Robert Coover - Origin of the Brunists

“Spayshit,” said Sal Ferrero solemnly. Castle guffawed. Sal got quieter and funnier the drunker he got.

“Tell him, above all, he’s not to wear any earth clothes, nothing, just a sheet, see, and then—”

“Sheetsie,” said Sal.

Robbins and Castle were laughing themselves sick. Old Burt could hardly talk. He was a lot nicer guy tonight. Maybe it just took awhile to get to know him. “And then you lead him right down to Main Street, and when you get him to city hall, you—”

“Shittyall,” said Sal.

“Jesus Christ!” howled the sheet that had old Georgie in it. “Sal, you’re a goddamn riot!”

“Riot!” affirmed Sal, and everybody broke up again.

Robbins hissed. “It’s right there, next house! Now remember: when you get him in front of city hall, you—”

“We pull off his sheet,” said Vince. Sure goddamn hard to breathe in this thing.

“You’ve got it!”

“Jesus, Vince!” cried the tall thin sheet with the silly-ass nasal voice. “You’ve got it!”

“But why ain’t you two guys wearing sheets?”

“Hell, he’d recognize our voices in a minute, Vince, spoil the gag. Look, see that hedge just over there? Me and Maury’ll wait behind that, watch how it goes. If you need us, we’ll be there. Now, go to it!”

The four sheets approached old Ralphie’s house.

“Damn, Sal, at least stand up right!”

“Riot!”

“Okay,” announced old Cheese, “watch this!” He picked up a handful of pebbles and flung them at a window. Himebaugh’s face appeared in it. “Light the torch!” Georgie struck a match to the torch, then lifted it flaming over his head. Old Ralphie’s eyes nearly shot right out of their sockets. Johnson lifted his elbows, shook the sheet. The others imitated him. Himebaugh opened the door a crack, poked out his terrified white face. “Oh earthling Ralphus! We are spirits from the upper worlds come to transport thee hither!” Except for the twang, it was a great fucking act. Himebaugh stepped gingerly out onto the porch, dressed in one of those funny Brunist nightshirts. “Our spaceship awaits thee!”

Vince’s line: “Come, friend! Makest thee haste!” Christ! stumbled all over the goddamn s - t 's! “The Destroyer cometh!”

“B-but tonight?” whined the old guy. He was cracking all apart. Very different pose from what Vince had seen yesterday. “We thought — isn’t it—?”

“Well, our plans is got changed,” said old Cheese, ad-libbing it. “Now git your ass in gear, Ralphus!”

Himebaugh stiffened, eyebrows slid down off the top of his head. “I don’t know who you are,” he sighed, “but you’re wasting your time.”

“Tie ’em!” cried Sal. Georgie snickered. Vince had to piss.

“Listen, ifn you don’t git comin’,” hollered Johnson, sliding all the way back into his cruddy accent, “we’re gonna shag off without ye!”

Himebaugh shook his head wearily, went in, shut the door. Could hear the key working in the lock.

“Jeez, Cheese, it’s that goddamn hillbilly accent of yours,” Vince complained. “There ain’t no hillbillies in the other world, don’t you know that?”

“Whaddaya think we oughta do, bust in an’ git him?”

“Naw, what good would that do? Let’s go ask old Burt and old Maury.” Vince led the way to the hedge. Nobody there. “Why those goddamn sonsabitches!”

“Fairweather friends,” said Cheese.

“Left us in the fucking lurch,” said Georgie.

“But all is not lost!” announced old Sal, lifting off his sheet and producing a fifth of bourbon. “I borrowed this from good old faithful Maury’s liquor cabinet.”

“Hey! Good man, Salvo!” laughed Johnson, whipping off his sheet. “Uncork that mother!”

“Three cheers for old Sal Ferrero!” proposed Georgie, and they all hip-hip-hoorayed while pissing on a tree. Then the four of them sat down on their sheets behind the hedge and passed the bottle. “Well, what’ll we do next?” asked Georgie.

“Let’s go visit old Wosznik and spook his mutt,” suggested Johnson.

“We can burn down a couple houses,” Georgie offered. “Vince has got a hand we can use.” The bastard.

“Let’s go hang a buncha rubbers in the little tree on Cunt Hill,” Johnson said.

“Where’s that?” Vince asked.

“That rise out by old Number Nine—”

“Mount of Redemption,” said Sal.

“I never heard it called that,” Vince said. “When did it—?”

“Tiger Miller’s old buddy Lou Jones made it up.”

“What’s the point?”

“What’s the point of any cunt?” asked Georgie, and they all laughed idiotically at that.

Vince chugalugged on the fifth, got what he supposed was more or less his quarter, then handed it to Georgie. “Think I’ll bug out, fellow phantoms. Go get me some shuteye.” Thrust himself to his feet, staggered away. Fact was, he’d been thinking all night about poor Wanda Cravens. She never knew why he never came back. Poor kid. Shouldn’t have been that way. Man can cut out without being crude. Go tell her now. Wanda honey, I’m being a good boy now. Gonna be mayor, see, can’t fuck it up. You understand, hunh? Good girl. Lotta fun, but. Meant to tell you before, but I been busy — oh yes, very very busy. Too bad. Awful sorry. You know I am. Listen, though. You’re a cute kid. I’ll keep my eye out for you, know what I mean? Anything you ever need. Count on me.

Yeah, this was the place okay. Stumbled up on the porch, thumped the door, then staggered on in. Whoo-ee! shouldn’t have chugalugged. House dead still. All the junk gone. Jesus, maybe she’d moved. Light on in the bedroom. She was just grabbing up her ragtag robe when he reeled in. In her skivvies, snow-white, but her cute titties were flying free.

“Oh, Vince! Landsakes, you give me a fright! I was takin’ a bath. Didn’t know who it could be out there bumpin’ around.”

“Who else ’d it be?”

“Well, I jist didn’t know, I thought maybe, you know, day after tomorra bein’ the end a the world and all, I jist thought—”

“Oh yeah. That.” Vince thought of old Ralphie and grinned. Lights all funny in the damn room somehow. He blew out his cheeks. “Hey, listen, Wanda, I didn’t mean to butt in or nothing, I just only came to tell you—”

“Vince, I never knowed you to drink so much.”

Must really be swaying. “Well, I ain’t accustomed to it.” Couldn’t quite see if she was all covered up with the robe or not.

“Vince, I’m sorry, but I have to ask ye to go. It’s all over now, what we was—”

“All over!”

“Yes, for some time now. I thought you knowed or guessed. I been comin’ to the light, Vince. And I gotta have my soul all clean for the end. I’ve sold all I had and give all the money away, and I ain’t gonna do nothin’ sinful. Leastways with the powers of—”

“Wanda! You ain’t saying you’re turning me out!”

“Vince, I gotta! It ain’t what I want or don’t want, things is different now. Jist one more day, Vince—”

“Wanda! How can you do it? I — you just—” He felt all knotted up. And she was so calm, so cold. Had she forgot how it was between them? “Please, I—”

“Vince, it was a mistake. I was lonely and you was nice to me, but we cain’t go makin’ that mistake all over agin.”

“Mistake!” Jesus, she was cutting him something awful!

“Now stop it, Vince! You’re drunk. Let’s be honest, I was a good thing for you, somethin’ for fun on the side, but—”

“Wanda!” He slumped to the bed by where she was standing, felt like bawling, took her hand. She didn’t understand, everything was wrong, he felt awful. “Wanda, Wanda, I love you! Couldn’t you tell that? You don’t know how you’re hurting me!”