Henry Miller - NEXUS

This tender little speech started the tears flowing again. She put her arms around me, kissed me on both cheeks. I made no objection. Then she led me to the bed and sat down, pulling me beside her.

In spite of my grief I couldn't help noting her slovenly appearance. Over her frayed pajamas—she wore them all day apparently—she had thrown a stained kimono. Her stockings hung loosely about her ankles; hairpins were dangling from her mop of tousled hair. She was a frump, no mistake about it. Frump or no frump, however, she was genuinely distressed, genuinely concerned for me.

With one arm around my shoulder she told me gently but tactfully that she had been aware for some time of all that was going on. But I had to hold my tongue, she said. She paused now and then to permit me to give way to my grief. Finally she assured me that Mona loved me. Yes, she said, she loves you dearly.

I was about to protest these words when again the door opened softly and there stood the other sister. This one was better attired and more attractive looking. She came over and after a few soft words sat down on the other side of me. The two of them now held my hands in theirs. What a picture it must have been!

Such solicitude! Did they imagine that I was ready to blow my brains out? Over and over they assured me that everything was for the best. Patience, patience! In the end everything would work out well. It was inevitable, they said. Why? Because I was such a good person. God was testing me, that was all.

Often, said the one, we wanted to come down and console you, but we didn't dare to intrude. We knew how you felt. We could tell when you paced back and forth, back and forth. It was heart-rending, but what could we do?

It was getting too much for me, all this sympathizing. I got up and lit a cigarette. The frumpy one now excused herself and ran upstairs.

She'll be back in a minute, said the other. She began telling me about their life in Holland. Something she said, or the way she said it, caused me to laugh. She clapped her hands with delight. See, it's not so bad after all, is it? You can still laugh.

With this I began to laugh harder, much harder. It was impossible to say whether I was laughing or weeping. I couldn't stop.

There now, there now, she said, pressing me to her and cooing. Put your head on my shoulder. That's it. My, but you have a tender hearth)

Ridiculous as it was, it felt good to give way on her shoulder. I even felt a slight stirring of sex, locked in her motherly embrace.

Her sister now reappeared bearing a tray on which there was a decanter, three glasses and some biscuits.

This will make you feel better, she said, pouring me a potion of schnaps.

We clinked glasses, as if it were a happy event we were celebrating, and swallowed. It was pure fire water.

Have another, said the other sister and refilled the glasses. There, doesn't that feel good? It burns, eh? But it gives you spirit.

We had two or three more in rapid fire succession. Each time they said—There, don't you feel better now?

Better or worse, I couldn't say. All I knew was that my guts were on fire. And then the room began to spin.

Lie down, they urged, and grasping me by the arms they lowered me on to the bed. I stretched out full length helpless as a babe. They removed my coat, then my shirt, then my pants and shoes. I made no protest. They rolled me over and tucked me away.

Sleep a while, they said, we'll call for you later. We'll have dinner for you when you wake up.

I closed my eyes. The room spun round even faster now.

We'll look after you, said the one.

We'll take good care of you, said the other.

They tiptoed out of the room.

It was in the wee hours of the morning that I awoke. I thought the church bells were ringing. (Exactly what my mother said when trying to recall the hour of my birth.) I got up and read the note again. By now they were well out on the high seas. I was hungry. I found a piece of the cheese cake on the floor and gulped it down. I was even thirstier than I was hungry. I drank several glasses of water one after the other. My head ached a bit. Then I crept back to bed. But there was no more sleep in me. Toward daybreak I rose, dressed, and sallied out. Better to walk than lie there thinking. I'll walk and walk, thought I, until I drop.

It didn't work the way I thought. Fresh or fatigued, the thinking never stops. Round and round one goes, always over the same ground, always returning to the dead center: the unacceptable now.

How I passed the rest of the day is a complete blank. All I remember is that the heart-ache grew steadily worse. Nothing could assuage it. It wasn't something inside me, it was me. I was the ache. A walking, talking ache. If only I could drag myself to the slaughter-house and have them fell me like an ox—it would have been an act of mercy. Just one swift blow—between the eyes. That, and only that, could kill the ache.

Monday morning I reported for work as usual. I had to wait a good hour before Tony showed up. When he did he took one look at me and said—What's happened?

I told him briefly. All kindness, he said: Let's go and have a drink. There's nothing very pressing. His nibs won't be in to-day, so there's nothing to worry about.

We had a couple of drinks and then lunch. A good lunch followed by a good cigar. Never a word of reproach for Mona.

Only, as we were walking back to the office, did he permit himself a harmless observation. It beats me, Henry. I have plenty of troubles but never that kind.

At the office he outlined my duties once again. I'll introduce you to the boys to-morrow, he said. (When you have a grip on yourself, is what he meant.) He added that I would find them easy to get along with.

Thus that day passed and the next.

I became acquainted with the other members of the office, all time servers, all waiting for that pension at the foot of the rainbow. Nearly all of them were from Brooklyn, all ordinary blokes, all speaking that dreary-bleary Brooklynese. But all of them eager to be of assistance.

There was one chap, a bookkeeper, to whom I took a fancy immediately. Paddy Mahoney was his name. He was an Irish Catholic, narrow as they make ‘em, argumentative, pugnacious, all the things I dislike, but because I hailed from the 14th Ward—he had been born and raised in Greenpoint—we got on famously. As soon as Tony and the Commissioner were gone he was at my desk ready to chew the rag the rest of the day.

Wednesday morning I found a radiogram on my desk. Must have fifty dollars before landing. Please cable immediately.

I showed the message to Tony when he appeared. What are you going to do? he said.

That's what I want to know, I said.

You're not going to send them money, are you ... after what they did to you?

I looked at him helplessly. I'm afraid I'll have to, I replied.

Don't be a chump, he said. They made their bed, let them lie in it.

I had hoped that he would tell me I could borrow in advance on my salary. Crestfallen, I went back to my work. While working I kept wondering how and where I could raise such a sum. Tony was my only hope. But I didn't have the heart to press him. I couldn't—he had already done more for me than I deserved.

After lunch, which he usually shared with his political cronies at a bar in the Village nearby, he blew in with a big cigar in his mouth and smelling rather heavily of drink. He had a big smile on his face, the sort he used to wear at school when he was up to some devilment.

How's it going? he said. Getting the hang of it, are you? Not such a bad place to work in, is it?

He tossed his hat over his shoulder, sank deep into his swivel chair and put his feet on the desk. Taking a good long pull on his cigar and turning slightly in my direction, he said: I guess I don't understand women much, Henry. I'm a confirmed bachelor. You're different. You don't mind complications, I guess. Anyway, when you told me about the cable this morning I thought you were a fool. Right now I don't think that way. You need help, and I'm the only one who can help you, I guess. Look, let me lend you what you need. I can't get you an advance on your salary ... you're too new here for that. Besides, it would raise a lot of unnecessary questions. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad. You can pay me back five bucks a week, if you like. But don't let them bleed you for morel Be tough!