Death on Credit

by Louis-Ferdinand Celine

  We explored every valley, every path and bypath. I looked at the sky a good deal to distract my attention. It changed colour with the tides… During calm spells pink clouds came up, on the land side and on the horizon… and then the fields turned blue…

  The way the town was laid out, the roofs sloped down towards the river, it looked like an avalanche… an enormous herd of cattle, all black and pressed together in the mists that blew down from the open country… all steaming in the yellow and violet fog.

  She was always making detours and arranging for long rests at propitious moments. It didn’t get her anywhere, it didn’t make me open my heart… Even when we spent hours coming home through little narrow streets… Even one evening when it was already dark on the bridge that goes to Stroud… We looked down at the river… A long time, the eddies swirling around the arches… we heard all the bells… from the villages… far far away in the distance… Then she took my hand and kissed it… just like that… I was all stirred up, I didn’t react… I didn’t move… No one could see us… I didn’t say a word, I didn’t bat an eyelash… She never suspected… It wasn’t easy to resist… The harder it was for me, the stronger I became… She wasn’t going to soften me, the bloodsucker, even if she were a hundred times as pretty! Anyway, she was going to bed with that little ape! When you’re young, it makes you puke to see the old fossils they shack up with… If I’d said anything, I’d have tried to find out why it was him… why him when he was so ugly? It was incongruous!… Maybe I was slightly jealous… I guess I was! But it’s true that he was horrible to look at and listen to… with his little short arms… flapping like stumps… all the time, for no reason… He waved them around so much he seemed to have ten of them… It made you scratch just to look at him… He was always snapping his fingers, clapping his hands, twirling his cane, crossing his arms… but just for a second… Bzing! He was off again… like a jumping jack… what a guy… twitching and jerking… like a loony chicken…

  She, on the contrary, emanated grace, every movement was lovely… She was a mirage of charm… When she left the room, you felt a void in your soul, your heart slipped down to the basement in sadness… She had every reason to be downcast, she might have shown signs of worry. During the first months I always saw her happy, patient, untiring with the snotnoses and the idiot… They weren’t always a pleasure to handle… Her life was no joke… With her beauty, she should have been able to marry a bag of money… She must have been bewitched… or taken some kind of a vow. And he certainly wasn’t rich! It stuck in my craw, in the end I couldn’t think of anything else…

  For Nora the idiot was an awful nuisance, she had every reason to be exhausted at the end of the afternoon… Just wiping his nose, taking him to piss, keeping him from getting run over, from swallowing everything in sight… it was really a rotten chore…

  She was never in much of a hurry. As soon as the weather picked up a little, we stayed out even later, we dawdled around the village and by the river bank… Jongkind didn’t drool as much when we were out walking as at home, only he swiped things, matches for instance… The minute you left him alone for a second, he set fire to the curtains… Not to be bad… he’d come and tell us right away… He’d want us to see how pretty the little flames were.

  The shopkeepers in town saw us passing so often they all got to know us… They were “grocers”… that’s what they call them… something like épiciers… That’s one word I actually learnt… In their windows they piled up regular mountains of apples and beets, and whole valleys of spinach on their enormous counters… The stuff went all the way up to the ceiling… the hills ran from one shop to the next… cauliflower, margarine, artichokes… It made Jongkind happy to see those things. He’d jump up on a pumpkin, he’d bite into it like a horse…

  The shopkeepers thought I was crazy too… They asked her how I was getting along… the minute I turned my back, they made motions to Nora… with their fingers, they’d tap their heads… “Better? Better?” they whispered. “No, no!” she answered sadly… I wasn’t any better, damn it! I’d never be better!… It gave me the creeps the way they carried on!… So worried… so sympathetic…

  When we went shopping, there was one little thing I’d always noticed… it puzzled me quite a lot… Those bottles of whisky… In the course of a week we always brought back one and often two… And sometimes brandy too… And I never saw the stuff on the table!… Or in the parlour!… Or in the glasses!… Not a single drop!… We always drank water, absolutely straight… So where did the booze go? Was there a tippler in the house? I had strong suspicions! I kept saying to myself, somebody’s lapping it up!… There’s one spoilt brat around here that doesn’t feel the cold!… The way he’s pouring it down, he doesn’t have to worry about rheumatism!… That’s a cinch!

  * * *

  The weather began to improve, the winter was over… It had passed in walks, games, cross-country races, storms and masturbation…

  To get a little more to eat, I did a little sleight-of-hand in the shops… They thought I was so simple they never suspected my tricks… I put on the innocent-mischief act, I disappeared… I played peekaboo with Jongkind behind the posts and counters. I snitched a little sausage, an egg here and there, a few crackers, a banana or two… just a few odds and ends… Nobody ever bothered me…

  In March we had another rainy spell, the sky was heavy, crushing, it gets on your nerves in the end after all those months… It weighs on everything, on the houses, the trees, it falls right down to the ground, you walk on it, you’re sopping wet, you walk in the clouds, in mists that melt into slush, in the soup, on broken bottles… It’s disgusting!…

  The farthest we went on our walks was past Stroud, on paths, through woods and over hills, to an enormous estate where they raise pheasants. They weren’t wild at all, they roamed around by the dozens. They pecked like chickens on a big lawn with some kind of monument in the middle, an enormous black block of coal, standing upright, tremendous, almost as big as a house. It dominated the landscape… We never went any farther… After that there wasn’t any path…

  One place I was sorry I couldn’t go in the evening was the waterfront at the bottom of the town, especially on Saturday… Nora would have been delighted to please me by going there more often… But it was dangerous, again on account of Jongkind, he tripped over the ropes, half a dozen times he almost drowned himself… On the whole it was better for us to stick to the heights, and best of all, to the open country, where you see the dangers in the distance, big dogs, bicycles, and so on…

  One afternoon, just by chance, as we were looking for something new, we climbed a different hill, the one that went up toward Bastion 15… on the other side of the cemetery… where Scotsmen, the 18th Regiment, drilled every Thursday… we watched them drill, and they weren’t fooling… They really gave themselves a workout, marching up and down behind their bagpipes and trumpets. They churned up the ground, they sank in deeper and deeper. They went right on parading, harder than ever… They were up to their shoulders…

  Our walk wasn’t over, we went on through the valley. Right in the middle of the fields we saw something being built… Lots of workmen! They were putting up a big house… We looked through the fence… there was an enormous sign… it was easy to decipher… They were building another school… A magnificent location between the fort and the villas… And a clearing for games, at least four times as big as ours… The track had already been laid out and covered with cinders… the little flags were in place at all four corners… the goals were marked… Everything was just about ready… The builders didn’t seem to be lying down on the job, they were almost finished… Three stories were done already… The place seemed to be swarming with workmen… The name was written in red letters: “The Hopeful Academy” – for boys of all ages… It was quite a shock!…

  Nora Merrywin was flabbergasted… She stood there gaping like a statue… Finally we left on
the double. She was in a big hurry to report the news to the little stinker… I didn’t give a damn about their business, but I realized that this was a real tragedy, a catastrophe!… We didn’t see either of them all day… It was me who fed Jongkind, at the table after the other kids…

  Next day Nora was still white as a sheet, she was all upset. She, who was usually so charming, so playful, so mild-mannered, was making movements almost like him, snapping her fingers all the time. It looked like she hadn’t slept, she couldn’t sit still, she stood up, went upstairs, came down again to talk to him… And then she’d leave again…

  The old geezer sat motionless, he’d even stopped blinking, he was in a daze. He stared into space. He didn’t eat, he only drank his coffee… He kept pouring himself whole cups… Between gulps he’d smack his right palm with his left fist, with all his might… Smack! Smack! And that was all…

  Two days later he went up with us as far as the Scotsmen… He wanted to see for himself… They were making great strides in fixing up the “Hopeful”. They’d done the track over and mowed the cricket field… Besides, they had two tennis courts and even a miniature golf course… They were sure to open by Easter…

  The overgrown kid went jumping up and down by the fence… He wanted to look over… He was a runt, he couldn’t see much… He looked through the cracks… We found a ladder… He motioned us to keep on going, he’d catch up with us on our grounds… He did actually come back… He wasn’t so frisky any more. He sat down beside his wife, this thing had knocked him cold… He’d had an eyeful of the wonders of Hopeful College.

  I could see what this competition meant! Our kids were taking it on the lam already!… They thought Meanwell stank… And now?… What was to prevent them from leaving?… It was a hopeless catastrophe!… I couldn’t catch what the old folks were saying, but the tone was mighty gloomy… The three of us went back and looked at the scaffolding… They were building walls for kicking practice. The place was an orgy of luxury… While gazing at all the splendour, the old man stuck his fingers up his nose, three at a time in his confusion, trying to think… At the table he was in a trance. I guess he couldn’t see much future ahead… He let the gravy get cold. He chewed so hard on his false teeth that they popped out… He put them on the table, right beside his plate… He didn’t know what was going on… He kept mumbling snatches of prayers… and thoughts… Then he says “Amen! Amen!” Suddenly he gets up… He rushes to the door. He takes the stairs four at a time… The kids were in stitches… His teeth were still on the table. Nora didn’t know which way to look… Jongkind came right over, he bent down, he was foaming at the mouth, he sucked up the false teeth… They’d never laughed so hard. We made him spit them out again.

  * * *

  Discipline was shot. The kids did what they felt like… The old man was afraid to say anything… Same with Nora, in the house or outside… To play all those strenuous games there were only ten of us left… to make up a team on Thursday we’d pick up brats on the road, anybody we ran into, little hoodlums we didn’t even know… We had to hold out till Easter…

  The days got a little longer… To keep my parents from getting impatient I wrote postcards, I made up fairy tales, I said I was beginning to talk… They all congratulated me… It was almost spring… Jongkind caught cold, he coughed for two weeks… We were afraid to take him so far after that. We spent whole afternoons outside the fortified castle, an old ruin full of echoes, caves, and dungeons… At the slightest shower we took refuge under the vaulting with the pigeons. That was their home, there were hundreds of them, very friendly and tame… they’d come and coo right in our hands, they’re comical characters, they strut, they make eyes at you, they recognize you right away… What Jongkind liked best was the sheep… he played with them for all he was worth. He’d run after the young ones that stumble and topple over. He’d roll with them in the wet grass, he’d bleat when they bleated… He was in ecstasy… he turned into a regular animal… He went home wet to the skin… and coughed for another week…

  There was lots of clear weather now… new breezes, sweet, enchanting smells. Daffodils and daisies quivered in every field… The sky went back where it belonged and kept its clouds to itself like everybody else. No more of that pea soup that never stops coming down, that pukes all over the countryside… Easter was coming in May, the kids were bursting with impatience… They were going home to see their parents… It would be time for me to leave too… My stay was coming to an end. I was quietly steeling myself… when we received a registered envelope, a letter from my uncle with money in it and a few words… He told me to stay on, to have patience for another three months… it would be much wiser… Uncle Édouard was a good guy! It was a marvellous surprise!… He’d done it off his own bat… From sheer kindness of heart… He knew my father… He could imagine the tragedies that would break out if I came home like a dope, without any English to my name… It was sure to be pretty lousy…

  All in all I was thoroughly recalcitrant, ungrateful, repulsive. I could have made a bit of an effort, it wouldn’t have killed me… to give him pleasure… But just as I was about to give in, I felt the gall coming back in my throat… the whole rotten business rose up… the whole stinking mess… To hell with it! I’d be damned if I’d learn anything!… I’d come home crummier than ever! I’d been buttoning up for months!… Hah, that’s the ticket, don’t talk to anybody, not here and not over there!… If you’re little, you’ve got to be tough… Open your mouth, and they’ll step on you. That’s the stuff, if you ask me!… You’re not very big? So get hard! I could keep my trap shut for another few years! Absolutely! I only had to think of the Gorloges, of little André, of Berlope, and even old lady Divonne with her piano playing, her eighth notes and her Moonlight… Balls! Time didn’t do a bit of good!… They came back at me sharper than ever, and even a damn sight sourer… Bah!… My head was still full of it – the thousands of beatings, the slaps, the swift kicks… Christ! And all their stinking rottenness, and my buddies and the fags and the floozies and all their lowdown tricks!… What was I supposed to do? Think about a lot of balls? “Ever and ever!” like the little stinker?… Amen! Amen!… Bullshit!… I made faces. I imitated them all by myself! I made a face like Antoine when he was shitting in the can… I shat in his face… Language? Language? Speak? Speak? About what?…

  * * *

  I’d never seen Nora dressed in a light colour, a tight-fitting blouse, pink satin… It brought her tits right out… The movement of her hips was terrific too… The way they swayed, the mystery of the arse…

  It was coming on to the end of April… She tried again to cheer me up, to win me over… One afternoon I see her coming out for our walk with a book… A great big one, some kind of Bible, to judge by the size and weight… We go to the usual place… we settle down… She opens the book on her knees… I can’t help looking on… The effect on kid Jongkind was magical… He plunged his nose into it… he didn’t budge… The colours fascinated him… This book was full of pictures, marvellous illustrations… I didn’t need to know how to read it, I knew all about it… I could see the princes, the upraised lances, the knights… the purple, the greens, the scarlets, all the armour studded with rubies… The whole shooting match… It was a good job… Well done… I knew good work when I saw it, it was tops… She turned the pages slowly… She began telling the story. She wanted to read it to us word for word… Her fingers were terrific… like beams of light on every page that passed… I’d have liked to lick them… to suck them… I was under the spell… Just the same I didn’t say boo… I looked at the book all by myself… I didn’t ask a single question… I didn’t repeat a word… what most amazed Jongkind was the beautiful gilt edges… they dazzled him, he went to pick daisies, he came back and strewed them all over us, he filled the margins with them… The two most marvellous pages were in the middle of the book… A whole battle spread all over… an amazing turmoil… Dromedaries, elephants, T
emplars charging!… A hecatomb of cavalry!… All the barbarians routed!… It was really marvellous… I couldn’t stop looking… I was almost going to talk… I was going to ask questions… Bing!… I tighten up, I get sore!… Rotten luck!… Another second!… But I didn’t say boo!… I clutched the grass… To hell with it, no more stories for me!… I was vaccinated!… What about little André? Wasn’t he the prize cocksucker?… Hadn’t he screwed me good? Hadn’t he?… Some skunk he turned out to be! Didn’t I remember plenty of legends? And my own damn foolishness? Am I right or am I wrong? Once you get into the habit, where does it get you?… So stop batting my brains out! Leave me alone!… Leave me to my bread and onions!… I’d rather be unhappy than listen to stories!… OK, that does it! It’s all settled!… I even proved I was a man, I cleared out with Jongkind, I let her read her book by herself… completely flummoxed in the grass…

  The idiot and I ran down to the river… We came up by way of the pigeons… When we got back, I looked at her face… She was on her way home with her pictures… She certainly thought I was pig-headed… She was certainly sad… She was in no hurry to get back… We started off very slowly… We stopped near the bridge… It had already struck six… She looked at the water… The Medway has a strong current… When the tides are high, it gets really wild… It comes down in big eddies. The bridge shakes in the whirlpools… The water is hoarse, it makes hollow sounds… it gasps in big yellow knots…

  Nora leant way over, then she quickly raised her head… She looked far away into the distance, at the day sinking behind the houses on the coast… It threw a light on her face… A sadness that made her features tremble… It grew stronger… she couldn’t stand it, it made her all fragile… She had to close her eyes…