Russell Hoban - Angelica's Grotto

Harold Klein, millionaire, said Oannes.

Belay that, said Klein. You needn’t tell the whole world about it; anyhow, a fool and his money are soon parted. ‘Sorry,’ he said as Staff Nurse Judy Magee approached, ‘I was thinking out loud.’

‘I didn’t hear anything,’ said Judy, offering a thermometer. ‘Pop this under your tongue.’

‘In a moment.’ Testing, said Klein to himself. Testing, one, two, three, four. To Judy he said, ‘Did you hear anything then?’

‘Like what?’ She put the blood-pressure cuff on his arm and pumped it up.

‘Words from me.’

‘When?’

‘Just before I asked you if you heard anything.’

‘You said you were thinking out loud.’

‘And after that?’

‘One twenty over sixty.’

‘Did I say that?’

‘I did — that’s your blood pressure.’

‘But after I said I was thinking out loud, what did I say next?’

‘You asked me if I’d heard anything. Would you like a sleeping tablet? They’ve written you up for one.’

‘No, thanks, I’ll be all right.’ He popped the thermometer under his tongue and tried to keep his mind blank while she wrote down his blood pressure. ‘OK,’ she said when she had noted his temperature, ‘I’ll look in on you in another hour.’

‘Right. See you.’ He was always pleased to see her in the night; hers was a sweet face, what he thought of as a Forties face, the loyal sweetheart in black-and-white war films, working as a riveter in an aircraft factory while her fiancé fought overseas. The shape of her face and her short hair reminded him of Melissa but the spirit that animated her face was altogether different. Oannes, he said, is that you?

Were you expecting someone else?

You’re different now, we’re having a conversation and it’s all in my head — I’m not talking out loud or whispering.

So?

You’ve become a proper inner voice! It’s been so long since I had one! To what do I owe this change?

We have more to talk about than we did before.

Like what?

Like how much money are you putting into this Melissa thing?

I still have to work that out. Why?

You’re not by any chance stalling, are you?

Stalling? Not really — it’s just that it’s something that requires careful thought.

I’m glad to hear that, because you don’t really know anything about her except that she tastes good.

Aren’t you the one who said that madness is the natural state?

Yes, but I never told you to go completely natural; there are practical limits to this sort of thing.

You’re starting to sound like the talking cricket in Pinocchio.

Maybe guys with wooden heads need talking crickets.

Look, I’m kind of tired now. We’ll talk again soon, OK?

Whatever you say, Boss.

In matters of wardrobe Klein was not burdened by his professional aestheticism; he was ordinarily to be seen in jeans and T-shirts when it was warm, jeans and polo-necks and various outdoor-man jackets when it was cold. Large black medically-bespoke boots were what he walked around in and he always wore some kind of hat to shade his eyes, as often as not a sort of bush-ranger affair in green canvas. Today, however, he sported a black shirt, tan linen jacket, and his hat was a Death-in-Venice panama.

‘You look different,’ said Doctor DeVere.

Klein shrugged. ‘Things change,’ he said.

‘What things?’

‘I had a heart attack, I’ve been in hospital, and my inner voice has come back. All the way.’

‘Sorry to hear about the heart attack. How are you now?’

‘I’m fine; it wasn’t a big one. They did a balloon job on the right coronary artery and put in a stent and now I can walk a lot better than I did before.’

‘What brought it on?’

‘The auction was a little too much excitement for me.’

‘Ah, the Redon! You’ve sold it then?’

‘Yes, it’s gone.’

‘Did it fetch a good price?’

‘A million and a quarter.’

Dr DeVere whistled. ‘Crikey! I’m not surprised that you had a heart attack. Unless, of course, you’re accustomed to dealing with that kind of money.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Will you be going ahead with your plan to fund Melissa’s study?’

‘Oh yes. We still have to work out the details. She visited me in hospital after the auction.’

‘Pleasant visit?’

‘Very.’ Klein couldn’t help grinning.

‘Cheered you up, did it?’

You don’t have to tell him everything, said Oannes. ‘We had a nice chat,’ Klein said to DeVere. ‘She said she could be bought.’

‘Did she! Is that how you think of the funding?’

‘I’ve told you before this that I think her project is worthwhile. She appreciates my support and I appreciate her appreciation. Everything is business in one way or another, Leon.’

‘That’s one way of looking at life, I guess. You said you’ve got your inner voice back. Is it the same inner voice you had before?’

‘No, it’s Oannes now. I’ve told you about the last time I heard my old inner voice: it was that day in the Fulham Road when I was trying to walk fast enough to get a better look at a woman who was walking much faster. I said to myself, “One day you’ll drop dead while something like that walks away from you.” Then I said to myself in a different voice, “Well, that’s life, innit.” And that was the voice of Oannes.’

‘So that was the transition, and since then it’s been only Oannes, right?’

‘Right, but he limited himself to one-liners until we started having real conversations in hospital.’

‘When did that happen?’

‘It was in the middle of the night, the same day Melissa visited me in the afternoon. He said, “Harold Klein, millionaire,” then we talked about money and Melissa and I was doing it in my head, not whispering: talking with an inner voice the way I used to before all this began.’

‘Not quite the way you used to. Did the old inner voice say things like “Madness is the natural state?”’

‘Certainly I’ve changed. People do change, you know.’

‘Let’s go back to the beginning of this whole thing. How would you describe the losing of your inner voice? What would you say was happening in you back then?’

‘My self stopped talking to me. I lost contact with myself.’

‘Why do you think you lost contact with yourself?’

‘All of me wasn’t going in the same direction; I was drifting apart.’

‘What would you say the different directions were?’

‘Partly I wanted to loosen up and partly I didn’t.’

‘When did you first visit Angelica’s Grotto?’

‘It was after our first session.’

‘Afternoon? Evening?’

‘Evening. I didn’t feel like working; I was having a drink and listening to Connie Francis. She was singing “Everybody’s Somebody’s Fool”. I went to Yahoo and told it to search for Sexuality.’

‘Were you feeling like somebody’s fool?’

‘I was feeling like anybody’s fool.’

‘So you went to Yahoo. Your Oannes, is he perhaps a bit of a yahoo?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘And Oannes is …?’

‘An aspect of myself.’

‘Can you say more?’

‘He’s an aspect of myself I’m quite comfortable with. When I talk to myself as Oannes there’s a lot less bullshit than there used to be.’

‘And a lot more sex.’

‘Well, I’m putting my money where my mouth is, and vice versa.’

‘And is all of you going in the same direction now?’