Donald Barthelme - The Dead Father

This is Emma.

Emma, Hector.

Hector, Emma.

He likes to dance that I can tell you and don’t be afraid he’s really very sweet and quite new, a new experience I can promise you that.

Thomas approaches and asks Julie to dance.

Julie says that she is willing to dance with Thomas.

I saw you dancing with that ape.

Yes I was dancing with that ape his name is Hector I mean that’s not really his name I don’t suppose I just called him that.

Did you want to go to bed with him?

Never occurred to me I just wanted to try it, is all.

Are you sure you don’t have a fantasy of going to bed with him you were dancing quite close I saw it.

Well he tends to hold on very tightly I don’t think it’s sexual so much I just think he likes to hold on to everything very tightly I mean I think that’s the way he holds on to things. Very tightly.

Well it made me feel funny to see you dancing with him and talking to him and all that and you certainly looked like you were having a high old time.

Well he’s very pleasant and sweet and believe me I had my work cut out for me just keeping the conversation going you’ve nothing to be jealous about nothing whatsoever I’m surprised at you jealous of an ape what’s that music?

It’s the “Registration Waltz.” He certainly knows his way around a banjo.

Yes I didn’t know he played banjo I knew he played guitar of course but I didn’t know he played banjo.

I didn’t even know we had a banjo but Sam has been carrying it all this way and a pocket cornet too you should see it it’s only about eight or nine inches long but he gets a lot of sound out of it they’re made in Warsaw he told me amazing how much musical talent you find around almost everybody can play something a little bit.

Yes I believe the Dead Father plays nine instruments he told me once what they were eight or nine but he can certainly make a banjo sing I think this was a good idea don’t you everybody seems to be having a good time whose idea was it?

Edmund’s. And Emma’s.

What’s that they’re playing now?

It’s the “Penetration Waltz” I believe.

And the apes coming, crashing I suppose but I don’t care, gives you a feeling of newness always good to meet new people get an idea of what others are like new perspectives as it were I wish they could talk almost made a mistake and offered Hector some chicken salad probably a bad idea to get them started.

The Dead Father looks quite happy doesn’t he almost benign one could almost forget about his wood chisels and all the rest of it seeing him sitting here keeping time with his mechanical leg and doing that what do they call it trailing I think I wonder where he learned that the old bastard knows a lot of different things you have to hand it to him product I suppose of his long years of…

Ouch! I’m sorry probably my fault do you want to get a little taste of something I’m thirsty look at that! that ape just knocked Edmund down now he’s picking him up again now he’s knocking him down again oh God we don’t want a melee you’d better break it up maybe we could organize a lady-in-the-lake or something you try to get the apes in one line and I’ll line up our people let me see twenty-three less the three playing plus five apes means roughly twelve on a side.

We’ll need a caller, Thomas said, I’ll do that, that means twelve on a side.

The lines formed. The trio begins ‘The Titanium Polka.”

Honor your partner, Thomas said, all gather round, there’s a great day comin’, let’s run it in the ground.

Emma and Hector do-si-do-ing down the lines.

This is the best dance I have ever been to! Emma exclaimed.

An outpost of civilization or human habitation. Dwellings in neat rows back to back to back to back. Children at play on roofs.

Where are the streets? asked the Dead Father.

There appear to be none, said Julie.

Perhaps tunnels in the earth?

Or maybe they squeeze between the houses, making themselves all teensy-weensy and not forgetting to gaze into the windows as they pass.

It is Planning, said Thomas, a New Town. One must achieve the rim to be killed by auto.

Circulation is not a big thing here, said a stander-by. Why is that man, that one of you, the distinguished-looking one, being dragged? What has he committed? Why are those nineteen puffing and sweating away, on the cable? Why are you three not puffing and sweating away on the cable? I do not understand your table of organization.

He is a father, said Thomas.

Terrible news, said the man, you can’t bring him in here.

He is fatigued. We are fatigued. We can pay.

You’ll have to deballock him and wipe your feet on the mat, said the man, whose face contained beardescules at odd points, such as the lips and center of the forehead. Do you need a deballocking knife? Scissors? Razor? Paper cutter? Shard of glass? Letter opener? Fingernail clippers?

He is a sacred object, in a sense, Thomas said. No more of your bubblegum. Which way is the flophouse?

There are two, the citizen said. The good one and the bad one. The bad one has the best girls. The good one has the best pâté. The bad one has the best beds. The good one has the best cellar. The bad one has the best periodicals. The good one has the best security. The bad one has the best band. The good one has the best roaches. The bad one has the best martinis. The good one has the best credit cards. The bad one has the best table silver. The good one has the best views. The bad one has the best room service. The good one has the best reputation. The bad one has the best façade. The good one has the best chandelier. The bad one has the best carpet. The good one has the best bathrooms. The bad one has the best bar. The good one has the best Dun & Bradstreet. The bad one has the best portraits. The good one has the best bellmen. The bad one has the best potted plants. The good one has the best ashtrays. The bad one has the best snails. The good one has the best postcards. The bad one has the best breakfast. The good one —

Between the good one and the bad one, Julie said, there appears to be little choice.

There are also private houses but none large enough or foolish enough to attempt to accommodate your party, said the man. That thing there would scare the children out of their wigs, did they get but a glimpse of it.

He is talking about you, Emma said to the Dead Father.

The Dead Father beamed.

He says you’ll frighten the children.

Happiness of the Dead Father.

Him, the citizen said, him can’t be brought in without the fixing. I can lend you a Skilsaw.; I would prefer not to, said the Dead Father.

He prefers not to, Thomas told the citizen.

Well damn and blast, said the citizen, who would imagine otherwise? Yet a rule is a rule.

Edmund, Thomas called.

Edmund presented himself.

How would you like to buy a drink or so for this citizen of this fine community? Thomas asked. You may charge it to me.

Tremble of happiness running through Edmund from top to bottom (visible).

Edmund and the citizen off to the alehouse arm-in-arm.

Now, Thomas said, let’s inspect the accommodations.

After looking at the good one, they chose the bad one.

Julie and Thomas in their room, sitting on the bed. Picture on the wall, Death of Sigismur.

Amazing how he holds on to his balls, said Julie, that is a curious thing, I don’t understand it.

I understand it, said Thomas.

Doesn’t know when it’s time to hang it up, she said, how old do you think he is?

He claims one hundred and nine, said Thomas, but he may be stretching it. He may be shrinking it. I don’t know.

Three of our people are clones I think.