William Gaddis - A Folic Of His Own

— Oscar for the love of God! Will you stop talking about suing people? can't you see where it's already got you? Where's, Lily where are you going.

— I'm making you some tea.

— I think I want a drink, I…

— I said I'm making you some hot tea didn't I? and she was gone.

— Look at it this way Oscar. Talk about your Senator Bilk turning things into a tent show the old Judge was way ahead of you, exactly what he knew could happen that's probably why he put in that stipulation, have to give him credit don't you? Big state funeral you talked about you might even get a Justice from the High Court but you'd get Bilk and the rest of the political trash with the media in there exercising their First Amendment rights to turn it into a public spectacle with a few rocks and beer cans from their file tapes thrown in for entertainment value because that's what their business is, it's not news it's entertainment. That's just what we were talking about earlier isn't it? what your movie lawsuit's all about? what this whole country's really all about? tens of millions out there with their candy and beer cans and this inexhaustible appetite for being entertained? Anything they can get their hands on, talk about bread and circuses that's…

— All right Harry please, that's enough now please. That's enough.

— All right Christina but, Harry listen, naming this law clerk his executor he's not even part of the family, he drinks and…

— Name anybody he wanted to Oscar, anybody he'd trust to carry out the provisions of his will exactly as he wrote it, take it through probate and…

— He trusted him all right, Father trusted him but what about us, we don't even know him he drinks and…

— One place the law's absolutely clear, catch an executor pulling any fast ones he's in a hell of a lot of trouble and if anybody knows that your law clerk does.

— Well but, and do we have to pay him?

— Estate pays him, don't know the laws down there could be up to three percent unless he elects to waive it or…

— Oh Lily thank God here, just put the cup here, Oscar? will you just let all this rest for a while? It's a simple estate it's a perfectly simple will, we're the joint beneficiaries we always took that for granted didn't we? And I mean you of all people, the way you've felt about Father talking about him standing by you and all the rest of it shouldn't you be the very first one to respect his wishes? let him go like he wanted to instead of some Viking funeral and God knows what else?

— I didn't mean that Christina, a Viking funeral I just thought, he could have made me his executor couldn't he? if he trusted this law clerk down there with a drink in his hand more than he…

— Well my God you drink don't you? will you look at that bottle beside you that was full a few minutes ago?

— Yes all right but, but he could have named Harry couldn't he? Harry's a lawyer, that three percent to keep that three percent in the family couldn't he?

— No wait Christinia, look Oscar. You've got somebody down there who knows the courts, knows the State laws can get the will through probate with drinks in both hands, an estate as simple as this one a few legal papers he can clean the whole thing up without a lot of…

— Yes but how do you know, you both keep saying it's a simple estate how do you know it is, maybe there are things we don't even…

— Don't worry about it, I asked him to send up a copy of the will and…

— You mean you've talked to him?

— We've both talked to him Oscar. Harry called him first thing and I talked to him later, he's bringing some papers up here and Father's personal effects that's about all there is, now…

— But why didn't you tell me!

— They just told you didn't they? I mean honest you're going to drive everybody crazy like this Oscar, how she's been tiptoeing around all day trying not to upset you, you okay Christina? You want to go in and lay down before the movie?

— Oh my God, that!

— No wait it's almost time! Turn it on it's right after the news, I have to go to the bathroom turn it on! as he heaved up and away, leaving them to the vision of a lady in impeccable lingerie stirred by a gentle breeze over phantom breasts smiling serenely on an unruffled landscape of a country morning after a satisfactory bout with an overnight laxative, all of them ensconced in varied degrees of discomfort by the time he reappeared to recover the sanctuary of the sofa where he came down unsteadily aping the writhings of the middleaging arthritic on the screen enduring languorous massage with a heat penetrating unguent and a Florida backdrop Kissing Pain Goodbye when suddenly the room shook with the sound of cannon fire, the screen with a tumult of plunging horses, flaring rockets and the Stars and Bars and men, men — look! as

The Blood in the Red White and Blue

unfurled before them, going up in flames for the stark parade of names sprung from briefs, dockets, decrees, each more hateful than the last till finally the smoke cleared, the music died and now the room echoed with the clop clop of a horse and carriage seen approaching up a drive adroop with Spanish moss from the pillared veranda of an antebellum mansion by an imposing liveried black — there he is! that's that, that Button that friend of Basic's, his brow arching disdainfully as a decrepit horse and buggy bearing an aging woman and a handsome intense young man standing to snap his whip imperiously came close for an exchange of unheard words to be pointed scornfully on their way, glimpsed from behind a curtain by a ravishingly beautiful young woman in negligee — there she is! he hissed after their retreat back down the drive, pulling up before a small farm house badly in need of repair as a musical melange of sombre chords appropriated from the alcoholic ramblings of Stephen Foster seeped in to set the tone for a long montage of hammering, wood splitting and split rail fencing, the decrepit horse yielding the buggy's traces for the plough under a blistering sun rows of tobacco leaves, stands of corn, rivulets of sweat connoting manlydom on white skin and servitude on the black knelt by lamplight at the old woman's knee tracing the Beatitudes of Matthew 5 with a black finger on the white page escorted by the pirated strains of a gospel hymn yet to be written and, nearer to hand from the sofa gasps of recognition and wheezes of impatience rising on the wings of the gamebird smashed by the burst of a shotgun to scurry frantically through the brown grasses fleeing for the crevice of a stone wall from what was happening, the clatter of hooves, the crash of underbrush, Hunting Musique! With Horns and with Hounds I waken the Day And hye to my Woodland walks away, tempestuously bosomed, flaming hair'd, where Mars destroys and I repair, Take me, take me, while you may, Venus comes not ev'ry Day, three million dollars worth of stardom buskin'd in finest calf, twilled thighs spread wide astride the pawing stallion looming over him he rais'd a mortal to the skies; She drew an angel down undoing the front of his overalls, Flush'd with a purple grace he shows his honest face mingling the sweating badges of his low estate with perspiration born of highborn sport beading her open breasts. Now gives the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes provoking here a giggle, there a gasp of outrage at — this clumsy, vulgar, did you see it! That scene I wrote in all its classic simplicity turned into trash dragged through the mud in the most vulgar clumsy, the whole thing right from the start, my whole prologue they used the dialogue for their scenario right from the start, did you see it Harry?

— What? clearing his throat, recovering his gaze from the salt swells of the carelessly buttoned feast nearby no more attainable than those his eyes had strayed from on the screen at the sound of that giggle, — oh. Satire Oscar, they're just satirizing the whole genre don't you think? the plaintive tones of the oboe given way to a vocal frenzy heralding a long forgotten movie star gnashing gleaming dentures at her small audience confiding how she kept them in place.