William Gaddis - J R

— Yeah well your father he’s full of…

— Yeah well you better watch out boy, if he ever finds who got that whole mountain of dirt out front of our house hauled away you’re going to be in…

— So what you said he’s always yelling he wants to get rid of it practically since you’re born didn’t you? I mean it already had these little trees growing in it look be careful how you’re picking them up will you? I mean you can’t give somebody this dirty business card when you go in some office and…

— So throw away the dirty ones who needs all these, I mean it looks like there’s a thousand…

— So what you had to order a thousand if you want this here free wallet gift so…

— Look there’s a couple over there hey, he’s stepping on…

— Holy… he came on at knee level, — excuse me could you move your foot Mis, oh hi Mister Gibbs…

— What?

— Hi… came from down there, — I just wanted to ask you…

— Wait a minute, what…? he ground a foot turning back to the window, — probation, it’s made out to the Department of Probation p, r, o… well God damn it I didn’t name it, here. Twenty, forty, ninety, one ten, one sixty, one eighty yes I do use an old-fashioned fountain pen is there a regulation against that too? Two thirty, two forty, five, seven, eight wait I’ve still got some change nine, nine fifty, seventy-five, eighty-five Christ wait, ninety-five, six, there…

— Hey Mister Gibbs?

— What is it!

— No I just wondered, did you see Mister Bast around anyplace?

— Bast? he licked the envelope in a turn for the Out of Town slot, — you had him last…

— I, what?

— Thought your gang took him to the money museum, he said in a turn for the door — most popular man in town… and it banged closed behind him where smoke and flame escaping the black spread up Burgoyne Street found purchase on a descending bloat of Chloe as he dodged the car mounting the curb in arrival, digging in pockets at a half trot through the reek of asphalt to come up with a crushed cigarette package, matches with a half fare ticket stuck in the cleft, still digging as the door banged behind him and he reached the grilled window emptying a pocket — just turning in some tickets…

— Wrong window, buddy.

— What do you mean, it’s the only window here.

— Maybe you got the wrong track then… the heap was pushed back under the grill. — Next?

— No wait, sorry… he recovered a torn half of Jack’s Little Green Card, squares bearing Place ten number three sixth race, Win — sorry there, I think I get ten dollars and forty cents back.

— For what.

— The refund for these tickets.

— Fill out this and send them to this address.

— What for, can’t you…

— Look buddy I had enough of you the other time, start getting wise again and…

— What other time what are you talking about? I simply want to turn in these tickets…

— For the refund you want, right? So you fill out this and mail them where it says.

— But I need the money now, I’m…

— You want to take them in yourself, go ahead.

— In where.

— In Brooklyn where it says. Next?

— Brooklyn?

— One way?

— Wait a minute…

— That’s one seventy-eight.

— But I didn’t say I was going to Brooklyn, I’m…

— You buying a ticket or not. Next?

— Wait. Look. There isn’t any next. There’s nobody behind me, he said loudly over the sound shaking the station from above. — Is that the train?

— What else would it be, wise guy?

— I mean the train to New York, when’s the next train to New York.

— Make up your mind, here…

— But, no but this timetable’s, these are trains for the whole East Coast, can’t you just tell me if that’s the next train to New York? I have to get to New York…

— New York?

— Yes, I…

— That’s one eighty-four.

— But that’s the point I don’t have one eighty-four, I…

— You buying a ticket or just trying to make more trouble?

— More? All I want is, all I have is thirty-one cents Mister, Mister Teets I can’t give you one eighty-four that’s why I need the refund, don’t you…

— Fill this out and mail it in. Next?

— Teets look behind me! There’s nobody there Teets! Nobody next! Nobody! He clung to the bars a moment longer and then grabbed up the tickets and ran toward the stairs and up them two, three at a time, out to the platform and the train to slump in the first seat he found with a newspaper jammed in the hinge which proved, when unfurled, to be the Staats Zeitung und Herold.

A conductor with a wisp mustache stood tapping his punch. — Ticket?

— Ja? He looked up from the paper with a great smile.

— Your ticket?

— Ahh, Sie wollen meine, meine… He rummaged in pockets, to come up with a cardboard square and offer it with a beaming smile.

— This is a half fare ticket, Mister.

— Bitte?

— I said this ticket, this is half fare ticket.

— Ja ja… he beamed, nodding, his eyes beginning to cross.

— Half fare, half. Kiddie. Child.

— Ja, wissen Sie…

— Look. You, man. Ticket, child ticket. Get it?

— In dem Bahnhof, ja, he commenced still beaming, eyes now firmly crossed, — in dem Bahnhof habe ich die…

— For Christ sake look. Where you buy ticket?

— Herr Teets, verstehen Sie? In dem Bahnhof, Herr Bahnhofmeister Teets, Gott-trunkener Mensch, verstehen Sie? Mit der Dummheit kämpfen Götter selbst vergebens, he beamed, eyes abruptly straightened, — nicht?

— Oh for Christ sake.

— Bitte? The smile gone, his mouth hung open.

— Forget it. The conductor punched the ticket emphatically and turned up the aisle, abruptly snagged by a hand on his arm.

— Ja danke, danke schön, he beamed shaking the conductor’s hand up and down, raising his great smile from the Staats Zeitung each time the conductor passed the entire trip in and trapping him with a final vigorous handshake upon arrival, where he sought a telephone and sat in the booth wiping his face before he dug out his coins and dialed. — Hello? Mister Eigen please… Hello? Mister… oh, would you ask him to call me right back? It’s an emergency. My name is, God damn it… No, somebody’s scraped the number off this phone, I’ll have to call back. He banged it down and ducked out, into the next booth studying the three coins in his hand before he raised one and dialed again. — Hello? Ben? No I’ll hold on…

Syllables resonant and unrelated fused arrivals and departures on the loudspeaker as he sat with the door pushed open, staring out, — Ben? Yes, hello, listen. Has her lawyer come up with any final offer? I can’t keep living by my wits this way much longer I’m… No I just mailed a God damned payment, if they come up with some kind of a final… I don’t know! I know it yes, I don’t… What property and securities Christ I don’t even, I had five percent of some brokendown family held company I used to work for probably still got it someplace but that’s the… they said what…? No now listen God damn it I’m not trying to get out of support for the girl Ben you know that God damned well it’s this other, this God damned alimony part that’s… I know it I know you set it up that way but listen what God damned good is a tax position if I can’t even… when, now? I can’t take a cab over no I can’t even take a bus over, I’ve got exactly eleven… all right yes all right, late in the week…

He pulled the door open studying the two coins in his hand before he raised one to the phone and dialed again. — Mister Eigen please… Hello? I just called… Eigen? I just got into town. Where’s Schramm… he wedged the phone against a shoulder digging in a pocket to come up with the cigarette pack, hesitate over the last one there and take it. — Christ how, who got him into Bellevue? What? All right, I agree, but Christ it couldn’t have happened to anybody else, it was an accident that could only have happened to Schramm… Who? If they want to keep him there overnight for observation let them… Well he could too you know God damned well he could, especially after this, the last time I talked him out of it he… I know it… Right now I’ll walk down there right now, it should take me about… Because I have exactly one cent, that’s why! What…? Nothing. Fine, great, sitting in the railroad station with a God damned penny in my pocket looking for a familiar face been like this since I was seven, come down from school for the weekend or being put on the Sunday night train it never leaves, Schramm’s right you can’t just kill part of it you, wait, wait I see somebody I, I know, wait hold on…