by Aidan Truhen
“Shiiiit…”
“Yeah Price, nowhere is that how people do. Not Laos not Afghanistan not Mexico. Those places they can do like constant war they can get violent sure but they are not crazy in the Appenzellers. That is unreal. Nowhere in the world is like that except that I know two demographics where that is normal: Switzerland is one.”
“And the other?”
“Is you Price.”
“Me?”
“That whole fucking country is made from you.”
“…”
“…Oh crap, should maybe not have put it that way—”
“…Yeah now we’re definitely going.”
* * *
—
We get in the jet and we go.
I say our jet like we have one jet but I’m pretty sure there are lots. When you really have a jet—rather than a jet has you—then you do not need to know how many jets you have. You possess the quality of jetness and that is all. The quality of jetness is not only about physical jetness it is about your modus again or in fact the world’s modus in dealing with you. When you just travel by air there are forms and customs and such but when you possess the quality of jetness there are not. There is just a guy on the runway in Canada called Barton.
“Hi I’m Barton I’m your excise liaison for the Platinum Traveler Global Program how can I help you today?”
“Hi Barton my name is Jack Price I possess the quality of jetness I wish to land in Switzerland with my jet here is money.”
“Yes Mr. Price one thing I see on the manifest here we have items seven and twenty-two and I wonder if maybe you are doing a little joshing.”
“There is no josh Barton.”
“Thing is sir those are what we call red-ticket items sir they’re kinda not okay.”
“Well let’s take them one by one Barton and see what we can do.”
“Well okay Mr. Price so item seven is a human head on a stick?”
“It is completely okay really.”
“It is sir?”
“Yes Barton it is that would be Fred. He is a really interesting piece by the artist Banjo Telemark which I’m proud to own. We’ve got him in Perspex here and he’s all cased up for transport but he comes with me everywhere you see like a kind of personal good-luck piece.”
“I don’t know of Mr. Telemark sir.”
“No he is a very exclusive sort of artist Barton like a kind of secret brand for the haute concept set is what. It’s like you know the Turner Prize in London where they give money to some really fucked-up piece like a cow cut in half right?”
“I do sir yes I guess.”
“Well Banjo Telemark pisses on the Turner Prize Barton. He would not accept the Turner Prize if they offered it to him because it is selling out. Banjo is like the unknown god of art in the twenty-first century and he is completely uncompromising. He does not explain or mediate his work and he does not supply provenances for his items so I have no paperwork on Fred.”
“That’s kinda your problem right there sir.”
“I am very rich Barton.”
“Yes sir.”
“I am super-giant-fucking-jet rich. My friends here are also individually super-giant-jet-rich this means that we are like exponentially rich although mathematically that is not true of course but functionally in the real universe and world it is true. We are singularity rich if you like, Barton do you know what that means?”
“Yes sir.”
“If I wanted paperwork for Fred I could have someone make it for me. I could procure it illegitimately. But I don’t because respect Barton I respect the law and I respect Banjo Telemark’s art and part of that art is the creation of concern, watchfulness and uncertainty Barton. He wants you to have this experience. He wants me to have this experience. When I bought Fred it was part of the conditions of sale that I would take him with me on cross-border travel. This, what is happening right now between us, this is Banjo’s art. Not the head. The head is the pretext for the creation of spontaneous situational ambiguity, Barton. Do you see?”
“Uh—”
“He’s heavily influenced by Warhol.”
“Oh is he?”
“Yes.”
“Uh, okay, I guess, I’ll talk to the guys about that and see what we can do there sir but we really do have to discuss item twenty-two.”
“It seems entirely self-explanatory to me Barton.”
“Item twenty-two is an adult male human in a box sir.”
“Alive, Barton.”
“Yes sir I noticed that.”
“That’s Sean, Barton.”
“Okay.”
“This is a friend of mine. He accompanies me wherever I go.”
“Sir.”
“He never leaves that box. Hi in there!”
“Gnar-fnarr-gnabbit-fnee!”
“He wears a gag Barton so he can’t really communicate. But look at his eyes. What do they express to you?”
“I think he’s real unhappy sir.”
“Yes yes he is. More than anything else he wants you to notice him. He’s a narcissist but that’s not why he wants you to notice him. He wants you to notice him because every time we enter a new country he thinks maybe he will have a chance at escaping from that box. Do you know who my friend there is Barton?”
“No sir—wait is it Banjo Telemark? Like himself in person? Is this more of his art sir? Or are you—wait that’s it, isn’t it, you’re Banjo Telemark? This is all a whole thing that you’re doing.”
“…Wow.”
“That’s right isn’t it sir and I’m going to be part of your next show like Amazed Man or something and there’ll be a picture and so on?”
“Holy shit Barton.”
“Sir?”
“No, Barton, but that is a totally awesome idea you have there and I really have to commend your creativity. I was gonna go with some other crap I have been working on but—wow dude that is just golden. Doc did you hear this guy?”
“Yes Price it is a terrible idea.”
“No man no it’s like—no it’s perfect is what it is I love it.”
“No.”
“Yes Doc yes. There is an actual art fair where we are going and it is like tomorrow and it is perfect everything is perfect.”
“Banjo Telemark. I think I have died.”
“No Doc it will be amazing. Okay. Barton?”
“Yes sir?”
“Barton look I’m gonna level with you because we should be friends after that—like—that absolutely astounding thing that just fell out of your face like fucking Pallas Athena into the—never mind that now here’s what it is. You see that fucker over there with the Russian-looking smile and the pool cue?”
“Yes sir I see the gentleman but he is not smiling.”
“Oh yes Barton yes he is. He is a smiling-on-the-inside person Barton.”
“Uh okay sir.”
“That is Volodya the sniper. He is a total international bastard. He’s wanted in so many places we don’t even bother to check anymore. I think the only place he’s not wanted is Belize don’t ask me why not it’s like maybe a filing oversight or something.”
“Uh right.”
“Basically we’re all just horrible bastards Barton is what it is. That guy in the box there did a bad thing and pissed me off and now I’m keeping him like that basically forever. It was a straightforwardly bad thing okay I’m not kidding and it wasn’t what you call it morally ambiguous but it was a shit ton less bad than the stuff we do on a regular basis so I’m not gonna try to tell you I’m some kind of avenging angel or whatever. Avenging asshole maybe you could say only maybe don’t because—yeah okay anyway. Head on a stick, guy in a box. Bad people. I will give you fifteen million American dollars, untraceable, to write that the noted artist Banjo Telemar
k who is heavily influenced by Warhol came through here with one of his freaky art stunts and his magically hot manager lady and some alarming art flunkies and consultants and bodyguards and what all and you will nod this whole collection through as massively significant modern art and you will never hear about it again. Or you can go confer with your friends in the office and I will offer them the same money and they will take it because I will also explain to them that if they don’t take it Volodya will one day come to their house and kill them and their family and friends and anyone they happen to live near and so on in a kind of biblical propagating extinction wave that will end in the death of I don’t know some really nice old lady in Kamchatka or something like in that game and she will die saying what the actual fuck and I will tell her before she goes that it was all your fault but you will not care because when I go and talk to your friends and colleagues in there the manifest will have item thirty-one Another Human Head Still Wet okay Barton so let’s just take the low road today my Canadian friend. This is where you say oh yah I guess.”
“Oh—”
“Come on Barton it’s okay this is the best day of your life man you’re rich and you’re alive.”
“Oh—oh my—oh yah I guess sir.”
“Yes Mr. Telemark Barton.”
“Oh yah yes Mr. Telemark.”
“You know the weird thing Barton is that in my own way I am an artist and this has exposed a deep and profound truth not just to the world but to me, which makes you I suppose some sort of muse or possibly I am your art right now, which is like heavy shit.”
“Oh wow sir.”
“Cool now let’s get this stuff in the car. You got your account number?”
“Uh yes sir.”
“You thought I was kidding about the fifteen mil I guess.”
“I—”
“You’re rich Barton. It’s really gonna be okay.”
“…Fuck!”
“There we are.”
“Go team sir!”
“Go team Barton. Go team.”
And that’s it we are on our way.
* * *
—
I stare out of the window into jetworld. Up is dark blue, down is cloud and that is all there is in the universe. After a while I eat Chinese food because Chinese food is good at altitude.
Doc says: “What’s in the box?”
“Firecracker chicken and rice. Rex and Lucille have the pork noodles, and Charlie and Volodya stole the crispy duck. The Russian is a sucker for those little pancakes I guess.”
“Give me the chicken.”
“But then I will have no chicken.”
“That is crime Price someone always gets no chicken.”
* * *
—
And then we arrive.
* * *
—
This is Bern it is eight hundred years old and has some people in it we will say a half a million if you count the whole sprawl, which is not a sprawl more like a kind of lotus or zazen. It is also is the capital of Switzerland and nothing un-Swiss is allowed to happen here and if it does they have actual bears in actual pits that they can feed it to I am not even slightly kidding. They do not do this of course because it would be bad for the bears but motherfucker the implication is right there on the cantonal flag: it is only because we are so fucking civilized that we care about the gastric comfort of bears that we are not going with the traditional option.
The actual technical city is small and pretty and ancient and there’s this clock and a river and you should totally go it will make you glad. It is the headquarters of the International Peace Bureau and the International Climbing and Mountaineering Federation and the United International Bureaux for the Protection of Intellectual Property and the World Jewellery Confederation and that actually tells you pretty much everything except that Volodya says that also it is typical of all places filled with rich highly educated respectable people who stay in shape and wear nice clothes in that it is like Babylon. They cannot stop with the erotic sexual boning. Volodya says Bern is spring break for museum curators.
Museum curators some of whom are evidently rich as oil barons because there are quite a few giant fucking jets here.
One of which completely parks me in.
Like parks in my giant fucking jet so I cannot put it in the shady spot which I wanted.
Seriously who does that?
* * *
—
This is not a pretty plane it is horrible. There are aesthetics in aircraft design as well as like you know the basic constraints of aerodynamics and there is shit that is not done and this thing does all of them it is green.
It is green I mean not like branding not like gemstones like oxidized copper like fucking rust. It has rust running down it and it smells like jet fuel from someplace that also sells moonshine liquor and babies in that order. It has giant rivets on the outside and these rivets hold on green rusted metal plates and it has chunky engine thingamabobs on the wings that look less jet-y and more like you are supposed to get out and push. There are actual horses in the fucking horsepower it is a horseshit plane.
I do not like it at all and it is in my space that is the space I reserved on Volodya’s advice like from before we took off and that is a giant fucking jet thing that you can do and this thing is in.
My. Space.
Bonk bonk bonk “Hi it is Jack hello?”
No answer.
BONK BONK BONK “HI IT IS JACK I AM VERY RICH ALSO I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE THEY HAVE TOLD ME YOUR STINKPLANE IS IN MY WAY.”
The cockpit has metal plates over the window like a fucking tennis family minivan like sunshades like it is an old fucked-up RV. Little rivety screw thing turns and the plate opens. Lady voice says:
“Hi Jack fuck off bye.”
BONK BONK “HEY—”
“Fuck. Off.”
BONK BONKY RATATATA BONK BONKABONK—
“Are we gonna have a PROBLEM here Jack is that what this is?”
“Yeah lady we are having one right now your plane is in my space.”
“Yeah well it’s a relief plane asshole like a starving-villages drought-stricken parachute-drop humanitarian plane we get to park where the fuck we like. Be gone in half a day park someplace else they have given you a number for your penis plane no doubt.”
“It is not my penis plane.”
“You borrowed someone else’s penis?”
“No he is dead also too I—”
“It’s a dead guy’s penis? You are flying around the globe in a dead guy’s penis you are fucked-up.”
“…You are not much like any charity-relief fly person I have ever known.”
“Yeah I am and you would only say that if you had never met any of us you capitalist prick.”
“…Actually that’s fair.”
“Fuck off fancy boy I am listening to my music in here.”
“O rly what music would that be?”
“The fucking ‘Largo al factotum della città.’ Like FIGARO FIGARO FIGARO like that.”
“O Mozart—”
“No asshole that is The Marriage of Figaro this is Rossini I swear if I had a franc—”
“…Okay this has been great move your damn plane.”
“This is not just any plane it is a lady plane like a duchess or whatever.”
“Your duchess looks like a dildo with wings and not a nice one one of those weird ones the tattooed kids use in their nasty interporns.”
“This plane—my plane that you are right now—go fuck yourself—seriously though fuck you—it is—no not it she: she is a LADY—this LADY is a modified Xi’an Y-20 military cargo plane with prototype gimbal-mounted quad WS-20s in a VTOL configuration. You do not ask a lady like that to get up and go someplace else so you can manspread your nasty dead man�
�s penis.”
“…”
“…”
“…You wanna go again?”
“No but you’re right that got weird but even so you do not ask this plane to move.”
“Yes I do.”
“Nope.”
“Yup.”
“Nope.”
“Yup.”
CLANG. (Loud opera.)
RINGADYDINGALING “Hello ground control this is Jack Price there is a flying turd in my parking space make it go away it is harshing my obscene wealth buzz and I am deciding I do not like your airport in five four three—well thank you that will be fine.”
A little truck comes and attaches itself to the wheels of the flying turd and starts to pull it away.
The plate opens and a slender black hand pokes out and flips me the bird.
“Figaro Figaro Jack if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah whatever lady take it up with Mozart.”
“ROSSINI o whatever asshole whatever.”
* * *
—
Bern is also where our lawyer is—that is to say Sharkey has a lawyer here and his name is Reinhard and Reinhard is to facilitate our efforts.
Reinhard says: “Hallo! My name is Reinhard I am pleased to meet you.”
Reinhard is tall and slim and wide in the shoulder so that he looks like you could put him on and wear him like a cape. He has silver hair and a surfer tan and real even white teeth. When he smiles he makes me think of Bing Crosby if Bing was stretched upward about a quarter mile. He is obnoxiously healthy I bet he cycles up mountains at the weekend and eats granola. He probably makes his own granola with some sort of heavy stone instrument in a stone-and-wood barn while his equally youthful wife does mindfulness training with the Swiss rifle team. Reinhard makes me feel fat and I am not fat I am in perfectly good shape for someone who does not actually want to appear in a swimsuit commercial. Plus also he is really likable even Charlie is smiling and Charlie will usually sneer at anyone who wears Brioni just because Brioni.