J. Donleavy - A Singular Man

"Miss Martin, what time."

"I'm late. They stopped the train and were loading on lumber in the middle of the bridge. For about an hour."

"I just asked for the time."

"Twelve thirty."

"Thank you. Don't come in. I'm indelicate. Utterly frazzled. After being vaguely champion. I think. Last night. O God."

Nightmare. Somewhere between dreams. Bonniface appeared. Completely regaled in deep sea diving equipment. All the shiny knobs and valves on the waterproof helmet. We met on the sea bed. Bonniface smiling inside the little round window, lugging the great heavy square shoes on his feet. Mr. Mystery on a lead. We were having a serious underwater chat. I woke up when the sharks came.

"Mr. Smith, there were three men here yesterday. Who wanted to talk to you. They wouldn't say what about. I told them I didn't know where you were."

"Is there a bag out there, Miss Martin. A paper one with staples in it. Would you look please."

"I can't see anything."

"Are you sure."

"Yes."

"Look under everything. Is it hanging on the hook. Or the hat tree."

"It isn't here."

"O God."

"What's the matter."

"Find that bag."

"Don't shout at me."

"I'm sorry Miss Martin. Find the bag."

"I have found something."

"Where. Let me have it."

"I'm pregnant."

"No drolleries this morning please. That bag."

"Three months."

Smith spectacular. Throwing coats from the sofa. Knocking over the bathing screen. Miss Martin at the door, eyes blinking at the papers and garments flying.

"Come on Miss Martin, we must find this paper bag."

Miss Martin silently at the door. Smith on hands and knees looking under sofa and desk, two soiled soles of feet sticking out. Opening the window to peer down the airshaft. Pulling open drawers, scrabbling through files. To turn around wearily and face Miss Martin behind the tiny dark hole of her rifle.

"Miss Martin what are you doing with that gun."

"Listen to me."

"I'm listening. Put the gun down."

"No."

"Miss Martin. I hope you're aware of what you're doing."

"I am, you're not going to turn rat on me."

"I beg your pardon."

"No you're not."

"Miss Martin get a grip. For God's sake."

"My finger's on this trigger, that's all I need."

"Do you realise you could shoot me."

"Yes."

"All right. Put it down then."

"You think it's a joke."

"I don't think anything's a joke. Just want to find my paper bag."

"You didn't even hear what I said. I said I was pregnant. Over three months."

"This is no time to be hysterical. My eyeballs are rusted in the sockets. I feel terrible, what a hangover. And I can't find my paper bag."

"I'm not hysterical."

"Just point the gun a little away."

"What am I going to do. If my mother finds out."

"Please, put the gun down. Guns have a way of going off. I know you're an experienced shot. But my army revolver once went off in my holster and split open the toe of my riding boot."

"Shut up."

"O."

"You've ignored me all these weeks."

"Miss Martin, I've seen you every day. We've talked. Chatted. Short of presuming upon you."

"You presumed in the log cabin."

"I rescued you from a venomous insect."

"It wasn't. I looked it up in a book. You disappeared with that Miss Tomson. Glad her old dog was shot."

"Just let me put on my trousers, please."

"No. Stay right where you are."

"I don't mind being shot but not without trousers."

"You lousy sneak. You're thinking of beating it. I can tell. Who's going to pay all the doctors' bills."

"Control yourself Miss Martin."

"You bastard."

"I don't mind what you say but don't say it with the gun."

"I've had nightmares nearly every night."

"Is it me. The father."

"It's going to be a satisfaction to see you drop in your tracks."

"I mean, maybe it's me, all right. Why haven't you told me sooner."

"Because I only saw die doctor yesterday that's why. You fucker."

"That's unnecessary."

"So's your damn burial vault. And the bullet proof car youVe ordered."

"Well. All right. I mean is it any wonder."

"It's you."

"O.K. All right. It's me."

"Yes. You."

Smith putting one hand on the edge of his desk. Have a little support when the first bullet lands. I can take a few low caliber bullets in non vital spots. Terrible to sense she can hit a bee at fifty yards. One has premonitions. Which always come true too soon. Just a few more days and there would have been the armoured vehicle. Thing is keep talking. Leave any time between words and that's where the bullets fit in.

"Miss Martin. I know you're distressed."

"Shut up."

"I can't."

"Shut up."

"Please you've got to let me keep talking. You might shoot."

"That's right. Get your hand off that desk."

"Couldn't you just hand me over my cod liver oil."

"No."

"Can I have the morning newspaper."

"I can tell you what's in the morning newspaper. There was another man beaten and knocked into the tracks and an innocent bystander was arrested but the real one got away. That's what's in the paper."

"Don't look at me."

"You did it once and you probably did it again. Only now you've learned to run. And here read this filth which came yesterday."

Miss Martin flinging a white card. Landing against Smith's ankle. Perhaps now is the time to jump her. Through all the war's strategy, map reading, signals to the front, this is the first time I've been held at gun point. Suppose it's better than being lonely. I wish folks' Christmas greetings would come from the heart. Take my time reading this invitation.Al Moygrain Diltor CranzgotAT HOME12:01 A.M., 7 Eel StreetExplosive Gala GangbangTo be followed by the mixed racial withserum available for allergies.R.S.V.P. Sports apparel please

"Just a strongly flavoured invitation Miss Martin."

"You disappear every afternoon/'

"Miss Martin, please. I don't ask you where you go."

"Because I'm stuck alone in this gloomy dump and you don't care."

"I do care, very much. I don't want to see you unhappy."

"You see me underpaid, so how could you care if I'm happy."

"I'll review your salary. Anytime. Make a memo right now, if you put down the gun. The way I'm dressed, to fall mortally wounded. The papers would be full of it."

"I'm the one who should worry. You'll be dead."

"O dear."

"This gun is pointing at the biggest chamber of your heart."

"What sort of a raise do you want. Pension. Anything. Mention it."

"Just keep talking."

"I'd like to."

"Make it good."

"You mustn't get the idea I'm made of money, Miss Martin."

"You're buying an armoured car."

"As I've said, considering the present situation. It's reasonable enough. Now please. There are just the two of us here. Put the gun down. We'll go out of this wretched room, cross over to the bun and coffee shop. Sit over a nut ring, or doughnuts, whichever you prefer."

"O boy. I'll bet."

"It's true. I'm moving office again. Is that what you're thinking. That I was beating it."

"I'm going to have a baby."

"If it's me—"

"I'm going to shoot you. Right now."

"Jesus don't."

"I knew you'd rat."

"Hold it."

"You're a rat."

"Behind you Miss Martin. Is an apparition. I can see it. Hold fire. Just let me enjoy this vision before you shoot. Full of all the colors of the rainbow. And a mist, a light gentle rain. Like tiny tears that maybe an insect might cry. Just another ten seconds. Then shoot. After this, I want to go. Pray for me. I haven't got much religion but I believe. I'll just get down on my knees here for a moment."

"Why don't you die like a man."

"I will but please just look the other way. I would like this few seconds to be private. Don't want you to remember me as if I were begging. Please, don't watch me praying like this. As a final wish. Burn all the files. Sue my estate so you won't be without. Be blood for a blood test. Any reasonable judge will award enough for you and the little one. Now turn away. Cough before you shoot, I need an advance signal before I meet my maker. He lives on a hill for miles around with buttercups sprinkled in the green. According to a recent remark in this apparition."