Stephen Dixon - What Is All This? - Uncollected Stories

This weekend.

What?

I said let’s get away this weekend.

What?

I said we’ll go away this weekend. For a trip. Just to be away.

What?

You telling me you still can’t hear?

Is that what you were saying all the time before?

No. I was saying we should get away this weekend. Someplace.

What?

I said — can you hear me now?

Are you still there, Biff?

I’m sure you can hear me.

I can now, almost, but not before.

You mean, everything I said before?

I don’t quite hear you.

I said, all the time before, you couldn’t hear what I said?

Is that what you said the last time you said something?

Yes.

Though not all the times before that?

The times before that you have to know I said something about our getting away this weekend.

What?

I’ll call you back.

What?

I said I’ll call back. This connection’s ridiculous. Something’s at least ridiculous. And we’re sounding ridiculous.

What?

He hangs up, calls back.

Hello?

It’s Biff. Can you hear me?

Hello? Is that you, Biff?

Yes.

Biff? Hello? I still can’t hear anything. Anyone there?

He hangs up, calls back.

Hello?

It’s me again, Jane.

Hello? Who is it? Shout if you have to, but I want to know who’s there.

IT’S BIFF.

Hello? I give up. I hope it’s not someone staying silent just to upset me. But if it is someone I know and want to speak to—

It’s Biff, Biff.

— then call back, okay? Anyway, I’m hanging up.

Good idea.

Biff?

You can hear me?

Suddenly I can.

You’re not playing a joke on me?

Why would I do that?

You might not have liked what I was saying. That you and I should go away this weekend.

What?

Oh, come on.

This time I was kidding. But where would we like to go?

Say, a cottage on the ocean.

Why the ocean?

Then a cabin in the woods.

No, I mean it’s that I could never see the ocean in the summer.

Bad eyes?

Bad joke. I don’t like sitting around getting sunburned. I think it’s so unromantic, getting unhealthy. Burnt skin, healing creams. White marks where the bathing suit straps were, bed soaked with sweat from your shiverings.

Then we’ll rent a dark dank cave with a single warm bed. Would that satisfy you more?

I hope it’s not just a bed you think makes for romance. Anyway, I can’t go.

Why not? Before, you sounded as if you could.

Before, I was curious what travel suggestions you’d make. I’m curious about a lot of things with someone I only recently met. Especially that he asks me away for a weekend in a single bed. But as I said, I can’t.

The single bed was a joke. But why?

Personal reasons.

Too personal to tell me?

You, yes.

Thank you.

Another thing I’m finding out about you is your infantile sensitivity.

You’d be the first woman to think or say that.

That can’t be true.

It isn’t. Several have.

Another about you is that you’re a bit of a liar, or fibber, but can’t keep to your fibs when it might benefit you or please another.

Is that an honest, dishonest or tomato aspect?

Tomato aspect? Tomato aspect. Good God. Another unpleasant aspect of yours is your numerous unfunny jokes.

And one of yours I’m pretty well fed up with is your criticisms of me. And fed up with your tomato aspect as well.

I’m sorry. And I think I better go.

My infantile sensitivity again?

Partly.

You prefer your infantile sensitivity in men to be more adult, right?

I prefer none at all.

An insensitive man, then?

No, I don’t. I’m getting mixed up. You’re making me mixed up. I really have to go.

This conversation’s gotten us nowhere. It’s in fact set us back a ways. Because I originally called with a nice attitude to ask if you wanted to go away this weekend.

You did. That’s true. And I don’t. That’s true too. Or rather, I can’t. I already told you why without being explicit. For now that should be enough.

Listen. I’ll see you.

Fine, if that’s the way you feel.

It seems the way you feel.

You know how I feel? How nice. Maybe this conversation hasn’t been a waste of time after all. But call again if you like.

You mean that?

I said it, so I meant it.

I’ll see you then, Jane.

Have a good weekend.

You too.

He calls back.

Hello?

You said call back, so I did.

I’m wondering if I meant right away.

Then you didn’t mean it — see?

Let’s say I did mean it. What’s new?

Well, now that you ask, I was thinking if you’d like to spend part of the weekend with me in the city.

Actually, I was planning on going to the beach to develop a slight case of sun poisoning. But now that you asked.

You serious?

No. I really am tied up this weekend, Biff. Honestly…Biff. What a strange name. That your real one?

Biff Junior’s my real name.

Is Biff Senior still with us, I hope?

And Biff Senior the first. You see, I’m the third. But my dad didn’t like to be called Junior, so he eliminated his. But when they had me, he liked the name so much that they named me Biff, also. Not Biff Also. Biff Junior.

It would seem if he was so devoted to individuality, he would have wanted you named Biff Also. Or Also Biff. Or Biff Biff. That would be the best one, I think.

I don’t. And I don’t like talking about my name.

You don’t? I forgot who first brought it up. Must have been me. Well, I’m sorry if it was.

Yes. So, anyway, you’re busy this weekend.

Tied up in knots, I’m afraid.

I’ll come and rescue you.

Touché , but no thanks.

Not to stay; just to cut the ropes.

Touché encore, mon Bift , but I’m sorry. I definitely can’t see you this weekend.

Not so much where we have to go out or anything. We could meet for coffee somewhere.

Sorry. I’ll explain some other time, but right now I can’t.

Someone there with you?

It’s not that. Or it might be. Whatever it is, I’m not saying. It’s none of your business, that’s why.

I think it is.

Think what the heck you want, but I’m not going to ask why, because it isn’t and you know it.

I thought you were interested in me, that’s why I said it.

I thought I was also, to a certain extent, but when you come on like this?

Like what?

Let’s see, where were we? Look, I have visions these conversations are only going to get worse for us. So sometimes it’s best to let them drop, wait a week or so, and then call back. Or I’ll call back. But right now, whatever there was forming between us, is being grounded.

Are you saying, with me?

You really didn’t think I meant you and I?

Yes, I have to admit that.

Then either the connection was bad again or you’re just plain stupid.

See you, honey.

He hangs up, opens a beer, takes two swigs. calls back. The receiver’s picked up but nobody answers.

I don’t know who should be sorry, me for hanging up like that or you for calling me stupid.

What I said was that either the connection was bad again or else you’re stupid. I didn’t call you stupid outright.

To me it still sounds as if you did.

Then the connection was bad again just now or you truly are stupid.

He hangs up, finishes the beer, calls back.

I’m being silly now, maybe even stupid, calling like this. But it must mean something.

Maybe that you like making an ass of yourself on the phone and I either like helping or hearing you make one of yourself. Or maybe you’re itching to know something more about me that you didn’t and you’re finding out because I’m doing nothing to hold it back. Or else you’re working for the Secret Service and you’re keeping me busy with your calls till they pound my door down and arrest me for something. Or maybe it means I’ve run out of reasons to explain all your calls and I really don’t want to talk to you anymore today, or I don’t know what. Why?