William Gaddis - J R

— Well what the hell Marian, that publisher’s a fatuous bastard you know that, he’s been sitting on that book for how many years? blubbering about his loyalty to it pretending it was what did he tell Tom? very much in print? when the only God damned place you could find it was a rare book dealer’s for twenty dollars a copy after they’d remaindered practically the whole first edition? He didn’t know anything about this new reprint till he saw one in a window and now it’s bringing him some attention he…

— He what Jack, he what! He gets letters from Who’s Who and invitations to read from his work, letters from editors and college girls and he just fights them off, he won’t even…

— I know that, I know all that but he’s going through a, just trying to readjust after nine years of…

— And what about me! What do you think those nine years have been like for me? You won’t give me anything though, will you Jack. That Ninety-sixth Street tenement when you used to come up there for dinner and we had to wait for him to get his typewriter and papers off the card table so we could eat Jack he’s still working on that play, he’s still rewriting it and changing it and rewriting it he won’t let go of it, he won’t finish it because he’s afraid to compete with himself, it’s himself he’s…

— Well look Marian what, as Freud said what the hell is it you want.

— Just a man who, who’s happy with what he’s doing.

— You’re not asking much are you.

— Jack I can’t respect a man who doesn’t respect himself, do you know what he’s like about this job? Do you think we ever talk about anything else? from the minute he comes in the door…

— How many husbands do you think come home from work all smiles come on Marian, it’s the oldest God damned story there is putting up with the same crap day after day trying to make a living and then coming home to I’ve been slaving all day over a hot stove while you’ve been down in a nice cool sewer, he’s just trying to pull this play together and make a decent living at the same time for you and…

— Yes you won’t give me a thing will you! None of you will! How do you think it makes me feel, why do you think we don’t go to parties anymore, because I have too much to drink? Yes why because all of you, you and his friends and these editors asking about his next great book shaking their heads admiring how hard he works to support us, me and David but what a tragedy for American literature how do you think that makes me feel! The great Thomas Eigen’s talent being thrown away in a stupid job because he has to make a decent living for his wife and son he resents every bill he pays, the rent, nursery school he even resents that, paying David’s nursery school and food, three lamb chops Jack, three lamb chops! A decent living standing in that kitchen looking down at that man with no hands and, no face, just a burn scar with holes in it and that coat to his ankles hiding from the wind in that fire exit screwing the cap off a bottle with his mouth and holding it up between his wrists to…

— Marian listen! Listen you’ve talked about that man before it’s, you just use him to, I don’t know put up curtains or pull down the God damned shade you don’t have to stand and stare at him but you, you use him to bring things down, like you talked about Schramm’s accident as though he’d done it on purpose just to…

— Because all of you, all three of you the way you and Tom and, and Schramm the way you find excuses for each other’s failures and I can’t stand being one anymore I might have done something, nobody thinks of that do they I might have…

— There’s your doorbell.

— Everybody’s idea that I’ve kept Tom from his work by being a burden maybe he’s kept me from mine, all these years I might have done something myself I might still if…

— Marian Christ, I just met a talented woman who’s never been allowed to do anything and, is there any more vodka?

— Mama? Mama it’s a man…

— I’ll be right back, give me your glass.

His hands abruptly searched pockets as he turned back to the window, one to come up with matches, the other empty, and he returned the matches and stood there staring down at the sidewalk.

— Jack?

— David, oh. He turned to the somersault off the sofa’s arm into the laundry heap. — I thought you were getting pajamas.

— Jack when the Chinese people look at television, are the people they see on television Chinese?

— Why of course, and the…

— Lift me up.

— Hold on.

— Higher, hi… what are you doing?

— Trying to see how you’d look on Chinese television.

— Would I be upside down? Why would I be upside down.

— Because you’d be on the other side of the world wouldn’t you? Get into your pajamas I’ll finish that game with you, were you playing with Mama?

— No. Don’t drop me.

— Oh, she was playing by herself.

— No with Papa, before the policeman came.

— What policeman.

— The one that came and got him when he peeked. Jack?

— When he, what policeman, Marian…?

— Do you know what I’d like to do Jack?

— What… he reached up to free his throat from an embrace suddenly so close he faltered.

— I’d like to go right up to the sky and disappear, and then come down like the rain. Jack?

— What, Marian what…

— That was Tom’s orders arriving by special messenger. She held out a glass. — Tomorrow he…

— But where is he? David just said a policeman came and…

— I was just going to tell you yes, David I told you to go get your pajamas now get down, go to your room and find your pajamas, now hurry… Then she turned. — It’s Schramm, she said, — something about your friend Schramm…

— Well what, what about him?

— I don’t know, Tom was talking to him and he…

— Tom’s at Bellevue now? Why didn’t you…

— No that was, that was it, Schramm got out and came to Tom’s office and Tom brought him down here and then the, I don’t know, the police came, they thought he’d, maybe he’d jumped, they thought somebody’d jumped and they wanted Tom to…

— But where is he! Where are they!

— Tom went with them, they took him up to Ninety-sixth Street to see if…

— Why didn’t you tell me! he turned for the hall, — why the hell didn’t you tell me when I got here?

— I thought, she said following him — I just wanted…

— You just wanted the God damned spotlight a minute longer didn’t you, looked like Schramm was grabbing it with the last thing he’s ever done but you…

— But Jack if it… they’d reached the door and he pulled it open. — Jack if Schramm’s dead? And, I’m here…?

— I, Christ I, you’ve got to have soap opera, Jack I’m going to leave Tom, Ginger I’m going to leave Tony the minute something real happens you have to star in your own God damned soap opera… The door slammed, and she’d scarcely turned from it when it shook with his pounding on the other side. — Marian?

She got it open. — What.

— Tom was going to lend me twenty I’ve got to get a cab up there, did he leave it for me?

— No.

— Well he, could you…

She turned to the kitchen, put down her glass and opened a cupboard there. — I have ten.

— Fine and, fine thanks, he took it, holding the door, — and Marian one last thing if you think you’re going through with this, you can pull that on anybody else just don’t ever try to tell me again you’re doing it for him, you can lie to Tom, lie to yourself lie to David but don’t ever try to… the door came closed flat in his face and he turned sliding one foot toward the elevator, slipped and made for the stairs, down them and out hailing traffic before he reached the curb.