William Gaddis - J R

— No I’m, I was just going to say when I was working on an opera… he turned to get a knee on H-O, reach up to 12–38 Oz Btls Won’t Burn, Smoke or Smell, — the problem was I didn’t have a very clear picture of the libretto I didn’t really have a libretto… he opened the manila folder, — and so when I…

She stared at it. — Like that’s an opera?

— No well this is, I’m working on this cantata now and, do you read music?

— Like read that?

— Yes it’s still very rough but…

— Man like nobody could read that, I mean like that’s supposed to mean something right there?

— Yes well this is, you see these are the strings that come in behind the soprano and… pages turned — here, the woodwinds come in here behind the tenor and then when the brass…

— Like you said a what?

— The brass, it comes in behind the…

— No like what did you call it?

— Oh a cantata yes that’s, it’s a choral work voices and a large chorus with an orchestra, it’s a sort of dramatic arrangement of a musical idea that…

— I mean it’s all this messy?

— Yes well this is just the, it’s like a sketch a painter does before he starts painting, to work out the form and structure so every note and measure will…

— So like you never heard this, right? I mean how do you know what it even sounds like.

— You don’t yes that’s one of the, you don’t really know till you hear it performed that’s one of the…

— Man like you really better talk to Al some time he can really, what was that…! she was over Moody’s past him, parting the blind — oh wow, I mean like three, five of them, like these five Porto Ricans down there pushing this car across the street this bus almost wiped them out.

— I’ve seen them before yes I don’t think the car runs at all, they have to push it back and forth for the alternate side of the street parking it’s kind of their clubhouse, they sit in it with a portable radio and…

— Man like I don’t care if it’s their fucking clubhouse I mean who wants to walk past it down there in the dark, man.

— Well you, you can stay here if you…

— Like where, in the sink?

— No I meant right, right there you can sleep right there…

— Here? So where are you supposed to be on the bottom or on top I mean look man, I didn’t sleep any last night I’m really beat I mean if you think you’re going to grab a handful of…

— No no I just meant, I mean you can sleep there I won’t even, I have to stay up and work anyhow if the light won’t bother you…

— What, on your cantata?

— Well not, no not yet I’m working on a long piece of music somebody wants for a film, the one those slides are for, you see once I get paid for that finished music up there I can get this done and have enough money to…

— Man like I just don’t want to walk past that clubhouse down there that’s all, like I mean I even hate to go down to this cold can in the hall here…

— I know yes it’s, be careful of the door…

When she came back the blanket was clear, mail stacked on H-O and the diploma protruding from the volume of the Musical Courier for 1903, Moody’s wiped in a stack with Thomas Register of American Manufacturers under the front blind and Hoppin’ With Flavor! drawn up to it. — Like you’re going to work right there?

— Well yes if the light won’t bother you, I have to have it right over me because…

— I mean this place is really dirty you know? she brought one foot up, the other, pulling off the moccasins. — Like I don’t want to get my feet black… and she stood on the blanket to zip down the denims, a shoulder against the wall as she bent to pull them off leaving nothing behind, pausing up there opposite 2-Ply Facial Tissue Yellow — like wasn’t that picture over in the other place?

— Yes it… he coughed staring up, — I, I think Mister…

— Like see those are these kind of little bubs they want you for modeling you know? And like where you can see her ass in the mirror with those like dimples like that chick in the back but like look at her belly, I mean it’s this real pot, like I mean mine’s real flat compared to that… she drew breath parting the shirt — but like see…? she flexed closer reaching below for — this like bulge here? how it… listen!

The knock sounded again harder, the voice fainter behind it, — Hello Mister…?

— But like who…

— No it’s just, it’s just an old man who…

— What like Grynszpan? I mean how do you…

— No no it’s just, wait he’ll go away…

— Hello Mister?

— Beat it, she called out.

— Hello Missus…?

— I mean… she was down at a bound toward the door, — I said beat it, screw…

— My vife Missus, could I…

— Just fuck off okay? she pushed the door hard and came back, paused against 24-One Pint Mazola New Improved to raise a foot behind and look back down at it — I mean now look at my feet, she came on to the sofa to cross ankle on knee, looking.

— Yes I… he cleared his throat, looking.

— Like man this isn’t dirt it’s like just black… and her knees came up and met with a pull at the blanket, Forest Industries to the floor and her face to the crevice where back joined seat, silent until — listen…! Her head came up without turning, — like I hear somebody talking, listen…

— information on adopting a foster child, call the special dial a child number at Plaza five…

— No that’s just, there’s a radio somewhere over under all those books, I can’t find it to turn it off and…

She came up sharp on an elbow. — Like you’re staying up?

— Well yes I, as long as I can work on…

— Because like watch that sink in there man… her head went back down, — I mean if that happens again we might both wake up drownded and nobody would ever know it okay?

— Yes o, okay… and he drew a hand over his face and went back to the page, another, cleared his throat muffled.

— Bast?

He started. — Yes I, I…

— I mean like can you move that light? she said into the crevice — so it’s not like shining right on me?

Once, twice nearing the bottom of a page he looked back to see a whole bar missing, stopped a hand raised to crumple it and stared at the slow rise and fall on the sofa, standing to slide a foot silently toward the kitchen and past the rush of water over the bank of paper to Appletons’ to stare under the shade into darkness and as silently back, standing over the sofa licking his own lip against a mucous whisper in the crevice bending, once as though to loosen his belt and then as abruptly standing away to blow off a clean scored sheet back under the punctured shade of the lamp, pausing as though to listen, shreds of sound escaping sporadic partings of his lips and he was up, mounting the Musical Couriers, pulling their gap wider with his ear to it.

— just heard the first movement of Anton Dvořák’s sev…

He tried to jam the volumes spine to fore edge back together and half lay up there for a moment, to come down blowing at the front of his shirt, looking up abruptly as though fearful to find that sofa empty of its sullen heave as he blew off a fresh sheet under the punctured shade, itself chilled and finally cast into shadow by light separating the slats of the blind that caught him head rested motionless against 24–7 Oz Pkgs Flavored Loops where abruptly he coughed, started, came slowly to his feet to where, now, elbow thrust against the confines of the blanket, a white button had given way.

— Oh wow…

— Oh good, good morning, he caught breath from it, standing.

— I mean it’s like camping out at Niagara Falls… no effort but in turning on her back to draw the shirt over that red brown diffusion all spread out like on the white mound that quickly gone from sight, — I mean listen…