William Gaddis - A Folic Of His Own

— Better wait till he's back on his feet before he…

— Back on his feet my God he's on them all the time, marching around in one of Father's old suits growing a beard smoking cigars he calls himself the last civilized man, he's ready to come in and stage a reading of his play for some British director he's dug up and some outlandish notion of showing up in court tomorrow to testify on his appeal, I mean I said I'd been running a madhouse out there didn't I?

— But what, wait what appeal.

— His appeal Harry, this appeal he's got you to thank for getting your friend Sam to quit dragging his feet and run up his costs a little further, I mean has this little car adventure of yours completely destroyed your memory? All I find over there's an empty whisky bottle when I asked you if there's any food in the house didn't I?

— There's yes, I've sent out for Chinese there's some of that lemon chicken and some cold noodles but Oscar's appeal, you mean it's been filed?

— I just said it has didn't I? I mean you talk about language how everything's language it seems all that language does is drive us apart, I mean what did you think I meant.

— I don't know, I mean, what I mean is a matter of fact I haven't had a chance to talk to him, to Sam I mean, you mean the circuit court's already hearing oral arguments on Oscar's appeal?

— Well call him. Call Sam and ask him if you can't remember what you did ten minutes ago, is that all there is? this lemon chicken?

— There may still be some shrimp, that shrimp in black bean sauce but has Sam talked to him? to Oscar? he wants Oscar to come in and testify at the…

— Sam hasn't talked to anybody, Harry. Apparently somebody's talked to Sam and given him a good hard push, that's all I know and all I care to know. If you want the grim details I'm sure you can get them from your colleague in this self regulating conspiracy of yours. Are you going to go get some clothes on?

— Look Christina, just tell me what the hell's going on will you? What brought him out there anyhow.

— An immense grey limousine with a telephone and tinted windows, the kind Trish uses to épater the lower classes. They'd just been in court destroying some poor shoemaker and the miserable creature who's been emptying her mother's bedpans for forty years and thought it would be fun to come out and surprise us, I mean after all Harry you're the one who's getting the bonus for bringing in this wealthy client to get yourself made a senior partner aren't you?

— Look that's not the way it happened, you know it's not but the whole thing's highly irregular, him going out there to talk to Oscar while this appeal's pending it's just highly irregular.

— He didn't even know where he was going Harry, just some old school friend of hers he didn't know where he was till they turned in the drive but it didn't take him a moment, well old sport! Good to see you up and about, putting on a little weight? Never thought we'd have the chance to sit down and have a nice chat, that's a great play you've written, have a cigar while Oscar stands there in a complete muddle. His car's just been stolen, the lawyers he got off a matchbook cover have him suing himself as the accident victim and he's just written a speech about a Civil War battle for some bloodthirsty Hadassah audience lusting for slaughter in the Old Testament while your Mister Mudpye explains that his play is really about the war between blacks and Jews, never mind the lawsuit, all water under the bridge old boy, always annoying to lose one here, don't drink that stuff, we brought out a little Chateau something sweet enough to turn your stomach treating Lily like help while he stares down her blouse it was all perfectly revolting.

— Wouldn't worry about Lily, Christina. Lily can take care of herself. You'll see.

— Well we've taken her in because she thinks her husband's out to get her in this idiotic divorce while she moons around about reconciling with Daddy so he'll leave her all his money to spend on cosmetics and I do the cooking for both of them while the gentleman poet reads aloud from his play my God, it all seems like a thousand years ago. Trish completely besotted by him and Oscar lapping up his flattery like that loathsome dog of hers while he bustled around in a monogramed blazer she bought him at Sulka's calling her Trishy with his hand up her dress while he talked on the phone all the way into town he's so close to her money he can taste it, ingratiating himself with all of us so we'll give this revolting spectacle our blessing. He's already in there giving her daughter's trust officer a workout and you, you're not to worry, he and the firm are behind you while he shrugs off this appeal of Oscar's just a few legal technicalities, all in the family says Trish, when it's over we'll have a marvelous party the poor thing she thinks he hung the moon. He's so quick she says, telling us how he had to explain her mother's estate lawyers' own case to them before he destroyed it. He's so quick.

— Oh, he's quick. He's quick all right.

— What's that supposed to mean? She'd sunk back on the sofa, shoulders fallen and her knees fallen wide kicking off one shoe, then the other, the full pitcher on the floor between them, — the only one who seems to get anything done in this mess 'while the rest of you sit around and…

— Might mean sometimes he's a little too quick Christina, one of these men who has to show that he's smarter than you are even when nothing's at stake, what makes him a good lawyer but you get a feeling that he's got the answer ready before he hears the question, takes short cuts, doesn't look back, sets up the game himself as if he's the only player. He'd rather win than be right.

— That's what he's paid for isn't it? what all of you get paid for? what this whole insane business you're in is all about? If you stopped looking back and started taking a few shortcuts yourself you might manage to clean up this absurd case you're on and start living like a human being, I mean think about it Harry.

— You think I think about anything else?

— That's what I mean. If you stopped thinking so much about being right maybe you could get off this Episcopal merrygoround they've got you on, living on pills and drink while they drag expert witnesses on stress management into court for running old ladies off the road and we could both start living like human beings again, I mean I am your wife after all aren't I? Where are you going.

— Get some clothes on, I…

— Are you going to call Sam?

— Too late now to reach him, I'll try in the morning. Do you…

— Just a few legal technicalities, my God. Got a real strong case here, that's our friend Mister Basic, win or lose we'll take them in the higher court, we'll take them on appeal, it seems like a hundred years ago… sinking back into the cushions there, her legs slowly stretching out before her in a kind of languor rising to claim her voice with — the sun coming out over the pond while we sat there by the windows, play to the appeals court because that's where it's at he was so sure of himself, this marvelous energy just seething to break loose, this real appetite he had, his skin glistening in the sun and his hands, he had such masterful hands didn't he, as one of her own came up to scratch at her shoulder and slowly sink to ruminate at her breast, — do blacks have much hair do you think? on their bodies I mean?

— Frankly never thought about it, now…

— Waving that newspaper at me, piece in here on your hairy Ainu you were talking about, thought maybe you missed it? her hand fallen to stir the length of her thigh, — wouldn't have noticed it he said, he didn't remember you ever talking about your hairy…

— Look, do you want some of this lemon chicken now or…