Donald Barthelme: The Dead Father

Picking up of Thomas. The Dead Father pauses in mid-strum. Application of wet cloths to Thomas’s forebrain. He revives. Anxiety of the onlookers. What has been foretold? Whacks of pemmican poised over open mouths in anticipation of revelation. Thomas remains silent. Anger of the men. Thomas stares at shoes. Anger of the men. Edmund lifts flask to lips. Emma appears. Thomas is startled. Who is Emma? Emma sits down on a box Julie regards Emma. Her stare met. Two stares contending. Emma fingering her brooch. Julie standing with hands pressed into thighs, atop skirt. Thomas fiddling with sword hilt. Silence of the troops. Golden hair of Emma. Pouty bosom of Emma. Merry eye of Emma. General consternation. The Dead Father lists his degrees. B.S.A., Bachelor of Science in Agriculture, to B.S.S.S., Bachelor of Science in Secretarial Studies. Evil look from Thomas to the Dead Father. Ferns cut and on a bed of ferns fresh trout newly wrest from the trout stream presented to Emma by kneeling-on-one-knee troopers. Emma pleased. Little hairs of pleasure rise on back of Emma’s neck. Emma suggests cooking of trout (immediate) and produces from reticule a can of slivered almonds. The men build a fire, all pemmican forgot. More trout persuaded from trout stream, they are very eager. The sky grays as sun zips behind large cloud. Waning or demise of sun. The projector is set up for projection of the pornographic film. Thomas decides that the Dead Father is not allowed to view film, because of his age. Outrage of the Dead Father. Death of the guitar, whanged against a tree, in outrage. Guitar carcass added to the fire. Thomas adamant. The Dead Father raging. Emma regnant. Julie staring. Trout browning. Thomas walks to the edge. Regards the edge. Aspect of one about to hurtle over the. Thomas retreats from the edge. Slivered almonds distributed over various trouts browning in various skillets. Projector casts image upon screen (collapsible/portable). The Dead Father led away and chained to an engine block abandoned in a farther field. Revilings by the Dead Father. Damn your eyes, etc. Ignoring by Thomas. The film. Scenes of partying, men and women, the fourth guest, a woman, gets up and sits in the lap of the second guest, a woman, they begin fondling each other’s breasts. The ninth guest, a man, approaches the sixth guest (the one kneeling with her head between the legs of the fifth guest) and begins taking off her jeans. The ninth guest unbuckles the sixth guest’s belt, unzips the jeans, and works them down over her hips. The ninth guest carefully pulls down the sixth guest’s panties, which are orange, and sticks his erect thumb between her legs. Some members of the group watching screen, some watching Emma, some watching Emma/screen/Emma/screen, some watching Emma/screen/Julie/screen/Thomas.

Beam of Emma touching every face and who knows? heart. Tilt of Emma-bust toward fire where it blushes in the firelight. Frown from Julie who is removing small bones from trout. Seating arrangements to be announced. Beam of Emma creating confusions, some return beam, some do not, some are sunk in film, some asprawl in each other’s arms for mutual solace and comfort, some creeping toward Emma’s box on hands and knees, when —

Emma rises, stretches out hands. Receives her trout brown and toasty with its little flittered almonds in a tasty sauce, butter, herbs. Emma bites trout. Bite-hole in trout, U-shaped. Applause of the men. Banging together of hands. Thomas orders the film ceased. The film, he says, does not represent accurately the parameters of human love. Something missing, he says. Anger of the men. Thomas discourses for fifteen minutes upon the subject, his own (personal) love of pornography. Nevertheless this film, this film, he says, is turned off. The sixth guest begins to move slowly up and down upon the thumb of the ninth guest and the picture is white light. Anger of the men. Anger of the women. Whistles and stomps. Ranting of the Dead Father, from a farther field. Thomas walks again toward the edge.

Absence of film. Restlessness of the men. The bolder come closer. Emma’s box upon which Emma’s fundament rests closely regarded. Attempt by the boldest to insinuate head under Emma’s skirts, there to witness who knows what. These unsuccessful, Emma’s dainty foot kicks. That will teach them. Chomping on trout continues the while, some sillybaby also chomped, with a dill sauce. That will teach them. Grumbling intermixed with shrieks. Emma rises, stretches. Then the duel, Alexander vs. Sam. Each pinks the other in the shoulder. Thomas bandaiding. Julie moves to Emma. Conversation.

Whose little girl are you?

I get by, I get by.

Time to go.

Hoping this will reach you at a favorable moment.

Bad things can happen to people.

Is that a threat?

Dragged him all this distance without any rootytoot-toot.

Is that a threat?

Take it any way you like it.

Other fish to fry.

We guarantee every effort will be made.

Who’s the boss?

One in the orange tights.

He’s not bad-looking.

That’s one opinion.

Inclined to tarry for a bit.

Pop one of these if you’d like a little lift.

Thank you.

Two is one too many.

That’s your opinion.

Since you have not as yet responded to my suggestion.

Where are you taking him?

We guarantee every effort will be made.

More than I can bear.

No it’s not.

Frightful violation of the ordinaries.

No it’s not.

He’s not bad-looking.

Haven’t made up my mind.

You must have studied English.

Take my word for it.

How did that make you feel?

Wasn’t the worst.

I queened it for a while in Yorkshire.

Did you know Lord Raglan?

I knew Lord Raglan.

He’s not bad-looking.

Handsome, clever, rich.

Yorkshire has no queen of its own I believe.

Correct.

Time to go.

Inclined to tarry for a bit.

Thank you.

Two is one too many.

That’s your opinion.

Nevertheless. Nevertheless.

Various circumstances requiring my attention.

I can make it hot for you.

So full and orange.

You don’t know what you’re getting into.

Hoping this will reach you at a favorable moment.

Wake up one dark night with a thumb in your eye.

Women together changing that which can and ought to be changed.

Dangled his twiddle-diddles in my face.

More than I can bear.

No it’s not.

Will it hurt?

I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.

He’s not bad-looking.

Haven’t made up my mind.

Groups surrounding us needing direction.

Maybe.

What’s he like?

That’s my business.

Have you tried any of the others?

That’s my business.

Want to take a look around. See the sights.

I can make it hot for you.

Is that a threat?

Construed any way you wish.

I asked him about organization.

What did he tell you?

Destroy it in order to let the water flow freely.

That’s referred pain I know about that.

But a maiden drowned.

Did they recover a body?

Three. Two were the bodies of sheep.

Oh yes I read about it. In the Svenska Dagbladet.

And he felt guilty.

I never asked him.

It’s all been carefully considered.

He’s a motherfucker I tell you true.

Nevertheless.

Doing what we must at great personal and emotional cost.

Any of the others any good?

Haven’t tried them.

Thought I heard a dog barking.

It’s possible. The simplest basic units develop into the richest natural patterns.

Are you into spanking?

No I’m not.

Pity. We could have got something going.

I’m not into that.

Where can a body get a hit around here?