Shiva and Other Stories

by Barry N. Malzberg

  “A statement?”

  “Right here and now. A credible suicide note that can be found with the corpse. Don’t worry about the strangulation; cyanosis can occur for lots of reasons, and there are ways around it. But then there’s the note. It has to be right. I assume you can take care of it. There isn’t much time.”

  “I can take care of it,” I said gratefully, seeing for the first time (but I could have deduced it earlier!) a way out. “Yes, that shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “It’s Sunday,” the supervisor said, “and also I would prefer to play this very close. I would prefer to keep it in the family. I would prefer not to call in the domestic division.”

  * * *

  There are seven reasons, and of them all only the seventh counts: to take testimony, to leave testimony, to make a difference. Hence the library and hence the note to be left beside you, my love.

  I am sorry, Francine. Had you but understood, it could have been different. Had I but understood, you might have been with me yet. We do what we must do, and we know none other. The secret, the document itself, is my life.

  Kingfish

  EVERY MAN A KING, EVERY KING A SAINT, each and every one of us on our own piece of holy ground. That’s what he said. That’s what he said to the little guy in Berlin. I was there at the picture-taking after the private conferences, I could hear what Huey said to him over the sounds of the reporters, the hammer of the flashbulbs. Just look this way, boss. You and me and cousin Henry, Aunt Anna and Moses down the lane, there’s a glory for each of us and it can be yours too. The little guy kind of jumped and twitched when Huey squeezed him on the shoulder. The interpreter was yammering away in that German of his, but somehow I think the little guy got the message already. He knew more English than he let on. He knew a lot more stuff than he let on about everything.

  What do you say there, Adolf? Huey said, and gave an enormous wink. I could have dropped my teeth on the floor. You think we can get this rolling, just the two of us? Hey John, Huey said, motioning to me, don’t stand there like a stupe on the sidelines, join the photo session. This here is my vice president, Huey said to the little guy.

  The little guy said something in Huey’s ear, up close. That’s right, Huey said. That, too. He’s everybody’s vice president. He is the second in command, isn’t that right? He gave me a Louisiana-sized wave, clasped my hand. Holding his hand that way, backing into the Führer, I had the little guy boxed against Huey. We had him in perfect position, trapped. We could have stood and tossed him over the Reichstag. But we didn’t, standing there frozen in the eye of the world, the press roaring, the sounds drifting around us and in that small abyss Huey squeezed my hand for attention and gave one perfect, focused wink. Got him, the wink said. Got him, didn’t I tell you?

  Got you too.

  * * *

  This was the meeting in the Bayou in November of 1935, the famous secret meeting. Never mind where. Huey’s boys got to me and said be in Amarillo at midnight and leave the rest to us. We’ll get you past the border and leave the delegation at home. It was easy to get away; I was back home for Christmas then. The President wouldn’t even have known I had blown town. It had gotten harder and harder to get Roosevelt’s attention; it wasn’t even worth trying anymore. Now and then I had fantasies of sneaking behind his wheelchair during the State of the Union and pulling the podium away, showing his shrunken parts to the world. But I never would have done that. Damn near would never have done anything if Huey hadn’t gotten in touch. Came into the parish humping my way in a big black car; it could have been Capone’s chauffeur up there in front, the guys with me in the back, Capone’s party boys. But I wasn’t scared. Who shoots the vice president? Easier to park him under a rug and let him die. I’m going to go for it, Huey said to me. This isn’t to bullshit you, I’m coming straight out. I’m running for president.

  That’s no surprise, I said. It wasn’t. The word had been out for years, this Senator wasn’t running around Washington for the graft, filibustering for the sake of opening his yap. Every man a king. He wanted to be president, all right. If not Roosevelt, then why not him? But Roosevelt seemed to have the banged-out vote pretty well sewed up. I told Huey that. You can’t run as the man of the people against this guy, I said. He knows the people too well. He’s a sitting president. You’ll just have to wait your turn.

  I’m not waiting my turn, Huey said. Up close he was intense, even more so than on the radio. There was something in his eyes, something in the set of his body that made you not want to explore his depths. All of this was in a room one-on-one; he wanted no one in there with us. After I got shot at, Huey said, grabbing his arm, I got this insight. There’s no sense waiting. You wait, you’re just as likely to die. Two inches either way on the gun hand and the guy wouldn’t have gotten me in the shoulder, he would have had me in the heart. I would have died there on the Capitol floor.

  I know all about it, I said. I read the papers too.

  You read a hell of a lot more than the papers, Huey said. You don’t pull that dumb cowboy shit on me, John Nance Garner. You’re the Vice President of the United States and no goddamned fool. I was calculating, let him have the two terms and run in 1940. But when I saw the blood spouting out of my arm, heard the screaming, saw that cocksucker lying dead on the floor instead of me, I said what the fuck is this? This is all bullshit. I’m making plans, biding my time, while the man on the plow is dying and I could have been dead. I’m going for it now.

  That’s your prerogative, I said. You’ve got a tough one ahead of you. But I can wish you well. I got no quarrel with you.

  Maybe you should, Huey said. You Texans, you think we’re all a bunch of savages and Cajun voodoo lovers here. Or grave robbers. But if you can take it, I can. I want you to run with me, he said. That’s the only way. You run with me, we can split him away.

  Run with you? I said. You’re crazy. Bolt the party, give up the office?

  Who said to give up? Huey said. You’re Vice President. You’re a constitutionally elected official, you’re in as solid as him. He can’t impeach you and it’s only eleven months until the election anyway. Instead of running as a Democrat you run with me as an Independent. I don’t want to go in the party anyway.

  Never heard of anything like it, I said. I have to tell you, I was astounded. Ever since that thirty-hour stemwinder in the Senate when Huey had worked with applejack and a tin can strapped to his leg to stop the government cold while he argued the budget and the Book of Genesis and a hundred other things, I had known he was a man to reckon with, no one to underplay, but this was something entirely new. This went outside my experience. Shit, I said, you’re crazy.

  So I’m crazy, Huey said. You think I’m out of place here? It’s all crazy. We got ourselves a country in collapse; we got ourselves a situation that won’t quit. Got thirty million men wandering the roads of America, ready to kill for a slice of bread; got thirty million women who would hump for the price of an apple or some clothes for the baby. Think it’s going to turn around? Think again. We’re in critical times, boy. It’s all falling apart on us. It’s time for someone to take over who cares for the people.

  Frank cares for the people, I said. In his way.

  His way, Huey said. He gave me that smile, opened his mouth, showed me all the lovely white and open spaces. Just two guys on the Bayou talking sense, he said. Got all the doors closed. Want some whiskey? I got me a bottle of the finest here. He busted Prohibition, I’ll give your guy that.

  I don’t care, I said. I never turned down any whiskey. Huey took a bottle from inside his coat, opened it, passed it to me. Here, he said. Got compunction? Want a glass?

  Never heard of that, I said. I took a swig deep down—not bad stuff—and handed it over. You serious? I said. You really mean it?

  Sure I mean it, he said. If you come over, I figure we got this election. It all falls into place. You’ve made a considered judgment, that’s it. You’re going with the real man of the people. Frank
lin will have a fit but what can he do? Maybe he can get Lehman to run with him. Two New York kikes, Huey said, and took a swig and giggled. Not that I got anything against kikes, he said. Kikes and shines and Micks and Polacks, hunkies and Cajuns and Injuns and all the rest of them, they’re all the soul of the country. But I want this to be a done deal, I don’t want to fool around. I want your commitment now, and then we’ll go on from there.

  And then what? I said. How do I go back to Washington and face the man?

  You don’t have to face him. You can stay on the ranch. You’re constitutionally elected, remember? There’s nothing he can do to you. We’ll wait a couple of months, then we’ll hold a joint press conference and announce.

  Not Democrat, I said. You want to go third party.

  Right, Huey said. He looked at the bottle, shrugged, took another sip. We could probably beat him in the party if we went all out for it but we’d bust it wide open and then he’d probably go third party on me and split the thing. No, we’ll do it ourselves. The money is there. Don’t worry about the money.

  Just have my ass there, I said. That’s what you’re telling me?

  That’s what I’m telling you, he said. Listen, you don’t like this guy anyway. That’s no secret. And I’ll tell you something, all right? He held the bottle out to me. I shook my head. (They have me down for a drunk but it is all part of their misunderstanding. No one goes as far as John Nance Garner has by being a simple drunk. Of course there are other factors.) Here it is, Huey said. I want to be a one-term president, that’s all. I’ll step aside in ’40. You can have it then.

  You got it all figured out, I said. What a generous offer.

  I’m serious, he said. If I can’t make this thing work in one term, I can’t do anything in two. Besides, I don’t want to be president all my life. I want to lie down here in the sun, run the dogs, know me another woman or two. But I got a few plans. In ’40 I can put you over the top.

  I didn’t believe a word of it. Up to this point I had pretty well taken what Huey had said as he had presented it, but this part was not to be believed. It didn’t bother me, of course. Long view or short, you cultivate the situation more or less as it is found and don’t push for explanations. I’ll think about it, I said. It’s going to be ugly stuff. The Republicans want to be heard from.

  Republicans! Huey said. Who they got? Hoover again? Charles Evans Hughes? Maybe Styles Bridges? I say the word Hoover three times a day until November, I don’t have to say anything else. So much for the Republicans. Franklin will be tough but with his vice president jumping ship and every man a king, I think I got a chance. You think I have a chance, Big John?

  Yes, I said, I think so. I want to think on this some.

  Don’t think on it too long, he said. You’re getting first offer and best offer but you aren’t the only one, you understand. There are a lot of people outside the parishes who see things the way I do, who would be happy to come along. The next person I ask is Rayburn. You think he’ll turn it down?

  I don’t know, I said.

  Well I do, Huey said. He turned it down. Conditional. He said I should ask you first, courtesy of the line of succession and all that. But if you don’t want it, he said, I should ask him again. That good enough for you?

  I’ll have another sip of that whiskey, I said. I do declare that ain’t bad whiskey, considering.

  Yeah, Huey said. You know, I looked down at the blood on the floor of the Capitol and I said, it could have been my blood and no one would ever have known what I could have been. There are moments that change you, Big John. Maybe you’ve had a few.

  I think I’ve had one just now, I said. I took the whiskey bottle from him and palmed it. It felt like a grenade in my hand. I ran my palm over it, up and down, down and up, then drank deep. I’m tired of this job, I said finally, this is a shitty job. Maybe you can give me something to do besides hold a gavel and wait around for you to drop dead.

  We’ll have plenty for you to do, Huey said. We’re gonna be a goddamned team, Big John. And in 1940, things work out the way I hope they will, you can have the whole goddamned thing. We’ll probably be in a war by then anyway, ain’t doing you no favors.

  * * *

  Landon was a clown. Huey was right, the Republicans had nothing, there was no way that they could campaign, nothing that they could say. That was the summer of the dust bowls, the failed crops, the riots in the Capitol. Roosevelt wanted me to step down when he got the word, and then he threatened to impeach me, and then he said he’d send me out to inspect the goddamned Navy in California for six months if I didn’t shut up and get in line, but I just laughed at him. There was absolutely nothing that he could do. He was licked and he knew it. He had a sitting vice president who had shifted to an Independent ticket headed by a better man and there was no provision in the Constitution or in the articles of state that could touch me. He couldn’t even say too loud that I was a piece of shit because, after all, he had picked me the first time around and I had enough friends in the party to embarrass him on the renomination. Anyway, the Governor of New Jersey ended up as the fool’s candidate for vice president and Huey and I took to the road.

  We stirred the pots in Metairie and prayed with the ministers in Dallas; we lit fires on a reservation in Albuquerque and then we went to a meeting with Father Divine in Brooklyn. The Father Divine stunt was a ripper, it looked for a couple of days that it would cost us everything, that we would blow the election on that, but then the East came roaring in with the editorials and Rayburn was able to hold Texas and the rest of the South in line just as I knew he would. Father Coughlin went crazy and the Klan had some mighty doings in Florida and outside Atlanta, but Father Divine stood up in Times Square and on 125th Street and then Independence Square and said, these are good men, these are men who understand, I take the curse of racism and hatred from these men because having come from the fires of Satan, the hardest place in the country, they know the truth that will set us free. The Governor of the State of New York—Franklin’s state—met Huey in Grand Central Station and shook his hand. Out in the Midwest, crawling from stop to stop, we saw crowds like I had never seen in a hundred years in politics, and in California the farmers and the soldiers and the old soldiers came in a long line to Huey and shook his hand and wept. We know you got something for us, they said. We think you understand. Grandmas wiped his face with their handkerchiefs and now and then, seeing a hungry baby, Huey cried. Landon was flabbergasted, he gave it up in early October and went back to Kansas and just about sat on the front porch. Roosevelt fought and fought—no legs but enough courage, I had never denied that—but it all slipped away from him. As Vice President I slipped off to Washington now and then to preside over the Senate, get my face in the papers and pound the gavel and cloakroom a little.

  We got 341 electoral votes. We got New York and Pennsylvania. We got California. We lost Ohio and Illinois and we almost lost Texas too, and we sure as hell lost Georgia and Florida, but we didn’t lose too much else and in the early morning Wednesday when it was at last over, Huey turned to me and handed me a bottle, that same bottle I swear, and said, We did it, John. You did it and I swear I’ll never forget. I want to do good, John, he said. You got to believe that, I’ve only wanted all my life for the working man to have a break—and the working man in this country, he’s been screwed right out of his inheritance and his heart. We’re going to set this country aright, John, you hear that? For the first time we’re going to do it his way. I owe it all to you, John. Rayburn snuck in when it was all over; of course he couldn’t do anything officially then or later, but he made his position clear. Huey went out the next day and had the press conference.

  It was the goddamnedest thing I had ever seen. I had been Vice President of the United States and now I was going to be Vice President again and it was still the goddamnedest thing that I had ever seen. I guess I knew at the time that nothing could ever touch it again like that but I didn’t care. There are only a few moments in lif
e, as Huey himself said, and if you are lucky you know when they are there and you use them and you try to run with them all the way to—and maybe, if you are very smart and lucky, past—the grave.

  * * *

  But it started to go badly, early on. By the time of the Olympics, even before the election, we knew that Adolf was no temporary phenomenon, that he was the real thing and that it was a bad situation. The worst. Adolf did things with crowds that even Huey couldn’t do. We could see that in the clips. And the news drifting out was worse and worse.

  We’re in trouble, Huey said. This was in spring of ’37, only the third time I had gotten in to see him since he had been triumphantly inaugurated. It hadn’t taken long for him to turn me back into a vice president. This guy is murder, he said. I don’t worry about Mussolini so much, he’s an Eye-talian and he goes whichever way the wind goes, but Adolf is a killer. He’s a killer boy, do you hear that? He is taking us to war.

  So what can we do? I said. I fell into the role easily enough, feeding Huey lines, taking his whiskey—he always had a bottle now—and trying not to think about the times past. What the hell, it wasn’t worth a pitcher of warm spit anyway, I had known that before. So I had just switched wives, that was all. It was the same bunch of crap and John Nance Garner knew it. Besides, the only real populist is a dead man, I was smart enough to know that. What are we going to do, take Adolf out?

  He’s killing Jews and Gypsies, Huey said, and ugly-looking types and enemies and a lot of good Germans too. He’s killing everything that takes his fancy and he’s dead serious about this. He is one out-of-control loon and he is putting us on a war footing, do you understand that?

  I understand a lot of things.

  I can’t go nowhere, I can’t do the kind of things that got to be done with one eye on that guy. We’re going to go over there and try to reason with him. We’re going to set up a run to Berlin.