The Complete Roderick

by John Sladek

  ‘No, well more like Truth or Consequences. Listen, this afternoon, what did you and Judy Smith do out there by the back hedge?’

  ‘Doctors.’

  ‘You played doctors? How does it go?’

  ‘Well you don’t have pieces –’

  ‘That’s a relief. Go on.’

  ‘And you just talk mostly about how the radiologist is batty about some nurse in O.R. Two, she won’t give him a second look though because she’s head-over-heels in love with young Doctor Something who’s been working too hard, two hours sleep in five years he can’t go on like this I tell you, with you it’s always give, give, let Doctor Whatsit carry some of the load sure he’s old and he drinks before surgery –’

  ‘Fine, but what do you do besides talk?’

  ‘Well nothing much. She puts it in my hands.’

  ‘Sit down, Doc! Puts what, boy?’

  ‘Her life. In my hands, my capable hands.’

  ‘Think we got nothin’ here, Doc, let’s go.’

  Dr Smith cursed and yelled incoherently for a moment, then left, carrying before him his swollen, pink, capable hands. The sheriff remained behind a moment.

  ‘Real sorry about this, folks. Doc’ll pay for the door and all but – well, might be better to make sure we don’t get any more false alarms, okay?’

  Pa said, ‘Keep him away from Judy Smith, you mean?’

  ‘I mean, keep him chained up. Seems to me if he ain’t a boy or a girl and he ain’t exactly a machine, he must be a pet. You get a good strong chain tomorrow, and chain him up.’

  Ma shrieked. Pa turned pinker than a dentist’s hands. ‘What the hell, here, Sheriff, look at all these papers – we’re trying to adopt him. He’s our son. You can’t ask us to chain up our own –’

  ‘I can and I do. You adopt him, maybe we can forget the chain. Until then – that’s an order of my office, chain him up – or else. I catch him loose on the street, takin’ him in to the pound in Belmontane. They might even destroy him.’

  Pa and Ma sat up fretting most of the night, but in the morning there was nothing else to do: Pa went to Sam’s Newer Hardware and bought a twenty-foot chain and a padlock. Ma sat weeping by her African violets. ‘Fetters on a baby!’ she said. ‘Paul, how can we do this to him?’

  ‘At least he’ll be where we can keep an eye on him. He’ll be safe.’

  ‘Or she will,’ said Ma, blowing her nose. ‘Couldn’t we just let him or her have one last taste of freedom in the front yard? A minute? Half a minute?’

  ‘Okay, Mary.’ They let him out, watched him gambol (more or less) and then went to fetch the chain. They returned to see a tattooed arm drag him into a car, which slammed its door and screeched its tyres and shot out of sight.

  ‘Nobody in town’s got a car like that, all colourless,’ said Pa, when he could get his breath. ‘And the licence plate all dusty.’

  ‘I was afraid of this,’ Ma said. ‘The gipsies have got him.’

  V

  The big woman with the wrinkled face kept saying, ‘Jeep, you ain’t got the sense of a dehorn, takin’ some kid’s toy like this.’

  Roderick was wedged in the back seat between her and Jeep, the man with pictures all over his arms. There were other people wedged in around them. He could see half an ear wearing an earring, a hand holding a guitar, the bald spot of someone who was snoring, a baby’s foot.

  ‘Jeep, you ain’t got –’

  ‘Come on, Zip, how’d I know? It looked like a lawn-mower to me.’

  Roderick said, ‘I’m not a lawn-mower, I’m a robot. My name is Roderick Wood –’

  ‘Told you: a toy. A damned toy.’

  ‘– and I live at 614 Sycamore Aven –’

  ‘Osiris!’ someone shouted. ‘This thing’s security-wired! We better stop and dump –’

  ‘Stop nothing.’ Zip composed her wrinkles. ‘You know the rule: when in doubt, keep going.’

  The bald spot turned away and a watery eye took its place. ‘Oh fine. You know how these rubes are about toys. They get ten times as excited over some fool toy ripoff as they do over a car. And if we get pinched – well, there goes my nomination for Gipsy Good Neighbour of the Year.’

  Jeep held up a screwdriver. ‘Okay okay I’ll strip this thing down now and we can sell the parts in Gallonville. Any objections?’

  Roderick said, ‘Well I –’

  ‘Mommy, mommy,’ said a voice from the front.

  The earring moved. ‘Not now, Chepette.’

  ‘Strip and sell, that’s the rule,’ said the old woman. ‘Only maybe this little gizmo’s worth more on the hoof, eh? Lemme think a minute.’

  ‘Mommy, can me and Jepper have a toy?’

  ‘You go and play with that pop-bottle, it’s down there somewhere …’

  ‘But Jepper’s peeing in it. Mommy couldn’t we have a real toy like on

  Roderick watched the screwdriver. ‘Hey can I say something?’

  ‘See what I mean, Jeep, a talk-back toy. Must be worth a buck or two …’

  The conversation went on without him, stopping only now and then when the baby’s pink foot became entangled in the hoop of the earring, when the guitar got into the watery eye, or when a tiny voice announced that Jepper was drinking from the pop-bottle. Roderick waited, studying the skin-pictures on the arm next to him.

  A snake crawling out of the armpit is marked DON’T READ ON ME. It devours or disgorges an eagle holding a cane in one claw, a string of wienies in the other, and in its beak the Ace of Spades inscribed THEM. The wienies coiled around a heart, pierced by a two-ended sword. The man wielding it has one eye and wears a snail-shell on his head. At his feet is a broken anchor. He stands beneath a tree on which small skulls hang like fruit. The tree is on fire; out of the flames rises a mallard holding one end of a long scroll on whose folds are these letters:

  t s eliot lived on top a sleek bard

  The opposite end thickens into a giant hand grasping a dolphin which waves a Confederate flag; one of its stars has shot into the sky to threaten a kite. The kite string is held by a naked woman who crushes a scorpion underfoot. The scorpion grips a key, while the full moon above features a keyhole. From it an eye observes a mer-cupid armed with an oilcan, sprinkling oil upon a crowd of 13 crowned men. Though blindfolded they follow a tank along the road to a distant tower. The tank insignia is a rose inscribed FAI HOP CHAR. Its gun turret fires dice down the wrist, past a parachute …

  Jeep reached up to pick his teeth and the picture changed:

  Now a snake from a distant tower disgorges dice. An Ace of Spades is the insignia of a tank (FAITH HOPE CHARM) extending its chain of wienies to capture 13 blind kings. The fishtailed kite oils a flaming tree beneath which the one-eyed man embraces nakedness while the scorpion attacks a broken anchor. One sword-blade stabs the moon while along it charges a snail waving a flag, towards the point where the two ends of the scroll meet (beneath a winged umbrella) held by a single penguin.

  Roderick tried reading the scroll forwards and backwards. It made no more sense than anything else about this mad, bad family. What was a drab, anyway? What was keeling a pot? Why did they want to destroy him before he could even find out stuff like that?

  As he climbed up to the back window for a last look at the world, the invisible child started up again:

  ‘Mommy Jepper says he wants to have toys and live in a house with lots and lots of toys where you don’t have to pee in a pop-bottle and you get TV and real strong aluminium foil and pizza-burger mix and doesn’t just hide odours, can we huh?’

  ‘Be still now –’

  ‘And TV and microsnax and Uncle Whiskers Oldie Tymie – Owl It wasn’t me Mommy it was Jepper he – Ow!’

  It seemed a good opening. ‘This,’ said Roderick clearly, ‘is lots better than a house. I like living here.’

  None of the adults spoke. Then, ‘Yeah but they got TV and –’

  ‘Listen, TV ain’t much. All they got on TV is stories about people driving arou
nd in cars. Sometimes not even people, just the cars, this car drives down a street and then on a freeway and then on a bridge, then this other car sees it and starts chasing it, they both have to jump over a lot of bumps and then one of ’em smashes up, The End. Heck, what do you want that stuff for, here you got a real car. You even got another real car chasing you, look there.’

  Jeep looked back. ‘Isis wept, wouldn’t you know it? Forget about ’em for one minute and the gashers is all over you. Chet, make tracks, boy!’

  ‘Hang on,’ said the driver. ‘I’m gonna try something.’

  Roderick bounced up and down. ‘That’s just what they say on TV! And then everybody says Yahoo and Watch my dust and Wheels, do your stuff, and there’s a lot of banjo music and –’

  ‘Hush!’ Wrinkles frowned down at him.

  ‘But hey what’s Chet gonna try? Is he gonna race across the tracks right in front of this train? Or on this bridge that’s going up and he just makes it jumping the gap? Or, or maybe he just pulls off the road and hides in bushes and the cop car is so dumb it goes right on by, is that what he’s gonna –’

  Old Zip clamped her hand firmly over his speaker and kept it there. What Chet tried was pulling over and stopping, getting out to talk to the patrolman for a few minutes, and finally handing over some money.

  ‘Thanks,’ said the officer. ‘Don’t see much real money these days, not out here. Everybody’s so scared of hijackers they only carry cards, hell, all they can offer me is a free motel room or maybe a free meal in some Interstate joint, BLT and a malt, you call that a decent bribe? I mean the food’s all plastic and full of preservatives and chemicals you get a bad stomach just looking at –’

  Chet showed some gold teeth. ‘Yep, well, we gotta get moving.’

  ‘Oh sure, have a nice day and – oh yeah, and don’t let me catch you pitching pop-bottles out of the car again, okay?’

  In Gallonville the family went to work. First they parked the car next to a little patch of grass, then Old Jeb put three playing-cards in his shirt pocket and strolled away. Then the two young men left, jingling big bunches of car keys and talking about ‘recycling us some metal’. Finally Zeb, the young woman with earrings, took the children off to the bus station for ‘some street theatre’.

  ‘Street theatre,’ old Zip repeated, when only she and Roderick were left. That means they all gonna cry their eyes out until somebody gives them the money for a ticket to Omaha.’

  ‘Why are they going to Omaha?’

  ‘You don’t understand anything, do you?’ Zip set up a card table and two chairs, and stuck a sign to the side of the car:

  GIPSY ZEE

  – Knows the Past –

  – Tells the Future –

  NO CREDIT CARDS

  ‘Yeah, well if you let Jeep take and recycle me I never will understand anything.’

  ‘True. But so what?’ She tied a yellow-and-orange scarf over her head and sat down at the table. ‘Okay little puppet, I’ll make a deal with you. You keep your mouth shut and help us a little, and we won’t junk you.’

  They shook on it. Zip kept hold of his mechanical claw for a few seconds, peering at it.

  ‘Interesting hand you got there, you know? I see you’ve had a real hard life so far.’

  Roderick looked too. ‘You can see that?’

  ‘Sure. A real hard life, but it’s gonna get better soon. You’re gonna have lots of money – more than you ever dreamed of. You’ll get married, too, and have, let’s see, three children. First a boy, then two girls.’

  ‘Gosh, it just looks like a claw to me.’ He waggled the fingers. ‘Where do you see all this?’

  ‘And I see you have headaches – some head trouble, right?’

  ‘Yeah, right. Gosh!’

  ‘Now cross my palm with silver.’

  ‘I don’t have any silver, Zip.’

  She sighed. ‘Then skedaddle. Make way for a real customer.’

  He left. The first customer was a little deaf, and Roderick could hear Zip shouting: ‘… than you ever dreamed of. You’ll get married soon, and have three kids, first a girl then two boys … some trouble with your feet, right?’

  ‘Teeth? Say that’s dead right!’

  Roderick headed across the grass, to where a group of children were playing on swings. But as soon as they caught sight of him, the kids stopped playing and shouted:

  ‘Aah, dirty gipsy! Goaway ya dirty gipsy!’

  He changed direction and kept going.

  Towards sunset he came back, while Zip was just finishing the palm of a frail old man. He rose and tottered away, leaning on his cane, grinning to himself about the three children he was going to have. Zip took off her scarf.

  ‘Well, little puppet, what kind of day did you have? Make any money?’

  ‘Almost. I mean I was standing on a street corner and somebody came up and tried to stick a quarter in my eye. Then I went to the bus station to watch Zeb and the kids and the street theatre only when Zeb started crying I said don’t cry it’s a very good act and she said she’d give me a dollar to go away only she never did. Then I saw Jeb on this park bench with his three cards and all this money in both hands saying Find the Lady, boys, Find the Lady, see they put down a dollar and he gives them five if they –’

  ‘I know how it goes.’

  ‘Yeah well I saw how terrible they all were at the game so I said maybe he should give them three dollars if they’re right and one dollar if they’re wrong, see it works out the same, and Jeb whispered he’d give me a dollar to go away – but heck, what do I want a dollar for? I guess if everybody in the world wants me to go away for a dollar I could get rich if I just disappeared.’

  ‘Ha ha! You’ll learn, little puppet, you’ll learn. We’ll make a gipsy out of you yet.’

  What Roderick really wanted to do was help some grown-up do some grown-up job. And that night, he got his chance.

  Everybody had returned in good spirits and carrying thick wads of money. The young men had spent all day finding an amazing number of abandoned cars on the streets, tearing them down and selling them to the local junk-yard. Zeb and Jeb and Zip had all cleaned up too, so now there was nothing left to do but junk their own car, find a new one, and leave town.

  While they waited, Zip told Roderick all about the family.

  ‘You see, everybody has to have a name beginning with Z J or Ch, middling with i, e or ee, and ending with b, p or t. But no boy can have Z and no girl can have J.’

  ‘You mean there’s only 27 names in the whole –’

  ‘No, well we can add -er to a boy’s name if it’s the same as his older brother’s, and -erie to a girl’s if it’s the same as her older sister’s. And if a boy and girl look like they’re gonna get the same name, we just add -ette to the girl’s name. So you see we can have Jeet, Jeeter, Jeeterer and so on, just like we can have Chep, Cheperie, Chepette, Chepetterie …’

  Boys took middle letters from their mothers and ending letters from their fathers, and girls did the opposite. Roderick was only just beginning to see why Jeep was not Zip’s son nor her sister’s son when Jeep and Chet drove up in a big red car. They started spraying it with green paint at once. Jeep looked scared.

  The old man said, ‘What’s the big hurry?’

  ‘Aw shit, Chet went and ripped off this here car, just as we drove away I seen it was by the city hall, parked in the mayor’s parking spot. I think they seen us too – what’s that?’

  That was the sound of a wow-wow siren, getting closer. Jeep threw down his sprayer. ‘We better take her as she is, let’s go.’

  They piled in and started off. Old Jeb said, ‘Take her as she is, that’s rich that is. You ain’t done no more’n the back and the right side, how’s that gonna look? And nobody done the plates –’

  ‘Don’t worry about the plates,’ said Roderick quietly. ‘I –’

  Chet said, ‘Ra’s ball, who’s supposed to be drivin’ here, anyway? I got enough on my mind, tryin’ to figure all
them fancy one-way streets, half of ’em blocked off at the other end without – shit, they seen us!’

  They were crossing an intersection; a few blocks to the East they could see the flashing red-and-blue lights of the police car crossing another. It went North, they went South. ‘Holy Horus they done seen the wrong side of us, too. Now they know we got the mayor’s red – well, now what?’

  Roderick spoke up. ‘In a way it’s lucky they did see the red side. I mean, if we could use the one-way streets, sort of turning left all the time … hey, take a left.’

  ‘All I need, got enough human back-seat drivers, now the damn toys gotta start –’

  ‘Do like he says,’ Zip rumbled. ‘That’s one smart little cuss there.’

  Chet took a left. ‘Going round in circles, real smart. But then what we got to lose?’

  ‘Everything,’ said old Jeb, turning his face to the window. The baby kicked at his bald spot.

  ‘They seen us again!’

  And the police car saw them again and again, as both vehicles spiralled in through the one-way system, first seven blocks apart, then three, then two. When the police car was only one block away (and turning towards them) Roderick said: ‘Okay, now pull over on this next block – on the left. Turn out the lights and everybody duck down.’

  An instant after they obeyed, tyres shrieked at the final corner and the flashing colours approached. They could hear the two policemen arguing. A spotlight went on.

  ‘Okay, sure it’s a new Shrapnel, only it ain’t hizzonour’s, just take a look. His is Lady Macbeth Red, and this is, it looks like Tango Green. Anyways, look at the plate, his is Elmer two six one zero five eight niner seven, while this here is Lolita six eight five zero one niner two three, we’re wasting time …’

  ‘Have it your way … thin air …’

  The police car wow-wowed away. They were safe.

  Zip said later, ‘I told you he was a smart little cuss. I bet Roderick’s got more brains in one little silly-cone chip than you got in your whole head, Chet.’

  A gold tooth grinned back at Roderick, wrinkles smiled, a watery eye winked, and a tattooed hand patted his dome. The children smiled in their sleep, the woman with earrings blew him a kiss, and even the baby seemed to wave its foot in congratulations. Roderick was a gipsy hero, and now there was no question of sending him to the junk-yard.