William Gaddis - J R

— I broke another nail.

— I’m glad at least it’s Friday.

— I know, I’m supposed to go out tomorrow and I just broke another nail. My girlfriend’s giving me this shower.

— I didn’t see the coffee wagon.

— I know, I think it just went when I was looking for him… A telephone rang. — Hello…? No he just stepped away from his desk Mister Mollenhoff, he… Yes I’ll have him return your call. I can’t hardly drink the coffee here anyway.

— I think it’s the same ones who run the cafeteria.

— I had that chop-suey sandwich today, it wasn’t so bad.

— I can’t eat things like that. They give me gas.

For time unbroken by looks to the clock the only sound was the chafing of an emery board, and the clock itself, as though seizing the advantage, seemed to accomplish its round with surreptitious leaps forward, knocking whole wedges at once from what remained of the hour.

— I wonder who he wants to stay late.

— I was so tired last night I almost went up the stairs on my hands and knees.

— I know, my girlfriend’s giving this shower for me tomorrow and I already broke a nail, can you tell now looking at it… and the clock suddenly appeared to have reached a good stopping place.

— Oh Carol see if you can get me wait, Florence get me Mister Beaton just sit down here Mister, can you move these things Carol? Sit down here Mister Malinovsky till I find out who’s authorized this, if it’s all on the up and up we haven’t lost a thing but corning in after hours like this with your crew starting to pull down a painting as big as that one in the lobby, Carol get Mister Eigen for me at home while I think of it and…

— Mister Beaton is at a meeting sir, he…

— Well try Cutler, Dick Cutler’s office he might be at the bottom of this or know who is a painting that size by a name painter doesn’t grow on trees the only person who could authorize removing it is that Eigen Carol? Just sit tight a minute Mister Malinovsky, you get Cutler Florence?

— No sir, Miss Bulcke said they’re all at a meeting in the board room. Did you want me to stay or…

— Get Miss Bulcke back and I’ll, just tell her this is urgent I’ve got a man sitting here and a crew out there on double time and a half waiting to, you get Eigen yet?

— He’s waiting on three four Mister Davidoff.

— Oh and Carol… he stabbed at a button. — Hello? And Florence while you’re at it hello? Eigen? he stabbed again. — Look in the files for the name of the painter that did the big lobby mural out there Florence, that big color spread we got on business and the arts in, hello…? He stabbed again, again. — Hello? Eigen…?

The line was dead.

— Tom? was that the phone?

— Idiot cut himself off, he called slumped on the sofa’s arm reaching the phone back, prodding a heap of laundry for space to sit — always hope he’ll forget who he called but…

— Who?

— David don’t climb… it rang again and he reached for it, a piece of toast clinging to his sleeve. — Yes? Eigen…

— Tom? Who, oh. David get down, don’t bother Papa when he’s on the telephone…

— Yes I am, go ahead… he’d dropped the toast crust into an ashtray and was wetting a random corner of sheet from the laundry heap with his tongue — go ahead yes, I’m writing it down… he bent scrubbing the grape jelly stain into his sleeve — right yes, tomorrow mor… but the… ci what…? if General Box leaves directly… from Bonn I wouldn’t need… yes, they… but… but which one is… yes if… got it all down yes, if that’s… Did what…? that painting yes, his name’s Schep… no I… no idea no, I haven’t seen him for… right… right…

— Papa can you…

— Just a minute David, get down.

— Carry me.

— No now get down, I’m just going to the kitchen for a minute. And you know you’re not supposed to bring toast and jelly to the living room.

— Papa Mama said you’d play a game after Mister Schramm went.

— I just want to get a drink David, he said down the dim hall. — David? What are all these shoes doing out here, come pick them up. Marian…? he rounded the corner — what are all those shoes in the hall.

— Who was on the phone.

— Just Davidoff, last minute nonsense can’t stand the idea of somebody finding a moment’s peace… he was stooped over a low cabinet, — got a brush fire going about that lobby painting now he wants me to go out and find Schepperman, Christ. I thought we had some scotch.

— There’s some vodka.

— Hardly half a bottle… he held it up, — where…

— How much scotch do you think we had! she turned from the sink, — when you bring people home that way why don’t you stop and pick some up if you…

— Stop with Schramm the shape he was in?

— Well I didn’t know you were bringing him. She’d turned away again, staring through the window above the sink. — When you don’t call there’s no way I can…

— How the hell could I call? I just had to get him out of there, this, God damned… He had the refrigerator door opened, pounding the blade of a table knife under an ice tray, this… he pounded, — God damned thing, it’s got to be defrosted.

— Will you make me one?

He wrenched it out. — By the time I got him here I could hardly get him up the stairs, they’d packed him so full of morphine and belladonna at Bellevue he said he couldn’t feel his feet touch the ground. Then we got here and the God damned elevator’s broken.

— Every time it breaks down I climb those three flights carrying groceries.

— Do you want water in this?

— I usually have to carry David that last flight too, she said straight armed at the sink staring down at movement in a recessed fire exit across the paper blown street.

— You want water?

— I said just ice. Could I have a cigarette?

— Don’t we have any?

— I thought you’d bring some. And we need milk when you go down too.

— David’s in there waiting for his game, he came up behind her to reach his glass under the tap, reaching round her for it as he would have a piece of furniture — and what the hell’s happened to Jack…

— You know what the hell’s happened to Jack, she said moving no more than to reach her glass where he placed it, and they raised them in opposite directions. — He’s in a bar somewhere letting someone he’s never seen in his life buy him another drink…

— Listen Marian…

— So he can cheer up his good friend Schramm when he finally gets here.

— God damn it listen, when Jack called I didn’t even know Schramm had got out. Jack lost his key to Ninety-sixth Street and he wants to borrow ten dollars, that’s why he’s coming down here. He doesn’t even know Schramm’s out loose in that shape.

She raised her glass again, then lowered it repeating — in that shape… tossing the loose cubes, — the way you and Jack talk about him but you just let him walk out the door alone, in that shape, that filthy bandage, and Jack, all Jack has on his mind is a key to Ninety-sixth Street to take some woman up to that…

— Marian God damn it you’re always ready with half the God damned facts whenever somebody else is trying to, Schramm left because Jack’s coming, that’s why he left. He was scared, God damn it Marian I’ve been through this, I know what he, I’ve talked him out of it before and so has Jack, so has Jack, he was afraid if he waited here Jack and I would try to get him back into Bellevue. That’s why he left, that’s why he was suddenly in such a God damned hurry to leave when he knew Jack was coming.

— I see. She held her glass out where he tipped the bottle over his own. — Did he know where he was going? in that shape?