London Bridge

by Louis-Ferdinand Celine

  “He stinks! He stinks!” I shout, yell real loud, holler into the sky. I want to cause a scene! I’m sick and tired! But there’s not a soul around us, it’s absolutely deserted… just the three of us in the rain, plus the lawns, plus the fog… I insulted him up and down, big deal, he’s laughing… well in his own way, that croak of his… they’re both making fun of me… this guy’s a real strange one, hell, I’m not making any of this up!… Where he’d come from? What’s he up to? I’m through stalling, I blurt it out… right to her face, pow! I pop the question… you just got to open your eyes and take a look at him! So I ask her… Doesn’t the kid realize?… Can’t she see the guy? Can’t she see what he’s all about, what a screwy customer he is? And they’re the ones who split their sides, who get a kick! They think I’m a scream, absolutely hysterical! How convenient this way! How very convenient! Laughing like hyenas… I won’t pull a thing out of them of course… they’re chuckling!… I’m busting my gut killing myself all for nothing!…

  “Come on, let’s go! Hit the road, you rotten bastards!”

  That’s how I wrap it up! One turns my stomach as much as the other! I tag behind, whacked out, I quit bitching, damn! Even so, right before Bishopsgate, another fit, another outburst of anger comes over me… right on our way out.

  “Listen up, Ten-Paw, you listen up, creep!”

  With these words I corner him, block his path…

  “Enough’s enough! Scram!”

  I want him to clear off and leave us alone… He doesn’t answer, looks at me, and just places his hand on my arm, his hand meaning his pathetic excuse for a hand, a little stump of bone… that’s all it takes, wham! I don’t exist any more. It’s like I’ve been cleaned out inside… I stutter. Ah! how funny, how side-splitting! I’m always the butt of their jokes!… The pair are jumping with joy… I feel like bumping them off! Both of them! And dumping my load! The crap! I’d bring back jack shit to the old man! He’d get it right up his ass! Just one more thing swiped! Can somebody tell me where these two featherbrains are headed? Now they’re leading the way… I really don’t feel like eating! I’ve lost my appetite! They should just go ahead and eat each other since that’s what they want! That little floozie and that stinkpot! Go ahead, wham! Get it on together! Right now! Why don’t they just start fucking, goddamn it! Why not tie the knot, fucking Christ! They’re two of a kind! I get nasty! I explode!

  “Tie the knot!” I holler at them. “Then go hang yourselves!”

  I want to raise a fearsome ruckus! I want to stir up the mob… and I don’t pick and choose my words! I want the whole world to know! I yell at them from behind… far behind… they move quickly, now they’re ditching me… I want them both to tie the knot right away! Then I want to see them hang!

  “Hang!” I said. “Hang, fucking hell! Now that’s something! Hanged! Can you hear me, you stinking son of a bitch?…”

  That’ll draw a mob for sure!… “Hang”, such a splendid word, I think! Ah! He heard me, he’s turning around!

  “Hang! Hang!” I holler… “You hear me: hang!”

  He mustn’t like it… he’s heading back… I stand my ground and wait for him… we’re right in front of a shop… people are gathering… putting on these looks… they must be thinking: two cut-throats, some underworld scrap… I can see we’re not stirring up any warm feelings…

  “Hang!” I shout at them. “Hang! You cockeyed idiots!”

  They just gawk with their mouths open… they don’t understand me, they’re Englishmen… Ten-Paw trills out a few words, chats them up, sets their minds at ease, points to my head, says I’m hurting, my brain’s going bumpety-bump… but there’s no danger whatsoever… I’m not a nasty sort…

  “Hang! And hang! I’ll hang every last one of you!” I holler again…

  Now it’s my turn for some fun… he takes my arm, leads me off… doesn’t want a scene… I hoist my huge pouch, my gear back up, and we’re off again… with me between him and the girl!… Ha! Made it this time! I’m walking between, hobbling along, force them to take it slow and easy… Ah! It’s not the people back there who scare me!… I’m sure about that!… It’s Matthew! He’s the only one who scares me! The guy who’ll hang me… I tell them just between us, explain the whole story… I’m not afraid of anything Ten-Paw can do to me, poor shitty stiff! Smelly spectre! All! No way! I treat him like mud… he clink-clatters, creaks, casts me his bogus glow! I laugh it off! Matthew’s the guy I dread! He’s the worst jackal in the operation! He’ll catch every last one of those pimps! And make short work of them if I know him… he’s got the eye, he’s hungry, got the taste for blood… he’ll put them away no sweat! He’ll be worse than a court martial, more rotten than the war, more of a hell-bent bloodthirsty bastard than their whole war machine! Nobody needs to join up! He’ll do all the work! He’ll clean up the underworld single-handedly! Lousy, loudmouthed greedyguts! Ah! I was right on the money… I had such a bad feeling about it… The Strand would be swept clean!… It’s their business, damn it, after all! They thumb their noses at the beast! And old stinkpot won’t be able to do a damn thing about that! Ah! I gave him an earful… He keeps listening while walking along… they’ll find out what a real cop is all about! Malicious English double-crosser, a Scotland Yard champ… but one cop who doesn’t know me! Who doesn’t really know what makes me tick! I explain the whole thing to the pair, pour out my heart… they just can’t run off and ditch me again!… They’ve got to hear the whole story!… All just one big misunderstanding, I spell it out… I surprise Matthew, I exasperate him!… I drive him berserk, into a boiling rage… he can’t figure out my way of walking and talking, my gimp gimmicks, he thinks it’s all an act, and I grate on his nerves… I’m number one on his shit list, he’d pack me off on any slave ship, any meat wagon, on whatever, just to get rid of me, he’d string me up himself just to put an end to it all, he had zero use for me. That’s the fix I found myself in after all my noble efforts!… My very existence rubs him the wrong way… all a disastrous misunderstanding, he ought to have met my parents, the very souls of loyalty, upstanding as could be, noses to the grindstone… Then he’d realize how I’d been born and bred!… I can see him over there coming to his realizations… the fine style of the Passage… my parents’ lively shop… the pathetic creep’ll be bowled over! A completely different class of customer than his usual fare!… Especially the ladies! Nothing but baronesses from high society! Sophisticates from the upper crust! Such distinction, such charm, you name it! Plus the perfumes, the veils, the batistes and Chantilly lace!… The stupid oaf’ll get all tangled up in them! It’ll be a change of scene from his riff-raff! I can see him, imagine the whole thing, what a kick! I can’t help myself!… I can see him tangled up in the lace! Gives me a fit of laughter, I’m so wound up! Ah! He’d look a sight in batiste! Dirty jerk-off fuzz, I can see him! He’ll give everybody a good laugh over there! Ah! I sit down, I’m out of steam, it’s too much for me… I’m working my head too hard… getting carried away again… There, good, I’m resting… sitting on my big sack right in the middle of the sidewalk… it bugs the other guy, he stoops, creaks, asks what’s my problem.

  “Hey, you look tired! Don’t you want to take the Underground?”

  Underground? The Underground? Ah! I jump back… Ah! He’s singing that song again! The Underground?… The nerve of this guy!

  “Pansy! Murderer!” I call him. “Murderer!” I yell it! Shout it! I wish the people around would pounce on top of him and drag him away! They don’t lay a finger on him, they just stand in a circle. I’m the only one they find unusual, they pat my head, my cheeks… the other guy keeps smiling, thumbing his nose at me, jaws locked in a snarling grin… he’s jerking me around for all the world to see… his own special scowl… then he takes my hand, squeezes it hard, relentlessly, I stand up like a good boy, follow him, he leads me out of the crowd nice and quiet, I fall in with his slow steady trudge… the kid’s skipping along ahead… the crowd’s walking a few fe
et behind… we form a procession of sorts… passing one street then another… I see where he’s headed!… The restaurant… it’s called the Corridor… it’s full of candle rings, candelabras, a ritzy joint… I’d never have dared walk through the door… now it’s his turn to pull one over on me… he read my mind… the super-perceptive rotten bastard!

  “Let’s go in,” he says, cocksure, barging right inside, high and mighty… my heart’s in my boots… Ah! Nothing’ll rattle him, the darling! The waiters scurry to his side… the maître d’ gives him a deep bow… they’re awaiting his orders… the people outside are the ones who’re really floored, they’d no idea we were so chic… they press their noses against the window panes, they see the respect we command… we’re seated in a snap… cushions, armchairs, the works, we settle into the cushy surroundings… I think we’ve really got the best table… flowers, roses galore, a gorgeous centrepiece… were they expecting us?… But it’s not just the flowers spreading their fragrance, once I’m in my seat I catch a powerful whiff… coming from underneath!… I knew it’d kill my appetite!… A musty, funky, sickly stink… I’d love to ask them to open the windows… it’s going to get awfully stuffy in here… it smells like wax plus something else… obviously it doesn’t bother him… nor the kid, not at all… I’m not going to start sulking again… it’s a smell of wax, end of story… even so, the little kid’s onto something, wriggling her nostrils… like a bunny… sniffing all around… no, not the people at the next table… uh-uh, can’t be! It’s a real peculiar odour, a stench I’m familiar with… He sees us sniffing… it puts him in a terrific mood… he starts winking at me knowingly… Ah! He’s doing his stuff!… My appetite’s back, you better believe it… I glance down at the menu, but the smell comes up in my face! I take another whiff, it’s real revolting, thickening beneath us, he must be stirring things around under the tablecloth, his body remnants… I really don’t get any of this… it’s still him, his stench! I’d bet my life!… Ah! I’m going to let him know, oh hell, he should just leave! I pinch my nostrils between two fingers… right in front of his face so he’ll get the message… not very subtle… we’re sitting right across from each other!…

  “No! No! No! No!” he protests. “No! No!”

  Ah! He’s going too far! I’ll whisper to him… I lean over the table, looking down I have a good view… right into his ear… all green, stuck to his neck, with shreds of flesh missing… plus this kind of gunk oozing down… shreds of pink and yellow skin… Ah! How incredibly disgusting!…

  “You putrid carcass!” I whisper. “You putrid carcass!” I just blurt it out… straight into his ear…

  “Right you are! Right you are!”

  He’s not bent out of shape – look at him laughing harder than ever! He thinks I’m an amazing joker… he screaks, that laugh of his… his jaws clench, grind… teeth clacking together… an old grandfather clock in his mouth… his way of enjoying a joke… he agrees, he’s in ecstasy… rasps out his bone racket on purpose… stops trying to cover it up, he’s a stiff and that’s that! Real fast I plop back into my seat… quick, got to change the subject… I’m going to order… but he beats me to it! Quavering out to the whole room… everybody has to lend an ear… he insists… that’s his style, good cheer for one and all… my remark threw him in a fit… he’s literally exulting… ordering over the hors d’oeuvres, the big pedestal table loaded with grub… an unbelievable spread… olives and caviar in a sauce, stuffed herring with mayonnaise and pineapple with tomatoes… he gives me a hard stare, watches my expression… maybe I feel like puking? I hold back, fight the urge, stare back at him over the olives, right into his big eye sockets, he’s riveting me, I’m riveting him back… there’s a glimmer deep in his eyes… a sort of phosphorescence… followed by a faint sparkle, and then the show’s over… the guy’s got it all, he’s out of this world… just like Achille Norbert, the mummy they’re going to stick in some sideshow… Nelson and Pépé, I mean! Not Sosthène! That other clown! Ah! I mustn’t get them all mixed up! In the end they put my head in a whirl, battling inside my brain! Mustn’t get muddled! I give him another hard stare over the hors d’oeuvres plates… he won’t scare me, I don’t lower my eyes… so it’s him, huh? Big deal! So what? Hell, I’m fed up! I settle back down, clam up… what else am I supposed to say to that ugly creep? Apologize maybe? Ah! Fuck no! I’d rather fling him under the train again! Hardened murderer that I am! I’d love seeing him all mashed up again, end of story! And I want him to know, right here and now! I want him to be real clear! And not go thinking that I’m waffling! Not any more than he is, the lousy shit! Go on! Do it! I’ll chew him out! No, in a little while… in a little while… it’d be smart of me to hold off a little… he uses the chance to stink up the place… put a sparkle in his pupils…

  “Glow-worm!” I shout at him. “Glow-worm!…”

  He points to the caviar…

  “Won’t you have some?”

  Acting like nothing’s up… the little girl totally out of it… all she thinks of is her appetite, picking a little here a little there… licking her chops… a kid through and through… he recommends the shrimp to her… they practically fight over them… Ah! What a ploy!… Carrying on like he’s an expert, then a scatterbrain, like he doesn’t know anything! He looks at the menu upside down… another fit of giggles… I’m going to put a lid on this…

  “You’re crazy, aren’t you, Ten-Paw!”

  That’s what I dish out at him, in a harsh, no-nonsense voice… I want to rattle the son of a bitch!… No more hush-hush in his ear!… I psych myself up…

  “Ah!” he answers… sweetly suspicious… “Think so? Think so, young man!”

  He takes it as a compliment… about how snazzy he looks tonight… and then he moves right along, places his order, delighted! In a very loud trill on purpose! So that everybody at the surrounding tables can listen in… and I’m sniffing him, sniffing away, can’t stop… his reek from under the table packs a wallop!… It can knock you on your ass!

  “Ten-Paw! Ten-Paw!”

  I pour it on… I want that walking boneyard to catch on… Ah! All right already! His mind’s miles away, he’s big-mouthing off to the room at large, I’m not going to steal his thunder… he’s ranting against the movies… the hottest films… dope straight from the horse’s mouth… attracting glances attention… drawing all eyes on us how awful… everybody freezes forks in mid-air… he’s about to get in the way of the waiters, working himself up, gesticulating… plus gleaming deep in his eyes… a striking performance… And so he wraps up a tirade about the actors who are all the rage…

  “They’re all ghosts! Hee! Hee! Hee! They’re all ghosts!…”

  He thinks that’s the wittiest remark in the world, he wants us all to join in with his hee! hee! hee! but he’s just feeding these folks a line all the same… they think he’s an outrageous eccentric… they’re all ears… they’ve stopped swallowing… his success goes to his head! He’s on top of the world, fired up, the freak! His racket and that trill are horrendous, his whole bag of bones clinking, wriggling… and this reek in the restaurant!… The guy’s got verbal diarrhoea… bursting with more information than anybody around. He spins his yarns, and he knows what from! Dumbfounding his audience… the dirtiest dirt… the pig’s so snoopy! About the most famous stars… flipping back and forth between English and French… Mr International!… About Max Linder… Pearl White! About Judex! Suzanne Grandais!* He knows how to keep his public hooked… and don’t forget about the music-hall theatres! The stage actors, the clever wags… dirt on Basil Hallam, Ethel*… he’s especially enthused about Basil! The star attraction of the Strand Revue… Basil the charming lisper… the way Ten-Paw belts out all those choruses… you just had to hear… the way he lisps the lyrics in his quavering trill…

  I’m Gilbert the Filbert!

  The Prince of the nuts!

  He did a perfect impersonation… and everybody had to pick up the chorus! He beats time with h
is knife… and then he moves on to Ethel, with her mannish voice… here he’s a riot, he goes all out… Ethel Levey in her operetta…

  Watch your step! Watch your step!

  She’s an adventure!…

  The customers repeat the lyrics, mumbling… Damn! That ticks him off! Shh! Enough! Everybody just knock it off… Quiet! He has something important to say… he wants to tell me in secret… no, both of us, Virginia too!… We need to lean close to his mouth… This gets really gross again… he wants to whisper right up against our ears.

  “Listen,” he goes to me. “Listen to me good! Gloria Day* mean anything to you? No! No! Not her!” he changes his mind… “No, she’s not the one! Nope! Goddamn it, not her!”

  What a big boo-boo! He bops his skull – bonk! bonk! bonk! – with his knife handle, the way I did on the bed frame… His head sounds hollow… but this gets his brain working… jogs loose the facts… eloquently…

  “Gaby Deslys!* Ladies and gentlemen! Gaby Deslys! That’s the woman!…”

  He addresses the entire restaurant.