William Gaddis - A Folic Of His Own

— Harry, could you…

— No.

— But you haven't even…

— I said no Christina. Don't get me into it. Better watch out yourself too when she says she may need you.

— She just means my moral sup…

— If she's going to court she needs a witness. You were with her?

— At the clinic? I had to go with her Harry, I mean you never know what's going to happen at a place like that and of course it did, this nicely dressed young man in rimless glasses suddenly stepping up and throwing catsup on her fur coat, something about spilling innocent blood God knows what he was, animal rights or rights to life it was quite unnerving.

— Probably both, and the gun lobby thrown in. You mean she had the abortion.

— That's why she's terrified of going to prison, you heard her. This frightful boy demanding his paternal rights as though she were some sort of brood sow, she'd literally found him on the street picking up cigarette butts and pulling newspapers out of trashcans so she invited him to dinner and the police called just as they were sitting down. He'd stolen a book in a bookstore to bring her as a gift, some science fiction nonsense about people living under water, he kept telling them it was his book, he meant he'd written it there was his name on the cover but the price of books is so appalling these days he obviously couldn't afford it but of course they couldn't see it that way till she went down there herself and ordered fifty copies to calm them down. Now he's ready to send her to prison for murdering his child. His child!

— Nobody's going to send her to prison, certainly make the world safer for democracy if they did but she'll probably just be cited for contempt and fined, a good healthy one if she shows up in those diamonds. What was she doing at a public clinic?

— She could hardly go to her own hospital, I mean not while she's suing them could she?

— You mean she's got one set of lawyers bringing this suit for foetal endangerment and another set to defend her abortion. No wonder they talk to each other.

— I suppose that's exactly why she has two sets, I mean this way she probably counts on winning one or the other after the lesson she learned losing that dreadful custody battle over T J, she's still livid about it.

— But she won didn't she? Doesn't the boy live with her?

— That was the problem Harry. Neither of them wanted him. Of course the father paid through the nose for support and a trust fund, one of these quart a day louts in ostrich skin boots who owned most of downtown Lubbock till somebody shot him and she had to take his estate to court against six other paternity suits for a settlement, I mean that's hardly the case this time. God knows what this miserable boy thought he was up to, he's really not quite bright if you take a look at his book.

— Maybe just bright enough to figure if he got her pregnant she'd marry him, the inevitable divorce comes along and he ends up with the child and collects a bundle for its support. Like T J in reverse.

— Well you see you could help if you wanted to Harry, think about it. I mean of course he was planning something like that, he…

— Probably the only way he could get it up, if you marry money you're going to earn every penny and some kid fishing newspapers out of trash-cans who…

— She said he explained that. He told her he was doing market research for some ad agency on what page people reached in the paper when they threw it away and how far down they smoked these different brands of cigarettes it all sounded rather bogus, she's been buying him the most lavish gifts like a twelve hundred dollar robe from Sulka's he tried to return for cash but they told him they'd be glad to credit it to her account so of course he kept it while apparently he's been going around complaining that whenever there's a ten dollar cab fare or she needs a lipstick she says all she's got are hundreds and he has to take care of it, if you call that gratitude, she no, don't answer it… motionless for the grating echo of her own voice, the beep and then, harsh and peremptory — Christina. I'd like you to call me.

— That was quick.

— I think he's terrified I'll pick it up and it will all go on his long distance bill instead of ours, he managed to steer that thing into the kitchen out there and saw that Ilse was throwing these five cent deposit soda bottles he has with his Pinot Grigio into the trash and made a dreadful scene, will you hand me those nail scissors? God knows what he expects to do about those hospital bills and how much he owes Mister Basic by this time, you'd think he'd already won the case from that grandiose interview in the paper and his, there's some cotton right there could you, no by your elbow, could you hand it to me? I mean with that headline JUSTICE'S GRANDSON SEEKS JUSTICE obviously that's what set Father off, pulling skeletons out of closets when they found they could manufacture a good story setting the father against the son my God, as though things hadn't been bad enough between them long before this revolting movie came along and all this nonsense about madness in the family, you can't blame him.

— Ever occur to you that he might be?

— Oscar? Mad?

— The Judge.

— Because he loses his temper? My God Harry they're just a lot of, it's just nastiness they'll say anything just to…

— No look, look. How much of it is just plain sloppiness, you see it every day. Read something in the Times if you were there yourself you saw something entirely different, look at me quoted on Royal Crown, Roman Catholic, R C Cola and Classic Coke, New Coke, Coke II and Vatican II, these Episcopals and the Pepsi Generation they take a case like mine in the hundreds of millions and label it Pop and Glow, pop for the drink and glow for the church, turn it into a circus because that's what newspapers are now, entertainment. No malice just freedom of the press, take the Spot logo or your cleancut young man with the catsup bottle it's all freedom of speech, prying into your father's private life? But you don't feed the fire, you don't lose your temper and hand them a headline like this last one. DAMN THE PUBLIC'S RIGHT TO KNOW, SAYS JUDGE. Not the way to get seated on the higher court and if he's been telling Oscar what the…

— Well my God Harry he hasn't been telling Oscar anything, I mean they don't even speak. Oscar tries to dig things out of that doddering old law clerk of his down there who's numb with drink most of the time because Father insists on doing everything himself and now of course that picture of the house they had in the paper, a rundown country mansion in an exclusive Long Island enclave they captioned it sagging veranda and all, one look at that and Oscar's panicked that Father will get on us again to sell it.

— Why he did it in the first place, nobody ever won an interview Christina the minute you let them in the door they…

— He didn't let them in, he asked them in Harry that's the point. It was his own ridiculous idea, he saw his name mentioned in the paper and thought he'd better set the record straight as he put it, make sure the whole world knows he's only seeking justice and then of course he got carried away and probably wrecked the whole thing.

— A little late even if he wanted to, nothing to do now but sit tight waiting for the ruling on summary judgment and pray you get the right judge. I got a look at our man on the case, real red brick university product all English tailoring really full of himself, Swyne & Dour's token ethnic they came up with when they got a look at Mister Basic.

— Well I mean it's Mister Basic who's got Oscar so carried away, I hope to God he's as smart as you say.

— No he's smart Christina, the way I hear he handled that deposition he's smart, even imagine them bringing him into the firm to dress up its image with a few more minorities before some loose cannon conies up with an antidiscrimin…