London Bridge

by Louis-Ferdinand Celine

  “Gas masks! Gas birds!”

  That was his idea… Especially since the Ferocious business. Sosthène was with him one hundred per cent.

  We gave it some thought… Resupplying all that junk added up to one hell of a tab… he was going to feel it in his wallet, especially with the skyrocketing prices, the stock-market crisis… Ah! I could see I was going to have to run myself ragged… they studied the matter… I’d need two or three weeks at least… especially for the small manufacturers stuck way out in the middle of nowhere… I’d get around on foot and by bus, no fun for me… by taxi for the sheet metal and the retorts, ever so fragile.

  If I charged around from morning to night like some chicken with its head cut off, maybe I’d manage to do the job in two… three weeks… we came up with a rough figure, I mean just for the basics…

  The prospect of running errands all over the place made me think of Nelson, the champion gofer!… Now there was somebody who knew his London! No way he wasn’t hot on our heels at this exact moment… Ever since I’d fucked him over, he must have been hell-bent on seeing me again… I’d be smart not to run right smack into him while out and about… Lucky thing London’s one hell of a huge place, a total chaos!… Unless I get all screwed up… and wander back through Trafalgar Square… tickled by the risk… We talked money a little more, a rough guess about the cost of replacing everything… all they’d massacred, pulverized in their rage, couldn’t say exactly, but in the vicinity of seven-eight hundred pounds… that was a nice piece of change in those days… And I’d be pocketing my small cut… Plus we wouldn’t even be dealing with the roof, a good fifteen yards of which had been blown apart, all the tiles sent flying off into pieces… they’d burst open the laths whacking away with their winches and pickaxe handles… And even worse… hacking away at the walls with mine pickets… Another flick of the fingers and the whole place would come tumbling down around our ears!… Ferocious 86 was no gas to kid around with… It told you who was boss… Sosthène applied medicinal brandy-soaked compresses over all his lumps and bruises… his head was covered with them… I opened the faucet… we were in the pantry… running water was all that was left… he whined anyway…

  “I feel rotten, son… Just rotten…”

  He complained pretty loudly… and then in a dam burst of tears… he never wanted to see the Colonel again…

  “Quit beefing! You’re back to singing that old song! And so how’re we supposed to put beef in our bellies, jerk?”

  Actually, that was the question… To beef or not to beef…

  “Ah! You got it easy, you do! You’re having a ball! Plain as day you’re not the one doing any of the sniffing!”

  With that he starts hacking, choking, to make me feel good and ashamed…

  “If other people kick off you couldn’t care less, you’re in the dark! I’m going to tell you a thing or two, you little dummy… No! I’ll save it for tonight!…”

  A nasty sort, the kind of guy who makes your life hell… Ah! He turned my stomach… This was no place for a shouting match, we’d just sat down to eat, had to hurry up and finish, the Colonel was eager… Even so a word to Virginia just in passing… “I adore you… I love you…” Grace… then down the hatch in five seconds flat… back upstairs on the double… Sosthène leads the way… hobbling pitifully… blubbering with each step up… busted up a lot worse than me, a hundred times worse!… He can’t walk any more, he crawls… once he gets upstairs he plops on the bed, collapses…

  “No! My friend! No!…” he exclaims.

  The only words he can muster! “No! No! No!…” He refuses to return to his post… Ah! What a disaster!… What a crybaby!…

  I know the whole story! Our little game is over! Just one big bad-luck screw-up…

  “Come on!” I give him a shake, “Up we go, pops! You’re going to get sick! The only thing for you to do is throw in the towel! Simple as that! And get the hell out of here! I won’t hold it against you! Can’t take any more, huh? It’s over! So just drop the whole thing!”

  “Me, drop the whole thing? Just drop it? Where’d you pick up an idea like that, you whippersnapper? Ah! Little liar!”

  I hit a nerve, he jumps to his feet, mad as hell…

  “Snake in the grass! Slug!” he calls me… “Dishonest rat! Fink!”

  He heaps me with insults. A sudden outburst.

  “Did I ever tell you I’d had it? Just listen to this slimeball! For crying out loud, who does he take me for! A chicken like him? Ferdinand Yellow Belly!”

  He sniggers, the big windbag… He’s a different person… splitting his sides hysterical over the nerve of me… my accusations of cowardice are an absolute riot…

  “Me? Scared away from the gas, you little squirt?… I dare you to repeat it! Look at me!”

  He’s swaggering, throwing out his chest…

  “Mr Lives Dangerously, kid! That’s my name!”

  He pushes out his scrawny chest…

  “I’m not looking for any alibis! I’m not putting on any wounded-veteran act! If I’ve got to sniff, I sniff for Ferdinand! If suffer, then suffer I will! If I’ve got to die for Ferdinand, then die I will! Sosthène reporting here! So there! My two cents!”

  Nice spiel, he really showed me! I’d worked him back up. He couldn’t hold still…

  “Excuse me! Professor! Excuse me!”

  I slinked around, stammering excuses… but he wouldn’t have anything to do with my apology… he kept hammering away about my foolishness…

  “You have no fine points, Ferdinand! Not a single one! Oafish, clumsy, klutzy… Apeman Ferdinand! That says it all!”

  He was pouring it on…

  “Smooth out your rough edges, for Christ’s sake! Pick up a few fine points! Learn a few things! Make an effort! Try at least! Try! Take a look at how I live… Try and understand… Appreciate! Don’t devastate! You’re seeing me here in the thick of battle… I’m battling! Battling! That’s that! Knocked for a little loop, that’s a fact… but I haven’t fallen to pieces over that!… Don’t jump to conclusions!… I’m outgoing by nature… Admire! Take a page out of my book! Keep your complaints to yourself! Idiotic trash!… You’re spreading the worst sort of sleaze! You’ll be my ruin! My downfall! Hey, everybody, gather round! What a gossip-monger! Blabbing from the rooftops! Sosthène’s finished! End of story! Drop the curtain! Funny old bird! So watch your mouth, my boy!”

  He swells his lungs, sniffles… avalanche of sighs… a slew of insinuations… Ah! The big act! What a creep!… The old con artist doesn’t have an honest bone in his body… I let him shoot his mouth off… He’s playing on my vanity… trying to fire me up with the thought of amazing feats… I can see where he’s going… back to the hero routine! With me sniffing Ferocious gas… He was dead set on the idea! Yoo-hoo, sweetheart!… I know your game! Right away I bust his bubble…

  “The masks, Monsieur de Sosthène, are for your ugly kisser, not mine!… You’re the technical engineer!… I don’t know the first thing about them! You’re the one bursting with confidence, Mr Genius! The Colonel swears by you! I’ve been totally disgraced! You know the score! I’m not worthy to set foot in your kitchen again, I’m a swindler, Monsieur Sosthène! I swiped the mercury! Keep that in mind! Just imagine! Your boss doesn’t want to set eyes on me again! Quite understandable! Lay a finger on his masks? Don’t even think about it! I’m a good-for-nothing bum! What would they say at the War Office?”

  I had a good point there… I wasn’t fit to be seen in any way, shape or form… he really had to grant me that… a reprobate, a roughneck, a cut-throat… All wrapped up in one, standing right before him… a thousand times worse than him… I practically brought tears to his eyes over my situation… I’d hit the right note, used just the right words… as a result we buried the hatchet… I’d run myself down lower than slime… He became very level-headed again… even agreed at last that absolutely from this point on we ought to get along, arguing was plain silly… we ought to joi
n forces, goddamn it, the pair of us against the world, tooth and nail!… Right then and there we swore an oath on our invincible pact… Friends unto death!… We were going to battle dangers… whatever they were, hand in hand… Ah! But his first, they were more serious… we agreed on that point… he had to prepare for the trials… real death-defying feats!… The masks, the Colonel, the gases, the works!… I’d brought back the instructions, the deadline, even the site… a little less than a month to go…

  “You’ll have just enough time, Sosthène…”

  And I meant it too! I didn’t want him to spread himself too thin… I wanted him to pull himself together… I’d see to the errands on my own… his job was the knowledge and know-how… plus the magic too, of course… if he wanted to protect himself, not drop dead after the fatal whiffs… that’s what his method amounted to… he’d bragged about it often enough to me… he had to make himself amenable to the spells, the Vegic vibrations… attract the divine graces… otherwise he’d drop dead for sure… the masks would work like sieves… He’d kick off from the rat poison… he needed his own personal magic! Zero confidence in the Colonel… those contraptions of his slapped together with shoddy spare parts, or lying in pieces… Those were the depressing facts of the matter… Ah! But he’d better not duck out of it! I knew this old con man of mine! A cunning swindler who lied with every breath… and a smooth-talker into the bargain… he won’t throw in the towel, the dirty pimp… he was really hoping that in the long run I’d let myself be won around… that I’d have a little snort or two… help him, just to see what happens… Oh yeah, watch me, precious! I gave him a hard look, I held the whip hand…

  “So what about the Vega?” I start browbeating him… Ah! I’m indignant… So the Vega doesn’t matter any more? He owed me an explanation… “You couldn’t sing its praises high enough!…” He made me bring that crummy book to him! “And I stole it for you from your wife! A fat lot of good that was! I steal everything for you!” I make him ashamed again… “Now you don’t want it any more?”

  “Yes, I do! I do!” he mumbles…

  He’s spineless… I dive under the bed… bring the object out in the open… all twenty-five pounds… I realize I went through a lot of trouble on his account… What heft! What volume!

  “Here you go!” I say… “Here you go!”

  I crack the book open smack in the middle… we look… right in the dance part… he stands there stunned…

  “So doesn’t it turn you on any more, you soft-headed geezer?”

  “Who’s a soft head? Who’s a soft head?”

  Ah! He immediately perks up… a bundle of energy again… But now he’s fretting and fussing… doesn’t want to go back to cavorting with the situation as it stands… He needs the proper setting… first we got to draw the drapes, shut the windows, the blinds, every damn thing… And then seal up the cracks… absolutely airtight… and I’ve got to dig up some candles for him… hare-brained touches… we’re still keeping the light bulbs on… completely masked though, practically grey… The maniac! The louse!… And still more… now he needs to slip into a new costume… back into his Chinese drag, apparently it’s an absolute must… otherwise forget about any magic… I’m included too, he lays out the plan for me… finally I catch on… I sort of have a clue… how my role is to play accompaniment… his is the dancing of the magic… I’m on drums… I rap the bedboard, click!… click!… click!… Varying in time with his grimaces… up tempo, up, up, then more slowly… with each new contortion… my fun’s just starting!… This is only the beginning!… Supposedly in imitation of the dancing figures, the splashy drawings of the Vega… he looks, I look, we get all mixed up… he wants a da… da… dah!… Dah! That’s the hardest… with some sizzle! Some crackle!… In short, a wild man’s beat… actually, we don’t have any drumsticks… just two knife handles… I’ve got to give it all I got!… And with my arm, the pain kicks in once I pass my limit… he couldn’t care less, though! What he wants from me is a driving, jumping beat… So I grab the toothbrushes, they’ll move faster actually… I click-clack even harder, no mistake about that! And then even faster with two spoons… It might have been big fun if my arm hadn’t been hurting… plus he didn’t really make it clear where I was supposed to jump in… exactly at what little leg twirl?… And where I should lighten up, at what little smile? There were smiles in the Vega, the Buddha figures… all explained in the sacred characters of the big fat book… he gave me the rundown on each image… deciphering as we turned the pages… Forward, Oriental Studies!… Mostly he talked a load of gibberish… You just had to keep your eyes open and watch when you came down to it… and then imitate wherever possible!… Ah! They were such pretty illustrations! All the dance positions, costumes, facial expressions, sabres, on figurines, individuals, Brahmans in every state of convulsion… the whole crew wiggling their bellies, arms, legs, feet in the air!… One foot on top of the other… grimaces and broad grins, monster leers… later on we’d make ourselves up just like them down to the last detail… in full colour… from head to toe… went without saying… the perfect illusion!… Sosthène didn’t want any close tries!… Pig-headed on that point, a maniac… I screwed up a lot… “Magic Rituals” was its title… I had trouble catching on… I was supposed to provide a subtle accompaniment… jump in the middle of the music of the spirits… my bop! bop! click! click! Fantastic!… At bottom it was real kids’ stuff… He’d lift one foot then the other… Bop! Bop! Click! Click!… He’d turn his arm around like this bop! bop! click! click!… He’d make a scary face, eyes popping… Wham! Wham! Bang! Bing! My part… he’d contort his hands around facing palm out behind his neck… he forced his elbows into a cross… took a real effort… rocking, throwing around his whole butt… at the same time giving his thighs a twirl… and me going bang! Bang! Bim! Bam! Bang! Bim! Boom!… Nice job! Whew! He collapsed out of breath… a breather! Time for the prophetic proverb… I repeat the saying… It was for putting you in the right frame of mind… supposedly… according to him… he shook himself off just a little and whee! Off on another round!… Still madly panting… another mystical bout… just like in the book… he put himself through hell, spared himself nothing… swinging his torso back and forth, shoulders shaking down to his fingertips… castanets-in-your-hands style… the whole number punctuated by my bop! bop!… Very faint hushed crackling… almost inaudible… drawn out with finesse… Bang! Bang! Bang!… “The Skota for Inner Peace”… that’s the term in the Hindu text… and this was still just an intro, the initiation into the Mysteries!… Now we were about to start the real show!… I wouldn’t believe my eyes when I saw what was coming next! The ceremony! He made sure to tell me to hang tough, keep my head on straight… we were about to launch into the Incantation! The meat of the matter, the heart of the ballet!… He was the celebrant, the magus! Ah! Wait until I feasted my eyes on this little showstopper of his! First, he had to hitch up his gown so nothing’d hamper his spirited kicks, his fervent flights… the whole number was clearly explained, illustrated in precise detail… he wouldn’t scrimp by one fraction of a hair… the full treatment was in order, the complete muscle-crunching workout… he plants himself in the far corners to get a running start… gathering steam with a few caprioles and rebounding, plop! Smack in the middle of the room!… An awesome impact from such a scrawny crow like him! Rattling the frames off the walls… I’d never have believed he was so heavy!… Something supernatural… the deafening din of a ceiling reduced to dust… of water crashing out of a washbasin… of an earthquake!… A thunderbolt! No two ways about it, he’s magic all right… His gown hitched up… I shout to him from my bed…

  “You’re magic, old boy! You’re magic!”

  I want to make him feel good!… Can’t help myself… Ah! Plus I’m having a blast… he can’t hear anything… walks out of the corner… hands hooked like handles over his head… the sacred garland… with mincing not so very graceful steps, almost on tiptoe, simpering… timid odalisq
ue… he wiggles his hips at me, gives me a wink… I look at him funny… scare him off… he comes back at me fit to be tied, arrogant… frowns at me, threatens, shows me the drawing… he’s sore, he’s really got the facial expression down pat!… The dragon-like thing on the page, I’ve got to hand it to him there… just needs the flames shooting from his jaws… he sniffles for that effect, coughs… he’ll breathe fire for sure any day he picks!… Had to see him exerting himself, busting his gut… at first glance you’d never think he had it in him, such a puny, washed-out sorry-ass runt like him, but you had to see him now all revved up! A whirlwind! Making your head spin! And on top of everything else, a bully! I’m always off the beat!… He chews me out, pesters the hell out of me… he’s everywhere at once… my hands can’t keep up… always lagging behind… the scar at my wrist cuts me off… he doesn’t give a damn, constantly popping around… I’ve got to give it more juice, no ifs, ands or buts, keep click-clacking away like mad… he’s whipped up into a breakneck tizzy, going at it on all sides… an amazing mime show… he depicts two monsters at once as in the book illustration… now locked in an all-out battle!… Right in his own body! He hollers for me not to just sit there like some dumb jerk, I’ve got my job cut out for me!… Got to click-clack, fucking hell!… This is the big climax! His grand moment!… One dragon on his ass it seems, the other smack on his chest… about to pounce on each other’s tusks, a duel to the death!… All taking place right inside Sosthène, in his body itself… he buckles over in convulsions, twisting, turning like crazy… rolls across the carpet, heaves eeeyaahs and eeeyoahs, monster roars… A one-man battle, both monsters going at it tooth and nail… their limbs knotted… it’s hideous… inside his tiny body… he jams, twists himself up in the doorway… if the door opens he’ll be torn limb from limb… it’s a dragon free-for-all… he pries himself loose, crawls under the table, groaning, wriggling… he moans, spits, bends backwards and sinks his teeth into his legs, draws blood, waging a fearsome battle against himself… he’s going to devour himself completely… dragons in a fray… even worse than Ferocious… all his bones are cracking… he’s gobbling himself up… watching him is sheer hell… My click-clacking’s not doing the trick for him, I’ve got to match his violence… I need to beat time with my hands… rap out at top speed… I’m going to demolish what’s left of my arm… the great dragon-bashing… got to fire the monsters up for the carnage… plus holler Eeeyaah! Eeeyaaah! every time he rolls across the carpet… he demands it, chews me out, feeds my flames… I get caught up in the game, this was bound to happen… I out-yell him!… But he wants to remind me who’s running the show… “This is still just a rehearsal!” he shouts while shooting past. He throws cold water on me… So what’s the real thing going to be like! He’s so inflamed, so fanatical, he barely has time to leap, stop in the middle of the room, take a look at his model in the big book and whoosh! Sail up in entrechats! Another little jig! I go at it twice as hard! “Keep it up! Keep it up!” he badgers me…