Death on Credit

by Louis-Ferdinand Celine

  “Enough! Enough of your insolence! You’re insolent whelps, the whole lot of you!… I want the Director!… Génitron Courtial!… Can’t you hear me?… Him and nobody else!… You hear me?… He knows! He knows!… Génitron! Heavens! He’s expecting me!… He wants to see me immediately!… We have an appointment!… An appointment!…” He threw her off in his rage… She went careering into the wall…

  “Enough! Enough! I want to talk to him!… You can’t stop me!… Who’s going to stop me?…” He hiked up his soutane… He rummaged through his pockets… He took out little scraps of paper… crumbs, newspaper clippings… He stayed like that on his knees in feverish confusion for a long, long time!… He spluttered, he counted the papers one by one… he smoothed them out… he flattened them… He rolled some of them into little balls…

  “Hush! Hush!…” he started again… He didn’t want us to move. “There it is!… It’s authentic!… What? Haven’t you any eyes in your head?… It’s a genuine Pharaoh manuscript!… This here!…” He hands me a pinch of it…

  “There you are, my boy!…” He pressed a ball… two balls… into the hollow of my hand… “The Director! The Director!…”

  Hell, there he goes again… his fury was mounting!… He reared up… he jumped back on the table… he shouted for Courtial at the top of his lungs!… He put the hunting horn to his lips… He blew one big blast and several raucous farts… and then a few squeaks and short hiccups!…

  “He’s coming… He hears me!…” Ten times, twenty times in succession… He grabs me by the coat, he slobbers in my face, he blows in my eyes… Christ, does he stink!… In gusts he tells me how he’d got there… He’d got off at Vry-Controvert, the stop on the narrow-gauge line, twenty kilometres from Blême! “They” were after him… He pesters the life out of me, trying to prove it…

  “Hush, hush!…” he says again… “The Powers!… Yes indeed!” He goes back to the window… He looks out to see if they’re coming… He hides behind the shutter, growling… He bounces out again… He scans the approaches… He pisses in the fireplace… He doesn’t button his trousers… He comes back to the blind… He must have seen the Powers… He mulls… He grunts like a wild boar…

  “Grrr! Grrr!” he goes… “Never!… Grrr! Grrr!… Never!…” He turns on me… He shakes his fists in my face… He’s certainly changed since the Palais-Royal… How ferocious he’s become!… They must have given him scorpions to eat… in the nuthouse… Hell! He’s wild!… He’s been drinking vitriol!… He never stops!… He lunges in all directions!… He bangs into the walls… He threatens… he challenges!… The old lady and I have given up trying to say anything… We’re licked… That loony padre is beginning to give me a pain… I wouldn’t mind laying him out with a clout from behind!… I catch sight of a handy pole beside the window… We use it as a poker… with a big long tip and a nice cast-iron handle… That would settle his hash… We’d have another crime on our hands… I motion the old lady to get out of the way… just for a second… to stand against the wall!… Shit!… If only he’d shut up… so I wouldn’t have to lay hands on him… Christ, what a rotten cocksucker!… What an ugly stupid bastard!… Why can’t the stinker pipe down?… Why can’t the nutcase leave us alone?… He won’t believe us… He thinks we’re hiding him… Hell, this is infernal!… I tell the old lady:

  “It can’t be helped! This has gone too far! I’m fed up!… I’m going to show him!…”

  “Don’t, Ferdinand!… Don’t do it!… I beg you!…”

  “Oh yes, I will! Maybe that’ll straighten him out… Maybe he’ll understand… The damn fool has this bee in his bonnet… He’s bonkers… he’s bats… Then we’ll throw him out!…” He was still thrashing around, knocking into everything!… He lifted up the whole table… and take it from me, that table was a monument!… That Hottentot was strong!…

  “The Director!… The Director!…” he started bellowing again… “I’ve given all I had!…” He went down on his knees again, he kissed his crucifix… He crossed himself a thousand times… He stayed there in an ecstasy… his arms stretched out on both sides… He made a crucifix of himself!… And then up like a spring… And off again on tiptoes!… His eyes fixed on the ceiling!… He started up again with the bullshit…

  She tugged at me, she didn’t want me to show him the stiff in the kitchen… She made motions… “No, no!” This nonsense had been going on long enough… I had it up to here…

  “Come this way!…” I grabbed him by the hunting horn… and bam!… I dragged him to the kitchen… Ah, the stinker!… He won’t believe us!… No!… Well, he’s going to get an eyeful… All nuts are the same… They thrive on opposition… “Let’s go! Come on, you lug!…” I give him a kick in the arse!… That makes him bounce!… It’s his turn to want more!… Ah! I can get mean too!… He gripes! He grumbles!… I push him down the hallway…

  “Whoopsy-daisy!… Take the candle, Madame, take two… Let him have a good look… an eyeful… We don’t want him coming back for seconds!…” When we get to the kitchen, I go down on my knees… and a little lower… I show him the body in the balloon cover right under his nose… It’s right there in front of him… I put the other candle down beside it…

  “There you are… can you see all right?… What do you say now, you moron?… You going to stop wasting our time?… Is it him all right?… You recognize him?… You don’t?…” He comes close… he sniffs… he’s suspicious… He blows all up and down the legs… He lowers his head… He says a prayer… He goes on and on… Then he turns around… He looks at me some more… He starts praying again!…

  “Well? Did you get a good look?… D’you finally catch on, you idiot?… You going to behave?… You going to beat it like a good boy?… You going to shove off and take your train?…” But he kept right on grunting and sniffing at the corpse… So I grab him by the arm… I try to take him away… I try to make him get up… He goes into one of his tantrums!… He gives me a terrible poke with his elbow!… Right square in the knee… Ah, the scumbag! Say, that hurts!… I see stars!… I was this close to braining him then and there… the crazy bastard!… I’d have wiped him out!… The old lady kept at it though… She appealed to his kind heart… to his good intentions… She tried to smooth him down…

  “You see, Father, you can see he’s dead… You’re making all of us miserable!… That’s all you’re doing!… He’s gone, poor man!… The gendarme forbade us!… He told us not to let anybody in… We promised him! You’re going to get us into trouble!… Both of us, Ferdinand and me. What good will that do?… You wouldn’t want that, would you?…”

  At this point I say to myself: “Balls! If he won’t believe us, I’ll show him the head… If he thinks we’re hiding him!… And then I’ll throw him out quick!…” So I lift up a corner of the cover… I bring the candle still closer… I show him the whole mulligatawny… “Take a good look!” So he can really see what’s what… He kneels down for a close-up… I try again:

  “OK, you old souse? You coming?…” I tug at him… He doesn’t want to move!… He’s adamant… He doesn’t want to leave… He sniffs full in the meat… “Hm! Hm!” He starts howling!… He works himself up!… He throws another fit… His whole body is shaking!… I try to cover the head up again… That’ll do!… But he pulls at the canvas… He’s in a frenzy! Stark-raving mad! He won’t let me cover him!… He sticks his fingers into the wound… He plunges both hands into the meat… he digs into all the holes… He tears away the soft edges!… He pokes around!… He gets stuck!… His wrist is caught in the bones! Crack!… He tugs… He struggles like he’s in a trap… Some kind of pouch bursts!… The juice pours out! It gushes all over the place! All full of brains and blood!… Splashing!… He manages to get his hand out… I get the sauce full in the face!… I can’t see a thing!… I flail around!… The candle’s out!… He’s still yelling!… I’ve got to stop him… I can’t see him!… I lose my head!… I
lunge at him!… By dead reckoning!… I hit him square!… The stinker goes over!… He crashes against the wall… Smash! Boom!… I’ve got my momentum!… I’m coming after him… but I straighten out!… I brake, I get away from him!… I’m very careful!… Hell!… I don’t want him conking out on account of me!… I wipe my eyes! I keep my presence of mind!… I try to get him up… I don’t want him lying on the floor!… I give him a good kick in the ribs… He lifts up a little… That’s better!… I give him a good smack in the face… That gets him all the way up… the old lady empties a whole basin of water… it was plenty cold… over his dome… He starts sighing and whimpering again… Isn’t that lovely!… But then he folds up all in a piece… The rotten stinker!… Bam!… He collapses!… He quivers like a rabbit… then he stops moving completely!… The louse!… He can’t take it!… I give a look out the door… Then the two of us tote him out to the side of the road… We didn’t want to have him around and get blamed for him too!… Hell no!… Have the cop find him in the house?… Out like a light!… Completely at our mercy!… Wouldn’t that be sweet!… We’d be cooked to a crisp!… They mustn’t even know we’ve had him in the house!… What people don’t know won’t hurt ’em!… We’re no suckers!… OK! Out with him! Hurrah for the fresh air!… Unconscious or not!… He started grunting a little after all… He sniffed around in the muck… The rain was coming down in buckets… We ran back in… We bolted the door… The wind was coming in blasts… I say to the old lady:

  “We’re not going to move… even if he calls!… We don’t hear a thing!… When the cop comes back, we play it dumb!… We haven’t seen a damn thing!… There!… If he bumps into him, that’s his business!…” OK! She caught on… So that was that!…

  Maybe an hour goes by!… Maybe a little more… I fix up the kitchen… The old lady keeps a watch at the window…

  “Don’t look over here, Madame!… Don’t turn round!… Don’t worry about the house-cleaning!… Watch what’s going on outside!…” I stretch out the corpse… I tidy up the straw… Rivers of blood were coming through the canvas… I get a little more hay… I scatter it around… I mop up the puddles as best I can!… I put some fresh straw under the head… a good thickness like a pillow… But the hardest part was the splashes!… There were spots all the way up to the ceiling… And whole blood clots sticking to the wall!… It really looked lousy!… I tried to rinse it all off… I ran the sponge over it again… But the marks got worse each time… Hell, I couldn’t stay there all night!… I take the candles!… I leave the room!… We wait next door, the old lady and me… Boy, the jitters I had!… It was terrible… They kept coming back at me!… Suppose this cop should notice?… Suppose he got wind of that brawl!… What a mess!… How were we going to wriggle out of that one?… Especially if he found the priest out cold on the road!… New evidence!… Hell!… The lousy cop didn’t come and he didn’t come… He must have fucked his sister-in-law for dessert!… Some nerve!… We lay down on the ground!… We’d thrown down some hay too… I didn’t talk… I was thinking… The night would never be over!… I could never have fallen asleep in the state I was in… I don’t think I’d ever been so scared… Suddenly I hear a fanfare… Christ almighty Jesus!… There we go!… It’s the hunting horn!… And it came from the plain… from nearby! I say to myself: “It’s him!… Oh, the louse!” I recognized every squeak! He starts up again, an encore!… Oh, the stinker!… Oh, the rotten skunk! He drowned out the wind… he drowned out the roar of the gale with his raucous trumpet! Christ! Enough was enough! He blew with all his heart and soul!… Some sea elephant he turned out to be!… Imagine a priest being such a crackpot!… Christ, what a racket! Oh, that scumbag! That dirty dog!… That pain in the arse!… I made up my mind!… But then hell’s bells, no! Better he should be gargling, horrible as it was!… It showed he’d recovered… He seemed to be happy!… It proved he hadn’t conked out! Lord, what a monster! “Bellow away, queen of the cows!” And there he goes again with his damn trombone!… His wind was doing fine!… Not a thing wrong with him!… Tally-ho! Tally-ho! Oh, my bleeding arse! Ta-ta-ta, he’s sure giving us our money’s worth!… It was better than kicking off though!… Hell, you got to admit that! But those belches, that brass bellyache was horrible all the same! The master of the hunt was making some pest of himself out there with his sewer pipe!… He never stopped!… He’d subside for half a second and right away he’d start up again!… Louder and louder!… Oh, you couldn’t go wrong! It was our nutcase all right!… His concert went on until half-past six at least… The day was breaking when somebody tapped on the window… It was our cop!… He’d just got back… in the nick of time… He’d slept in Blême, supposedly… in with his horse, so he said… He couldn’t get him shod in Tousnes… it had been too late… he hadn’t found the blacksmith’s place…

  “Say, who was playing the horn around here all night?…” he asked us right away… “You didn’t hear anything?…”

  “No!…” we said. “The horn?… Oh no! Certainly not, we didn’t hear a thing!…”

  “That’s funny… The old folks told me…”

  He went and opened the window… The priest was right out in front… He jumped in like a goat… He’d been waiting for the chance… He flopped down on his knees in the middle of the room… He started in “Our Father which art in heaven!… Thy Kingdom come!…” He said it again… He kept repeating it like a phonograph… He hammered his ribs with both fists!… He was trembling all over… He bounced around on his shins!… He took a lot of punishment… He didn’t stop for a second… He grimaced with pain… he was playing the martyr!… “Thy Kingdom come!…” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Thy Kingdom come!…”

  “Say, what is this?… Say, what is this?” The gendarme hadn’t ever seen such a number, he was flummoxed… “Ah, what a strange one!…” He didn’t know what to think… It threw him for several loops… The old lady was busy in the kitchen, she was heating up coffee for us… It didn’t seem like the right time!… Our supplicant St Anthony broke off his prayers when he saw the mud coming in… He made a dive for a cup… He tried to drink out of all the bowls!… He was very active! He even sucked the spout of the coffee pot!… He burned his mouth… He puffed like a locomotive… The cop was in stitches… “My goodness, the man must be crazy!… Why, he’s not normal!… That’s a sure thing!… Not that I give a damn!… It’s no skin off my arse!… Nuts aren’t in my line of duty!… They’re no business of mine!… That’s for the Public Welfare Department!… But I don’t think he’s a priest… He don’t look it!… Where’d he come from?… Escaped from the nuthouse?… Or maybe he’s been to a ball?… Isn’t he drunk?… Maybe it’s a disguise… Anyway, it’s not my line!… But supposing he’s a deserter!… Now that would be my line!… I’d have to look into it!… But hell, he’s too old!… Say, Pop, how old are you?… You won’t tell me?…” The shady character didn’t say a word… He was draining the bottoms of the cups…

  “Say, isn’t he clever? He can even drink with his nose! Hey, Pop!… Say, ain’t that horn pretty?… Say, that’s a handsome instrument!… Say, I wonder where he came from…”

  * * *

  Later that morning a whole army of sightseers descended on our village!… I wondered where they could all have come from… In that deserted region it was really a mystery!… From Persant? There’d never been so many people there!… Or in Mesloirs either!… So they came from much farther… from other counties… other districts… The crowd was so dense they overflowed onto our garden… They were packed so tight the road wouldn’t hold them all… They stamped through the fields, both embankments caved in under the weight of the populace… They wanted to see everything at once… they wanted to know everything and knock everything over… The rain was splashing down… That didn’t bother them in the least… They hung around, all plastered with dung… In the end they invaded our yard… They gave off a raucous rumble…

  In the front row, right ag
ainst our windows, there was a whole slew of grandmothers! What a sight! They fastened on to the shutters, there were maybe at least fifty of them… They croaked louder than anybody else… They fought among themselves with umbrellas!

  At last the promised ambulance turned up… It was the very first time they’d risked it out of town… The driver tipped us off… The big hospital in Beauvais had just acquired it… Some breakdowns he’d had!… Three punctures in a row!… Two leaks in the gas line… Now he’d have to hurry to be back before nightfall… We slipped out the stretcher, each of us took a shaft… There wasn’t a second to be lost!… The driver had another worry too… that his motor would stall… He couldn’t stop… not for a minute!… not for a second!… He had to keep it running even when the car was standing still!… But that was dangerous too on account of the little flames that shot out when it backfired… We went in for Courtial… The mob rushed the doorways… They pushed so hard… they blocked the arch and the little hallway so thoroughly that even clouting them, even charging them with the cop, it was like going through a rolling mill… We came back quick with the stretcher, we slipped the shafts into the grooves made specially for the purpose… it went all the way back… it fitted perfectly… We drew the big curtains… black oilcloth… That was that!… The peasants stopped talking… They took off their caps… The women… young ones, old ones… crossed themselves like mad… standing ankle-deep in the mud… The rain came down in buckets… They mumbled all their prayers… Lord, was it raining!… The ambulance driver climbed up on his seat… He retarded the spark… Pip! Pop! Tap! Pip! Pop! Tap! Pip! Pip! Terrible hiccups!… The engine was wet… It snorted from every cylinder… Finally it makes up its mind!… It gives a jerk… another… He throws in the clutch… It moves a little way… When Canon Fleury sees the shebang leaving, he lights out… He does a hundred-metre dash!… He pushes himself to the limit. He bounds into the air… He jumps on the mudguard!… We had to run after him and pull him off by brute force! He fought like a lion!… We locked him up in the barn! So far so good!… But once the motor had stalled, it didn’t want to start again! We all had to push it up the hill… to give it momentum… Then the new ambulance clanks down the slope, coughing and jerking and spluttering… almost three kilometres!… Some sport!… We went back to the farm… We sat down in the kitchen… We waited a while for the people to get bored and clear out… There was nothing more to see, that was obvious… but they didn’t budge!… The ones without umbrellas settled down in the yard… in the middle shed… they’d brought their lunch! We closed our shutters.