Death on Credit

by Louis-Ferdinand Celine

  Ah! I remember the way all the same… I take the Rue Saint-Honoré… then the Rue Saint-Roch on the left… Rue Gomboust… then straight ahead. I reach the Passage gate… It’s not closed yet on account of the heat… All the neighbours are there… in their shirtsleeves with their collars open, outside their shops… taking the air… chewing the fat from chair to chair, astraddle, on their doorsteps… I’m still kind of tipsy… It’s obvious that I can’t walk straight… That throws them. I never got drunk!… They’d never seen me that way… They’re amazed!… “Hey, Ferdinand!” they holler, “You land a job? The frogs having a party?… You run into a cloud? Been struck by a cyclone?…” A lot of balls anyway… Visios was rolling up his awning, he called after me: “Say, Ferdinand. Your mother’s been down here at least twenty times since seven o’clock, asking if we hadn’t seen you! So help me! She’s mad as a hornet!… Where’ve you been keeping yourself anyway?”

  So I stagger over to the shop. It wasn’t closed at all… Hortense was standing in the hall… She must have been waiting for me…

  “Oh, if you could see your mother! The state she’s in! Poor woman! It’s dreadful! She’s been out of her mind since six o’clock!… They say there’s been a riot in the Tuileries! She’s sure you were in it!… She went out this afternoon for the first time when she heard the rumours… She saw a runaway horse on the Rue Vivienne! She came home more dead than alive! She was all in a frenzy! I’ve never seen her so upset!…” Hortense herself was in a terrible state just telling me about it… Her face was all in a sweat and she was dabbing at it with her big filthy apron. It left her streaked with green and yellow and black… I take the stairs four at a time… I go to my room… My mother was there on the bed, prostrated, completely beside herself, her smock unbuttoned… her petticoats pulled up to her waist… She was still bathing her leg with Turkish towels. She rolled them up into big wads, the water dripped down on the floor… “Ah!” she starts up… “So there you are!” She’d thought they’d made hash of me…

  “Your father’s in a terrible rage! Oh, the poor man! He was just going to the police station! Where on earth have you been?…”

  Just then I hear my father coming out of the toilet. He comes slowly up the stairs, adjusting his suspenders… He straightens out the bandage on his boils… First he doesn’t say a word… He pretends not to see me… He goes back to his typewriter… He types with one finger… He puffs like a porpoise, he sponges his forehead… It’s stifling, that’s a fact… absolutely suffocating… He stands up… He takes the towel from the nail… He splashes water all over his face… He’s done in!… He comes back!… He gives me a cross-eyed look… He looks at my mother too, stretched out on the bed… “Good Lord, Clémence, cover yourself!…” he bellows at her, furious on account of her leg… Here we go again!… He motions at her! He thinks I’m looking at her bare legs… She doesn’t see what he’s excited about… She’s innocent, she has no sense of shame… He raises his hands to high heaven… He’s scandalized, outraged! She’s naked up to her stomach… Finally she pulls her skirt down… She changes her position a little… She turns over on the mattress… I want to say something… something to put an end to the embarrassment… I’ll say something about the heat… You can hear the cats fucking… way over there on the glass roof… chasing each other… jumping over chasms between tall chimneys…

  A breath of air comes up… an honest-to-goodness breeze!… Glory be!… “It’s cooling off!…” my mother says right away. “Well, it’s none too soon!… You know, Auguste, I can feel it in my leg that it’s going to rain!… I’m positive!… It’s always the same pain… A drawing pain in the arse… That’s the sign all right, it never fails… Do you hear, Auguste, it’s going to rain!…”

  “Ah! Can’t you shut up a minute! Let me work! Christ! Can’t you stop gassing the whole time?”

  “Why, Auguste, I haven’t said a word! It’s getting on for two o’clock! My goodness, child, and we aren’t in bed yet!”

  “As if I didn’t know it! Christ almighty arsehole blazes! I know it’s two o’clock! Is it my fault?… Pretty soon it’ll be three! Hell fire! And four! And thirty-six! And twelve! Blast it to stinking hell!… Why do I have to be badgered day and night? Is it right? Is it fair?…” He gives his contraption a terrifying blow, enough to smash all the type, to flatten out the keyboard… He turns round. He’s blue in the face… Now he turns on me… He gives it to me straight: “Wah!” he bellows. He roars at the top of his lungs: “You give me a pain in the arse, the whole lot of you. D’you hear me?… That’s right! And you, you dirty little louse! You no-good bum! Where’ve you been again? Since eight o’clock this morning? Well? Are you going to answer me? Speak up, damn it!…”

  At first I didn’t say a thing… All of a sudden I remember what I’d done with the stuff I’d bought… It was true, I hadn’t brought home a thing! Jesus Christ! What a mess!…

  I’d forgotten all about the ham!… I’d forgotten everything… Now I begin to catch the tune! Christ! “What about your mother’s money?… And the food you were supposed to be bringing home?… Well? Ahh!” He was exultant. “You see, Clémence?… Your handiwork… Now do you see what you’ve done… with your idiotic leniency, your stupid blindness… You trust that little thug with money! Your unpardonable trustfulness!… Your idiotic credulity!… You give him money!… You hand him your purse! Why not give him everything?… Give him the whole house!… Why not?… Ah! Ah! I predicted it, didn’t I!… He’ll shit in your hand! Ah! Ah! He’s drunk it all up! He’s guzzled it all down!… He stinks of liquor! He’s drunk! He’s caught the syphilis! And the clap! He’ll bring us the cholera! Then you’ll be satisfied!… Ah! Well, you’ll reap the fruits! You and nobody else, you hear me?… Whose fault is it if we’ve a stinker for a son? Yours!… You can have him! All for yourself!… Lousy, stinking, cock-sucking life!…”

  He winds himself up again!… He surpasses himself! He goes all out!… He rips his shirt open… He bares his chest…

  “Thunderation arsehole Jesus! Why, he’s a scoundrel through and through! He’ll stop at nothing!… It’s high time you realized!… You can’t trust him with anything!… Not with a single centime! Not with a sou!… You promised me a dozen times! Twenty times! A hundred thousand times! But you had to start right again! Ah! Ah! You’re incorrigible!”

  He bounces up from his stool… He comes clear across the room and shouts at me point-blank. He blows spit in my face, he puffs himself up like a balloon… two inches from my nose… Here comes his hurricane act!… I see his eyes right up against mine… Strangely repulsed… Quivering in their sockets… It’s a tempest between the two of us… He stammers so furiously that the spit flies thick and fast… he’s drowning me! He clouds my vision, I’m dazed… He flails around so violently he tears the bandages off his neck. That only makes him thrash harder… He twists around and bellows at me… He grabs hold of me… I push him back and recoil… I’ve got my dander up too… I don’t want the dirty bastard to touch me… That stops him for a second…

  “What?” he goes. “What’s this?… Ah, if I didn’t control myself!…”

  “Go right ahead!” I say… I can feel the gall rising…

  “Ah, you little skunk! You defy me? You little pimp! You swine! The insolence of it! The shame! Do you want to kill us? Huh? Is that it?… Why don’t you say so right away?… You little coward! You bum!…” He fires all this in my face… And then some more incantations…

  “Suffering arsehole Christ almighty! My poor dear, what did we do to produce such vermin? As corrupt as three dozen jailbirds!… Profligate! Scoundrel! Idler! And then some! He’s calamity personified! Good for nothing except to rob us and clean us out! A pestilence! Gouge us without mercy!… That’s all his gratitude! For a whole life of sacrifice! Two lives of torment! We’re nothing but a couple of old fools! We’re the ones that get it in the neck! Every time!… Go on, say it again, say it, you
poisonous toad! Come on, out with it. Admit you want to be the death of us!… That you want us to die of grief! And misery! Let me hear you say it at least before you finish me off! Go on, you stinking scum!”

  At this point my mother gets up and limps across the room, trying to come between us…

  “Auguste! Auguste! Listen to me, my goodness! Listen to me, I beg of you! Come, Auguste! You’re going to be laid up again! Think of me, Auguste! Think of all of us! You’re going to make yourself sick! Ferdinand! Go away, child! Go outside! Don’t stay here!…”

  I didn’t budge an inch. It was he who sat down again…

  He mops himself off, he grunts!… He strikes one or two keys… Then he starts to bellow again… He turns towards me, he points a finger at me… He takes a solemn tone…

  “Ah yes, today I can admit it!… How I regret it! I was weak! I’m to blame for not having disciplined you with a vengeance! Christ, yes! Disciplined you! Before it was too late! When you were twelve, do you hear, at the latest. That’s when I should have collared you and locked you up good! That’s right! No later! But I was weak!… Locked you up in a reform school… That’s the ticket! They’d have taught you a thing or two!… And things wouldn’t have come to such a pass!… But now the die is cast!… Our doom is sealed! Too late! Too late! Do you hear me, Clémence? Much too late! This blackguard is incorrigible!… It’s your mother that prevented me! And now you’ll pay for it, my dear!”

  He points at her as she limps around the room, sighing at every step. “It was your mother! Yes, your mother! If she’d listened to me, you’d never have sunk so low… Jumping Jesus, no! Ah, Christ almighty!…”

  He pounds the keyboard again… wicked punches with both fists… He’s going to demolish it for sure.

  “Do you hear me, Clémence? Do you hear me? I’ve told you often enough!… Didn’t I warn you? I knew how it was going to be!”

  He’s going to explode again… His rage is coming back… He puffs up all over… his head and his eyes are bulging… all you can see is the whites… She’s stumbling in all directions, she can’t stand up any more. She climbs back on the bed… She collapses… She hikes her petticoats way up… She uncovers her thighs, the bottom of her belly, her gash and bush… She writhes with pain… She gently massages herself… She’s bent double…

  “Jesus, cover up! Cover up, will you, it’s disgusting!…”

  “Please, please, I beg you, Auguste! You’re going to make us all sick!…” She was at the end of her rope. She was beside herself…

  “Sick? Sick?…” That shoots through him like a rocket! A magic word!… “Ho ho! Christ, that’s the last straw!” He bursts out laughing… “That’s a revelation!…” He’s off the handle again… “But it’s him! Can’t you see that, you poor innocent?… It’s this little hoodlum… My Lord, can’t you get it through your noodle… it’s this infernal little villain that’s making us all sick! This slimy viper! He’s after our hide! He’s always been plotting against us! He wants us dead and buried! That’s right!… We’re in his way! He doesn’t even bother to hide it!… He wants the old folks to conk out!… It’s obvious! It’s plain as day! And the sooner the better! His behaviour is unbelievable! He’s in a hurry! It’s our wretched two cents he’s after! Our miserable crust of bread he’s got his eye on! You haven’t noticed? That’s it, all right! The little scum knows what he’s doing! The scoundrel! The bloodsucker! He knows! He’s got eyes in his head! He sees how we’re wasting away! He’s rotten through and through! Just take it from me! I know him if you don’t! Even if he is my son!…”

  He starts trembling again, his whole carcass is quaking, he’s beside himself… He clenches his fists… His stool is creaking and dancing… He’s winding up, he’s going to lunge… He comes back blowing up my nose… more insults… more and more of them… I feel things coming up in me too… And the heat besides… I pass my two hands over my face… Suddenly everything looks cock-eyed!… I can’t see straight… Just one jump… I’m over him! I lift up the big heavy machine… I lift it way up. And wham!… I give it to him full in the face! He hasn’t got time to parry!… He goes over under the impact, the whole business topples!… Table, man, chair, the whole shebang in all directions!… They fall on the floor and scatter… I’m caught up in the dance… I stumble, I fall… That does it, I’ve got to finish the stinking bastard! Bzing! He’s down again… I’m going to smash his kisser!… So he can’t talk any more!… I’m going to smash his whole face… I punch him on the ground… He bellows… He gurgles… That’ll do! I dig into the fat on his neck… I’m on my knees on top of him… I’m tangled up in his bandages… both my hands are caught. I pull. I squeeze. He’s still groaning… He’s wriggling… I weigh down on him… He’s disgusting… He squawks… I pound him… I massacre him… I’m squatting down… I dig into the meat… It’s soft… He’s drooling… I tug… I pull off a big chunk of moustache… He bites me, the stinker!… I gouge into the holes… I’m sticky all over… my hands skid… he heaves… he slips out of my grip. He grabs me round the neck. He squeezes my windpipe… I squeeze some more. I knock his head against the tiles… He goes limp… he’s soft under my legs… He sucks my thumb… he stops sucking… Phew! I raise my head for a minute… I see my mother’s face on a level with mine… She’s staring at me, her eyes twice their size… Her eyes are so big I start wondering where I am!… I let go… Another head appears from the stairs!… Over the corner of the banister! That one’s Hortense! Must be! It’s her all right! She lets out a terrible scream: “Help! Help!” She almost splits a gut… That does something to me… I let go of my old man… One jump… and I’m on top of Hortense!… I’m going to strangle her! I want to see how she wriggles! She struggles… I daub her face… I close her mouth with the palms of my hands… The pus and blood from the boils squash on her face and drip down… She gurgles louder than Papa… I latch on to her… She struggles… She’s hefty… I want to choke her too… It’s amazing… It’s a hidden world that spasms in your hands… It’s life!… Get a good feel of it… I knock her skull stubbornly against the banister… It thuds… There’s blood in her hair… She yells! It’s split! I dig a big finger into her eye… I haven’t got the right hold… She breaks loose… She’s up again… She gets away… She’s a strong one… She clatters down the stairs… I can hear her yelling outside… raising hell… screaming at the top of her lungs… “Murder, murder!…” I hear echoes, voices. A crowd comes running… they gallop into the shop, they jostle at the bottom of the stairs… They push and shove on every landing… An invasion… I hear my name… Here they come!… They go into a huddle on the second floor… I look out… Somebody’s coming… It’s Visios! He’s the first one to pop out… He plunges in from the landing… There he is, firm, menacing, resolute… He points a revolver at me… straight at my chest… The other bastards come around behind me, encircle me, grunting, bawling the hell out of me… Hurling threats at me, insults… The old man is still out cold… still on the floor… with a little trickle of blood flowing from his head… I’m not angry any more… I don’t give a damn… Visios bends down, touches the bundle, Papa grunts and moans a little…

  The bastards jostle me again, push me around, they’re stronger… They’re pretty brutal… They drag me down the stairs… they won’t even listen to my mother… They push me into the room downstairs… I take the blows as they come… I’ve stopped resisting… I get some from everybody, especially in the balls… I can’t fight back… The wickedest of the lot is Visios!… I get a kick square in the stomach… I stagger… I don’t double up… I stay put, glued to the wall… They leave, spitting in my face as they go… They lock me in.

  I’m all alone… pretty soon I begin to tremble. My hands… my legs… my face… inside… all over… I have a lousy sick feeling, a panic in my kidneys… like everything was falling apart, coming off in shreds… like a hurricane was shaking me… My whole carcass is rattling, my tee
th are chattering… I’m dead to the world!… I’ve got a spasm in my arsehole… I shit in my pants… My heart’s pounding so hard I can’t hear what’s going on… I can’t make out what they’re doing… My knees are knocking together… I stretch out on the floor… I don’t know what’s what… I’m scared… I feel like yelling… I haven’t knocked him off, have I? Shit! To hell with that… but my arsehole is opening and closing… A spasm… it’s awful.

  I think of Papa again… The sweat’s dripping off me and what’s left is cold… I swallow it through my nose… I’m bleeding… The cocksucker scratched me!… I wasn’t very rough… I’d never have expected him to be so weak, so mushy… It’s amazing… it was easy to squeeze… I remember how I was kneeling there with my fingers locked in front… the slobber… and the way he suckled my thumb… I can’t stop shaking… I’m trembling all over… All you’ve got to do is squeeze!… My face is twitching all over… I groan! Now I can feel every one of those bastards’ blows… I’m scared shitless!… It’s my arsehole that hurts worst… It keeps on twisting and tightening… It aches like hell.