William Gaddis - J R

— No here he comes, I think we’re leaving, Mister Vogel? We’re over here. But where did you…

— Found one of the lost tribes camped out in the gents’.

— But where did you come from? she said bent down to the figure being weighed toward her by his shifting armload and the hand heavy on each shoulder.

— Me?

— Yes what on earth are you doing here?

— I’m on this here field trip.

— But you’re, this is an eighth grade trip and you’re not even… she straightened away from the trespass in the gaze fixed fallen over the boy’s head. — You’ve been with us all this time?

— Sure I was in the back of the bus, didn’t you see me? See I got this here special permission off Mrs diCephalis when I first heard about it, you know?

— No I don’t, what did you…

— See because like I’m real interested in art and all.

— You?

— Well like in all that Egyptian stuff and, you know, like these here broken statues and all. You know?

— I certainly didn’t, but I’m glad to hear it. And please find a handkerchief. Mister Vogel I’m awfully sorry but I have to leave, I really hadn’t counted on doing this today and something’s just come up…

— No I didn’t either, I thought I was taking them to the basketball game.

— Yes I’m afraid some of them did too but these mixups happen, and I’m sure no one will blame you, now how many were we. Three, four, boys over this way… They surged for the doors, — I’ll help you get them down to the bus and then if I can find a telephone, it’s a sort of family problem that I simply must, seven, eight, let’s all use the same door so we can keep, eleven, twelve, try to keep a line going down the steps, there’s a wind isn’t there… she excused the hand brushed behind her, and stepped away from it, — I hope you understand Mister Vogel and I’m sure you can explain things… She stepped away again but now it followed, lingered down the crevice. — I, I’m sure you can explain… she said, half a turn to him.

— I could feel its whiteness.

— I, pardon?

— I could feel its whiteness, underneath. I hoped you wouldn’t mind.

— Well I, I have to hurry, I…

— But just, Niadu Airgetlam Mrs Joubert, have you heard of him? Niadu of the Silver Hand?

— No I’m afraid I…

— Or Nodens, under the name Nodens?

— No I’m afraid not I…

— Or of the Fisher King? the Fisher King?

— No I can’t say that I, I think you’d better see to the children…

— It’s not that they don’t notice, at first they stare and then it’s just another fact, disfigurement is just a fact in the wasteland kids live in.

— Yes well I, I must hurry, I…

— Let me once, just, let me reach…

— Mister… Vogel please I…

— Just once…

— Mister… Vogel please you, you must see to the children… she got a step back toward the doors straightening her collar, — they’re waiting down there for you…

Down there the bus roared.

— Come on quit pushing…

— Hey Mister Vogel…?

— I know you can explain things to Mrs diCephalis when you get back out there, do be careful… It roared. The door clattered. — She may even have enjoyed the basketball…

And the cargo heaved, shifted, through lights, blocking intersections, — I’m sure no one will blame you… The bus wallowed through traffic, seethed through the tunnel where light caught his lips moving in the glass, — I know you can explain things… Lights passing in both directions, — She may even have enjoyed the basketball… He licked his lips. — Just once… the seats bounced, lights from both directions, — you can explain things… Lights, minutes, the hand on the illuminated dial pointing 50, 40, 55, the hand — She may even have enjoyed the basketball… the hand retreating at last, dropped to 20, 5, the cargo shifted, heaved, cheered from behind, — just another fact… mounted a curb crushing leaves, candy wrappers, — they’re waiting for you down there… And the lights came on, caught his lips again, the door clattered, — down there waiting for you… and he came through the still clash of headlights. — Just get back? crushing leaves, — enjoy the basketball?

— Enjoy the basketball! Are you…

— No way of knowing one bus from the other was there.

— Enjoy the basketball, my God! What are you talking about, one bus from the other.

— Never mind. I was afraid you’d understand.

— Afraid I’d, Vogel you’re crazy you know that? You’re crazy.

— Daisies won’t tell.

— Vogel you… wait, you’re not going to leave me to sort these kids out, come back here! I’m the one that’s leaving. All of you give your permission slips to Mister Vogel, she got back over a shoulder and then, past post and rail treated to appear old and frilled ironwork made of aluminum to appear new, wagon wheels at threatening angles and post lights bright in bilious greeting, — Daisies won’t tell, my God… up past the cast iron stove still stranded short of the door, — enjoy the basketball! and the door closed like a shot.

Foyer, hall, bathroom, foyer, snap, snap, snap, she started the round of turning on lights. — Nora? Donny? My God it’s like a morgue in here… and she rounded the corner where light now alerted the residents of the room divider in erect silhouette against the flaccid shadows beyond. — My God. What are you doing home.

— I thought you knew they were going to release me from the hospital today, I looked for you there and then I remembered…

— Released you, they thought you were a lion? So where did you think I was, dancing on the Starlight Roof?

— No I remembered this was the day you planned the trip to the Metropolitan Art…

— So you thought I was finally getting a chance to commute with the arts, do you think they didn’t sabotage that too? I spend a month planning something cultural and you think they didn’t grab it? Miss Moneybags and that crazy Vogel pretending he didn’t know one bus from the other, you think he went there for the art? The way she waves them in his face looking down her front like all the rest of you, with that face he’s got like Custer’s Last Stand you think he wasn’t grabbing one in the back of the bus while I’m watching a lot of smelly men play basketball?

— Basketball?

— That’s right you start it too, ask me did I enjoy the basketball. Daisies won’t tell, my God you’re all crazy. How long are you going around in that getup?

— The doctor thinks I should keep this arm in a sling until he thinks I’m strong enough to…

— The day he thinks you’re strong enough to remind me I’m still a woman tell him to send me a telegram, what about your friend.

— Friend? Who…

— Friend, that’s right, just repeat what I say, don’t you know what a figure of speech is? Did you think I thought you had any friends? I mean that bonehead on the school board who hides in that underground toilet he’s got in his back yard and calls himself a major you didn’t manage to kill, anybody that rides with you they should give them Purple Hearts.

— He’s still in the hospital, he…

— He’ll stay there if he knows what’s good for him. That dope fiend Buzzie you killed in the accident his whole black family is getting him a surprise party ready in court.

— Hyde? they’re suing Mister Hyde? Because I thought they’d sue us but…

— Us? What do you mean sue us.

— No me I meant, me.

— Don’t worry, they’re suing you too. Now what are you looking for.

— I thought some mail might have come while I was in the hospital, I’ve been waiting to hear from…

— The mail should stop because you’re in the hospital? Three weeks I’ve been waiting to hear from that Foundation. Did Dad eat yet?