J. Donleavy - The Beastly Beatitudes of Balthazar B

But a week was spent cheered. With an erection rising on the Metro and often in the bath. Where Beefy said it was always nice to give it quietly a soft and soapy pull. My heart now came to slowly climb that last bit of cliff to the mountain top. And just as I could stand there and see. Outside again. The world all around. Noisy boulevards and the night hour as cafe proprietors rub eyes and waiters count their francs at tables and counters across Paris. And I lay reading one morning the paper to see what new matter was afoot in Metz. I scratched an itch in my pubic hair. I took the autobus and scratched again on the way to class. At night I scrubbed and scratched. Through two days more. Whenever I decently could. And finally thought my God. Anoplura. As this word fell from a long closed closet of useless knowledge. After all these intemperate times. Shouted out as I lay in bed. Where I happened to be. Two jointed tarsi adapted for clinging to the host. Mouthparts used for biting or piercing and sucking.

And Balthazar B took a taxi to the public hospital. Walking in these dismal doors. Asked to wait and then what's your complaint Monsieur. Would Monsieur please remove his trousers and lower his drawers. A magnifying glass put near. Ah yes, ah ha, just what I thought. Please wait Monsieur, I shall be back in a moment. I stood waiting. Until I was ready to complain. And the man in his white coat came back, a pleased look across his face. He said I would be much obliged if you would come this way with me.

Balthazar walked trouserless in shoes and red unforgettable socks. The doctor opened a small door at the end of the room. He stepped aside and said pray proceed. I held my trousers over my arm and heard the strange murmur of voices beyond. The bare and dusty floor. A smell of paper and ink and familiar university sounds. Now become hushed. And I catch my breath as I suddenly stand facing the faces, a few black among the white, tier upon rising tier. Turning as the door slammed shut behind me. A white haired professor at a lectern. Smiling as he approached slapping a long pointer in his hand. Good day, Monsieur, thank you for coming. Now ladies and gentlemen, we have a rare case not too often encountered. Phthirus pubis, the infestations of which are less frequently seen. This good gentleman has been kind enough to help us today. That is enough, there will be no laughter please. Now. Monsieur. Would you lower your drawers please. Do not be alarmed, we have all seen what you shall show us many times before. And we would not trouble you but for your particular complaint. Yes. Please. Just lower a little more. Yes. And just a little more. Good. Thank you. The professor raising his eyebrows, touching his spectacles back on his nose and turning his voice to the class. Balthazar speechless, hands terrified at his hips, with nowhere to move or run, with the feel of blood burning on cheeks as bright as his socks. Catching his breath as the pointer comes back pointing again. The easy drone of the professor's voice. Now, it is a characteristic ladies and gentlemen, that while the body louse is never found on the head, the head louse may be found on the body. But the pubic louse may be found on other parts of the body including the head. Expect to find the louse wherever one finds man. If standards of hygiene are low they will be favourable to their multiplication. Stop that please. This is no laughing matter. This is a disease which can spread through an army and reduce it to a bunch of scratching idiots. I shall require complete silence while I continue please. In this case the pubic louse, sometimes more commonly known as the crabs, hooks into the skin near the roots of the hair. Here note the lightness and soft texture of Monsieur's skin which makes for an optimum host. The movement of the pubic louse is slow, crablike and deliberate. The professor turning. One moment if you please Monsieur. Balthazar B slowly pulling back up his drawers. Ah Monsieur, could I just ask that you keep them down for a few moments longer. Thank you. It is interesting to note that in the case of the body louse a louse free person lying in the same bed as a lousy person will begin to complain in six hours. Here now at the base of Monsieur's pubic hair, and you note it is thickest as it arches here over the penis. Here the eggs are attached when laid. Incubation eight days. The sensitive person reacts with scratching. The bite of the pubic louse, and this is most interesting. If you will permit me Monsieur, yes, to have a closer look. Now we shall see. Ah, yes, the characteristic blue spot is present. Thank you Monsieur. These spots are not found after the bites of the head or body louse. Typhus and trench fever are not transmitted. However, rarely but it is possible, blood poisoning and death can result from an infected scratch. Our patient here does not yet display any laceration. Treatment. As you can observe in this case, Monsieur's pubic hair covers the area about his private parts. These should be completely shaved. Silence please. And, ah pardon, the hair is to be shaved. And the area smeared with vaseline. Also. If you will turn around Monsieur please. Also, you should guard in treatment that the perianal area is accounted for. Oil treatment is to be avoided as it gives rise to smarting of the genitalia. The simplest and the best is the modern insecticide. Thank you Monsieur, you have been most helpful. If you go back by that door, I am sure the best treatment awaitsyou.

For the first three long seconds Balthazar B could not move at all. Staring as one was at the ball of paper nearby on the floor. Behind which one's whole being was desperately crouching. The professor's voice droning on in one's ears. Ladies and gentlemen, we may as well go on to the flea, the vector of the plague. As I now gather up my crushed soul and perambulate towards the grey door on my shoes hanging darkly from my red socks. To have a nurse behind curtains lather and shave me with idle heads peeking now and again and grinning. My penis would not stay down till I was nearly in tears. And jumped when the nurse flicked her fingers painfully hard on my poor pole end. Out of the hospital I ran two blocks, downed a cognac and changed to evening clothes to go that night carrying upon me a peculiar smell. I dined in solitary splendour off duck and Grand Echezeaux to gently gather up the shreds of me and avoid the Sorbonne forever.

All these months passing. I read Halsburg's laws of England until I got to the volume Malicious Prosecution to Mines, Minerals and Quarries. When you stop to look back and see all those days dreaming of a future. And say then, that was my life. And if any new days are to come it's now time to move. To go from this pleasant place. Of mahogany and tiles. Soft carpets and quiet grace. Where meals were amiably solemn. One's entrance and exit awaited by waiters smiling and the air anointed gently with towels. Uncle Edouard said my dear boy if ever you are financially incommoded. Go at once and stay at the best Paris hotel. Live elegantly and well till the bill is enormous. Then call your lawyers to come. For the time has arrived to throw the fake heart attack over a sudden fright from something in the closet. The ambulance comes. To take you of course to another hotel. Your lawyers surround you as one leaves on a stretcher. When the bill is waved in your departing face and the screams descend for payment, the lawyers will say Monsieur has had a woeful shock and they will be hearing further and better particulars of the spiritual and dietary damage soon.

And now this midday, sunshiny breezy and clear, Balthazar B walked out between the panelled walls and across the black and white tiled hall. All belongings sent the week before to 78 Crescent Curve, lain vacant over all these many many months. Courage now to go back at last, agrip of one's gladstone bag that went with me swaying in the moist clear breezes of Fermanagh. Soon to see Beefy. Whose last letter three days ago was amusingly brave and sadly grave.