William Gaddis - A Folic Of His Own

— No listen Christina, try to…

— Did they call here? did they call me? I'm his wife aren't I? They got his age right at least, Mister Lutz was born in Chicago where his father, an early innovator in the textile industry cutthroat operator would be more like it, went on to make a fortune in the home furnishing business where he expected his son to follow and where did they dig this up, conduct resulting in his dismissal from a series of Ivy League colleges and a brush with divinity school combined with his consuming interest in poetry, which his father condemned as an unprofitable vocation for 'sissies,' led to an irreparable breach between them which never my God, I mean he never told me that's what they fought over you can leave that Lily, I'll clean it up later.

— Sit still. Just move your foot.

— his interest in the law inspired by a growing sense of injustice which he later ascribed to his reading of Dickens, whom he had taken up with a view to becoming a novelist if you can imagine that, Harry a novelist?

— There's nothing strange about that Christina, every young…

— Move your foot, Oscar.

— after working his way through law school and serving with a number of small public interest law firms became increasingly disillusioned with the law as an instrument of justice and this is more like him, yes, to regard it as a vehicle for imposing order on the unruly universe depicted by Dickens that's more like Harry isn't it, what he saw all around him, initiating his rapid climb in the complex field of corporate law where his talent for…

— No but wait Christina, all this part about working his way through law school and his father's…

— And while you're out there Lily would you mind bringing me another cup I'll try to be more careful, to his recent appointment as the youngest senior partner in the century old history of the blue ribbon firm Swyne and here comes Bill Peyton of course, a little commercial for the firm like that carnival barker breaking in with his cure for acid stomach, where managing partner William T B Peyton labeled his recent successful efforts in resolving the legal battles between the Pepsi-Cola interests and the Episcopal Church of America, which have run into the tens of millions of dollars over a decade, as the most brilliant bringing to bear of fundamental constitutional issues in the age old conflict between free enterprise America and the pills, the whisky, runins with the firm's psychiatrist and a car accident thrown in he doesn't mention all that does he? just what they got off his resume and a nice sales pitch for that blue ribbon conspiracy of thieves?

— No but they got everything else wrong didn't they, about that irreparable breach with his father and working his way through…

— Divinity school no, no he actually told me once he'd gone through a phase looking for easy answers survived by his wife, Christina; two vultures, Eleanor Lutz of New Rochelle and Marian…

— Christina listen, it's not…

— All right, sisters! Eleanor Lutz of New Rochelle and Marian Ragow of Cleveland, Ohio; and his father, Stanley Lutz of Lake Forest, Illinois asking me to see Harry's will as though he'd left them a dime with that simpering Norrie asking if I planned to keep the penthouse while Masha sniffs around hinting my taste for luxury drove him to…

— Christina listen! Survived by his father they've got it all wrong, his father's been dead for years he died when Harry was still in law school, he…

— That's ridiculous, what in God's name makes you think that.

— He told me, Harry told me the last time we talked, we were talking about fathers and sons disappointing each other and he told me about his father's debt and bankruptcies breaking his neck to put him through law school afraid of disappointing him if he failed and he didn't live to see him graduate, his father never saw him make partner and he still felt like he'd let him down, he…

— You must have misunderstood him Oscar, I mean my God they've been estranged for years, his father lives like a king out there he's never made less than a million a year and when we got married those two vultures moved right in like a, talk about Regan and Goneril poisoning the old man so they'd split the inheritance two ways instead of three sucking up to him with me as the snake in the garden I told you didn't I? that she's mean as a snake, Masha? talk about a forked tongue asking me if Harry and I were having problems and talking to Bill Peyton as though we were on our way to the divorce court I know she did, trying to turn this whole business of his cremation into a cheap murder mystery simply because she wasn't told? because I went ahead with it without consulting them I'm the next of kin aren't I? what, what God damn business was it of theirs!

— But why didn't you…

— Because it's what he wanted! because there was some mixup everything was jumbled and confused and they called me about the, his wife as next of kin about the disposal of, about what to do with the remains I didn't know they'd be so quick about it was what he wanted you heard him, didn't you? A clean getaway right here talking about Father? standing right here strip away the poetry and off to the crematory when the time comes I hope you'll do the same for me when the, the time came! No, no the thought of him being drained and laid out dressed up like some kind of a, lying there alone with his eyes closed and those two vultures hovering over him a week later, a month later the skin falling away from his…

— Christina please, you're only making it…

— that, that marvelous face and the, the empty eye sockets staring out at, my God I'm his, I was his wife wasn't I?

— Christina don't, sit down what are you doing! but she was already up with the phone, blowing her nose hard.

— If they think they're going to bring some kind of lawsuit over it because that's what they talked about, that snake Masha I know that's what she talked to him about and, hello? clearing her throat again sharply — Mister Peyton please, this is… hello? away from his desk well where is he? This is Christina Lutz, I… leave my number he's got my number, tell him to… He knows damn well what it's in reference to! Tell him to call me! and she stood there holding the phone tipped like an emptied cup, staring out over the pond.

— But he, why would he have told me all that Christina why did he, why would he have lied to me?

She stood staring out over the pond for moments longer before she turned to him sitting there, his shoulders fallen, the watch closed tight in his hands. — I think, I think he was just trying to help, Oscar. He was, Harry was awfully fond of you, you knew that didn't you? she said coming over to him, resting a hand on his fallen shoulder — trying to help you through a bad time that was all, he meant it for your own good he knew what you were going through, I think he admired you, that he really admired what you'd tried to do because he'd tried it himself that's what he used to say, about failing at something worth doing because there was nothing worse for a man than failing at something that wasn't worth doing in the first place simply because that's where the money was, it was always the money…

— Christina? You ought to drink that and go up and get some sleep, and Oscar? looking at them both the way she'd looked at those cars on the highway, in the rearview mirror, listening the way she'd listened to those siren howls without blinking an eye — why don't you go in and lay down while I air out the bathroom and the library I'll be back later, I'm going down and get this x-ray over with, all right? the same detached calm hardening her voice later over the flaming pyre of vehicles on the evening news, over the blazing picture in the next morning's paper before he could shape the catch in his throat into words — just don't say it, Oscar.