted the audience on the television.

There was silence. Alvin took Clarice’s Visa Gold Card, and she the watch, and they traded masks. Alvin’s nose had been sweating heavily, and Clarice was clearly less than pleased about putting his mask on. Clarice took English Muffin and gave Spatula the Alvin-mask. Soon each member of the family was wearing an incorrect mask and was twirling around, symbolizing disorientation and despair, although the despair-effect was compromised somewhat by the fact that Spatula really liked to twirl, and was giggling.

/f/

Lenore’s sister is ravingly lovely, if one likes the ravingly lovely type, with soft honey hair and dark blue eyes and breasts like artillery; but she is cocky and serious and dull and utterly (and un-attractively unaware that she is utterly) dependent on the Latest Thing for her sense of direction and worth. Her husband is a civil man, though that he lusts after Lenore I do not for one second doubt. Alvin Spaniard is randy. My understanding — which is arrived at via Lenore and so is of course vague — is that on four occasions early last year Alvin Spaniard had sexual intercourse with his Georgia peach of a receptionist. Clarice Spaniard found out about the incidents from Sigurd Foamwhistle, Stonecipher Beadsman III’s executive aide and possibly the half brother of Lenore’s younger brother, and in any event a man about whose unsavory desires with respect to Clarice and Lenore both I am in no doubt whatsoever. So Clarice found out, and there were, for a while, various kickings of emotional ass. They subsided, and Alvin and Clarice finally sat down and conferred, and it was decided marriage therapy was needed, Alvin agreeing vigorously, obviously — loving his wife, also liking his job. Marriage therapy degenerated into family therapy. God knows what all went on. I know there were stages concerned with human sculpture, in which each member of the family molded the others into those positions reflecting perceived relationships, etc. There were fights involving toy clubs made of Nerf material. The Spaniard vogue now is apparently drama, carried on in front of a fabricated audience; rather, at least tonight, at least one real person — regardless of what that person herself may happen to think. Lenore and Clarice are not close. As are not Monroe and I. She says she avoids going over. But where does she go, then?

A bad day. The urine dream has so upset me that I find it hard to function. As it were. I miss Lenore. I feel physical pain, now, when I am absent or apart from Lenore Beadsman. Which is, of course, always. Too bad a day to think actively of what her father might be trying to do. On the face of it I must say that it seems to me that whatever I can do to establish connections with Lenore’s family, to deepen and strengthen the personal bonds that join Lenore and me, can only hasten that day when I am able truly and completely and finally to take Lenore Beadsman inside myself.

A bad, bad day. Dark, soaring feelings of important tasks yet undone. Yet unknown. I am afraid to go to the bathroom.

/g/

All the excitement of the twirling and giggling, and the tension of live performance, but especially the twirling, had been responsible for a slight crisis with respect to Spatula. Things were quickly put right again, though, with Lenore helping with paper towels, and the audience was put in a FREEZE mode, and finally unfrozen, and things got back underway.

Stoney: “Disorientation and sadness resulted when the family-members tried to depend on things that weren’t them and weren’t the family for their own happiness and being-themselves-ness.”

“Sense of self.”

“Sense of self. So they… they…”

Clarice stepped forward and gently pushed Stonecipher out of the way:

“So they did what any smart family-members would do. They talked with one another, and aired the things they weren’t comfortable with as people right then, and meaningful dialogue and personal interaction was established, and the family-members began to grow emotionally both as individuals and as members of an emotional network of shared interests and values and emotional commitments, and then the growth and development and dialogue was facilitated by their going and seeing an outside party whose whole life was directed toward helping family-members grow and see themselves clearly both as selves and members, and so come to a fuller and happier sense of self.”

The invisible orchestra on the television now struck up a tune, and in the living room in Cleveland Heights there took place a sort of dance, with involved connections and motions and gestures, each directed by family-members at other family-members, while the audience clapped its hands. The dance would have been better, except Alvin wasn’t participating with full enthusiasm, and kept gravitating back to the sofa and looking down through his mask at his notes from the Kopek Spasova interview.

The dance ended. Lenore looked at the clock on the mantel. Spatula, damp but cheerful, stepped forward.

“And after a long time of trying, the Snapiards…,” she giggled, “… discovered the easiest thing in the whole world. They all discovered that they couldn’t try to depend for their feelings of being themselves on just the whole family, because they each weren’t the whole family.” The Spaniards all went and stomped on their FAMILY-MEMBER masks. “And they couldn’t get their feelings of themselves from things, because they weren’t things.” They all pretended to stomp on their things, but didn’t really, especially Alvin and his Spiro Agnew watch. “They found out that what they needed to get their feelings of being themselves from was, themselves …,” Spatula smiled wonderfully at the television as a murmur went through the crowd, “… because that’s what they were. The easiest thing in the world is what they saw.” And Alvin, Clarice, Stoney, and Spatula took off their Alvin-, Clarice-, Stoney-, and Spatula-masks, and stared deeply into the empty eyeholes of their own faces. Through one of her eyeholes Spatula said to the television, “The End.” The television audience rose as one.

/h/

“Dum de dum de dum de dum.”

“La de da de da de da.”

“Jesus shall not want.”

“ ”

“Jesus shall not want.”

“What?”

“Pardon me?”

“What in the Lord’s name?”

“The Lord is my supper. Jesus shall not want.”

“Sweet Mother McCree.”

“You fill me up.”

“It’s a miracle.”

“Lay your sleeping head, my love.”

“Dear Father in heaven.”

“Human on my faithless arm.”

“The bird has been touched by God.”

“The bird has been touched by God.”

“Yes.”

“I have to do what’s right for me as a person.”

“Thank you Lord. Thank you for touching this house. Oral, I did, I expected a miracle.”

“The sins of the fathers.”

“Charlotte’s Web. It’s like Charlotte’s Web.”

“A camel, like this.”

“Dare I touch you?”

“Women need space, too.”

“Ow! Well, the dear little thing still bites.”

“Clint Clint Clint. It’s like Charlotte’s Web.”