Death on the Installment Plan

by Louis-Ferdinand Celine

  The time had come for Robert and me to climb up on the kitchen stove and watch the show … It was a good place … ringside … You could see the whole bed … we couldn’t miss a trick. Right away Antoine pushed the fat mama down on her knees … He was awfully brutal … She had her ass up in the air … He tickled and teased her … He couldn’t find her dingbat … He tore her ruffles … he tore everything in sight … And then he attacked … He took out his cock … He began to charge her … And it was no make-believe … I hadn’t expected he could be so wild … I couldn’t get over it. He was grunting like a pig … She was making noises too … Louder and more piercing every time he charged. Robert had told me the truth about her ass … We could see it good now … All red … enormous, scarlet! Her fine lace panties were all in tatters … and sopping wet … Antoine was coming in like a battering ram … You could hear the smack … They wrestled like savages … The way he was going at her I was sure he’d kill her … His pants were dragging on the floor … His smock was still in his way, he ripped it off with one tug … It fell right next to us … He was naked now … Except he still had his slippers on, the boss’s, the ones with the embroidered kittens … He was so excited he skidded on the carpet … He banged his head against the bar of the bed … he was madder than a hornet … he felt his head … he had bumps. He slipped out … He bounded back in a fury … “You stinking bitch!” he bellows at her. “You lousy whore!” He drives his knee into her ribs. She tries to get away, she begins to simper and moan… .

  “Antoine, oh, Antoine darling, I can’t stand it … Stop, I implore you … Be careful … Don’t make me a kid! I’m wringing wet.”

  That was for the birds, she was asking for more.

  “Go on, you old cow, shut your trap. Open your basket.”

  He didn’t listen to her. He put her back on again with three enormous clouts in the gizzard … Bam! they resounded … She gasped for breath, the stinker … She wheezed like a bellows … I wondered if he was going to kill her … finish her off on the spot! … He gave her another vicious clout … right while he was pumping … They were both roaring like wild animals … She was coming … Robert was green around the gills. We climbed down off our diving board … We went back to the workbench … We didn’t say a word … We’d wanted a show … we’d had our money’s worth … Except it was dangerous … The corrida was still going on. We went down to the court … to get the pail and brooms, supposedly to clean up … We went in to see the concierge, we thought that was a better place to be in case he strangled her …

  There was no tragedy and no corpse … They came out beaming … we just had to get used to it …

  The next few days we ordered provisions from all over, from three different grocers, on the rue des Écouffes and the rue Beaubourg, who didn’t know us yet … We set up a whole food department and quite a cellar too, beer and sparkling Malvoisin, all on credit. We were going to the dogs …

  I found excuses for not eating with my people at home. It was getting to be something on the rue Elzévir, we never stopped pouring it down. We didn’t do a lick of work. In the afternoon, about four o’clock, Robert and I would wait for the corrida to start … We weren’t scared anymore … It didn’t excite us so much either.

  Besides, Antoine was weakening, the fight had gone out of him, the least little effort was making him winded.

  She began to resist … to fight him off. Then his fury came back … It was a regular circus … She was braying like a jackass … He kept skidding every time he tried … He couldn’t get it in anymore … So he jumps out of bed and heads straight for the kitchen … Luckily, being as we were on top of the stove, he didn’t see us, he was too hot and bothered … He went right by and began rummaging around the cupboard, just like that, mother-naked in his slippers … He was looking for the butter dish … his cock kept bumping into things:

  “Ow ouch, oh oh ouch!” he kept yelping. We were in stitches … Christ, it was funny … we thought we’d explode… .

  “The butter, damn it, the butter! …”

  Finally he found his dish … He took a whole ladleful … He went back with a whole mess of it … He runs back to the bed quick … She was putting on airs again … wriggling and writhing … He buttered her treasure, the whole thing and all around it, slowly and very carefully, like a specialist … She was all shiny … He had no trouble … He took her by storm … It went in easy … The excitement was terrific … They let out piercing yells … They collapsed on their sides. Then fiat on their backs … They went to sleep …

  It wasn’t any fun anymore …

  The first ones to make a stink were the grocers on the rue Berce … They refused to give us any more food on the cuff … They came around with their bills … We heard them coming up … We didn’t answer …

  They went back down to the concierge … They raised hell … Things were getting rough. So then Antoine and the patronne began going out all the time, they did their drinking on the outside, they ran up terrible bills in every joint in the neighborhood … I didn’t breathe a word about all this at home … They’d have blamed it all on me … They’d have thought I was at the bottom of all the monkeyshines.

  The main thing was the jewel case … That solid gold Sakya-Muni … I didn’t let him run around, he didn’t get out much. I kept him very carefully way down in the bottom of my pocket … and fastened with three diaper pins. I had stopped showing it to people, I didn’t trust anybody anymore … I was waiting for the boss to come back.

  In the shop Robert and I took it easy … Antoine hardly did a lick of work. After their parties he and the old bitch would come in and kid around with us. We turned the whole place into a shambles. Meanwhile in the afternoon they’d saw wood for hours … We were one happy family … as thick as thieves and twice as sticky.

  But one night the ax fell. We hadn’t bolted the door … It was dinner time … There was a lot of bustle on all the landings … So one of our enraged liquor suppliers, the meanest of the lot, comes dashing up the stairs, four at a time … We didn’t hear him until it was much too late. He opens the door, he comes in … He finds the two of them in bed! Antoine and Her Fatness … He begins to yap like a dozen seals … His eyes were all bloodshot … He wanted to murder Antoine on the spot. He was brandishing his big hammer … I thought he was going to emboss him one …

  It was true, we owed him plenty … for at least twenty-five bottles … white … rosé … cognac, and even vinegar … It degenerated into a pitched battle … It took eight of us to handle that gorilla… . We called in all our friends … Antoine was bleeding like a stuck pig … he had two enormous shiners … a blue one and a yellow one …

  From downstairs in the court he went on threatening us. He was delirious. He called us every name in the book: “Crooks! … Scum! … Cocksuckers! …”

  “You just wait, you lousy chiselers. You’ll hear from me … Sooner than you think, you crumb-bums … You’ll see when the police get here.”

  Things were getting sticky …

  The next day, in the afternoon, I say to Robert: “Listen, kid. I got to go out. They came around again from Tracard’s this morning asking for their brooch, it should have been delivered at least a week ago …” “OK,” he says, “I got to go out too. I got a date with a guy on the corner outside the Matin.”

  The two of us race down the stairs … Neither Antoine nor the patronne had been home for lunch …

  When we get to the third-floor landing, I hear her coming up … All out of breath, red in the face, incandescent … They must have been eating too much …

  “Where are you going, Ferdinand?”

  “Just a little errand … On the boulevard … to see a customer.”

  “Oh, don’t go,” she said. She seemed put out. “Come back upstairs a minute … I’ve got something to tell you.”

  OK. I go back upstairs with her. Robert runs off to his date.

  The minute we get in she closes the door, she locks everythin
g, she pushes both bolts … She steps in ahead of me, she goes into the bedroom … She motions me to come in too … I come closer … I wonder what’s going to happen … She starts feeling me up … She blows up my nose … “Ah! Ah!” she goes. That excites her … I pet her a little too …

  “Oh, what a little pig! I hear you look through keyholes … Is that right? … Oh! … tell me it isn’t true …” With one hand she starts massaging me underneath …

  “I’m going to tell your mama. Oh what a little pig! Oh, sweet little pig! …”

  She begins to gnash her teeth … She begins to wriggle … She clutches me … She sticks in her tongue, à real lowdown kiss … I see stars … She makes me sit down beside her on the bed … She flops down backwards … Suddenly she hikes up her skirts …

  “Touch me!” she says. “Touch me down there.”

  I put my hand on …

  “Go ahead!” she insists … “Go ahead, angel dumpling … Go ahead … Call me Louison! Your Louison! You slimy little pig! Call me … You will, won’t you? …”

  “Yes, Louison,” I say.

  She sits up, she kisses me again. She takes everything off … blouse … corset … shift … I see her all naked . . her thingamajig so voluminous … spread out all over the place … It was too much … I was sick to my stomach … She grabs me by the ears … She pulls me down to mother nature … She bends me with all her might … My nose is in a hell of a state … It’s dazzling and all runny … It’s all over my neck … She makes me kiss it . . at first it tastes like fish, then like a dog’s muzzle …

  “Go on, little love. Go on, don’t be bashful.”

  She manhandles me, she pesters the life out of me … I’m up to my ears in marmalade … I’m afraid to sniff too hard … I’m afraid of hurting her … She’s shaking like an apple tree …

  “Bite me, sweet little puppy … Bite into it! Go ahead,” she encourages me. She’s heaving like mad! She lets out little squeals … I plunge in deep … it smells like eggs and shit … My collar is strangling me … the celluloid … She pulls me out of the pit … I come up for air … My eyes are like covered with varnish, even my eyebrows are all sticky …

  “Get undressed,” she orders me. “Take all that stuff off. I want to see your cunning little body. Quick. Quick. You’ll see, you little rascal. You a virgin? Tell me, angel. You’ll see how I’m going to love you up … Oh, what a nasty little pig! I’ll teach you to look through keyholes …”

  She billowed and writhed while waiting for me … The whole bed was zigzagging … She was a regular vampire …

  I didn’t dare take off too much. Just the choker that was killing me … and my coat and vest … She hung them up beside the bed, on the back of the chair … I didn’t want to take everything off … the way Antoine did … I knew my ass was shitty and my feet coal-black … I could smell myself … To keep her from insisting. I started up again as fast as I could … I played the ardent lover, I climbed, I squeezed, I grunted … I charged like Antoine, but much more gently … I felt my thingamajig sailing all around … I was lost in the foam … I didn’t dare use my fingers, though that’s what I should have done … I scrabbled around in her moustache … Finally it slipped right in … all by itself … She squashed me against her tits! She was having a hell of a good time … It was stifling … it was like a furnace … She wanted me to work harder … She didn’t beg for pity like with that bastard … Oh, no, she wanted me to be more brutal …

  “Deeper, angel. Deeper, don’t be afraid. My, what a big fat one you’ve got … Ah … ah … you’re ripping me apart, you big thug! … Oh, rip me … Are you coming? … Oh, say yes! … Oh, oh! You’re killing me, you little bastard! My big little skunk! Isn’t it good?” And bam, I plowed into her … I was done in. I lay down on the job … She blew in my face … I had a noseful … from her licking too … garlic … Roquefort … they’d been eating sausage …

  “Swoon good, little pet! Oh, swoon … We’ll die together! … Aren’t you going to, little treasure! … You’re killing me … There … Don’t worry about me …” She swooned, she began to list … She turned over almost on top of me … I felt my chip coming …

  Suddenly I say to myself: “Cheese it, kid.” I was out cold, but just the same … One two three … I wrench myself loose … I pull it out … It gushes all over my belly … I try to squeeze … I get a handful …

  “Oh, what a little beast!” she hollers. “Oh, what a slimy little toad! … Come quick and let me clean you up …” She goes for my pecker … She makes a meal of it … She likes the sauce … “Oh, what a delicious little dessert!” she squeals. She goes looking for it all over my legs … She pokes into the folds … She’s really thorough … She’s going to swoon again … She’s down on her knees, clinging to my legs, she contracts, she relaxes … Fat ass and all, she’s as nimble as a cat. She forces me down on her again … “I’ll show you, you little louse,” she says roguishly. She sticks two fingers into my opening. She forces me. What a scrimmage! The stinker, the way she’s steamed up, she’ll be at it all day!

  “Oh,” it suddenly occurs to her. “I’ve got to take a douche.” With one jump she was out of the room. I hear her pissing in the kitchen … She’s rummaging under the sink … “Wait for me, angel,” she sings out … I’ve had enough. I jump into my suit … I grab the door, I push it open, I’m on the landing … I take the stairs four at a time … I take a good deep breath … I’m out in the street … It’s time to think things over … I catch my breath … I walk slowly toward the boulevards.

  When I got to the Ambigu, I finally sat down. I pick up a newspaper from the sidewalk. I’m just beginning to read … I don’t know why … I feel my pocket … I did it without thinking … A sudden inspiration … I feel again … I can’t find the bump … I feel the other … Same result. I haven’t got it anymore … My jewel case is gone. I look for it harder and harder … I feel all my linings … My pants … inside … outside … nothing doing … I go to the can … I undress completely … I turn everything inside out … Nothing … I’m not blind … The blood boils in my veins … I sit down on the steps again … I’m cooked … and good! … I’m really screwed … I pull out my pockets again … And again … But I’ve given up hope … I remember perfectly … I’d pinned it all right …Way in the bottom of my inside pocket. I’d felt it before going out with Robert … The safety pins were gone … They hadn’t come out all by themselves … All of a sudden I remembered the funny way she’d held me by the head the whole time … And on the other side of the chair … she’d been working with one hand … It all came to me in waves … Fright, terror welled up in me … straight up from my heart … It pounded worse than forty-nine truck horses … My whole head shook … That didn’t do any good … I began to look again … The case couldn’t have fallen … it couldn’t have slipped out the way I’d pinned it … Impossible … Diaper pins don’t open so easy … And there were three of them … They don’t come open all by themselves! To make sure I wasn’t dreaming I ran back toward the Place de la République … When I got to the rue Elzévir, there was nobody home … They’d all gone out … I waited on the stairs … until seven o’clock, to see if they’d come in … Nobody came …

  I tried to put things together … words … snatches of talk … incidents. It all came to me little by little … Suppose Antoine had engineered it? And what about little Robert? … Maybe they were both in on it … in cahoots with the bitch … When I stood up, I couldn’t feel my two legs … I went down the street like I was drunk … The people noticed me … I stayed a while in the little tunnel by the Porte Saint-Denis. I was afraid to come out … I saw the buses in the distance, swaying in the heat … I felt dizzy … I didn’t get back to the Passage until late … I said I had a bellyache … That stopped them from asking questions … I had such cramps I didn’t sleep all night … Next day I was out at the crack of dawn, I was in such a hurry to know …

  When I got to the shop, I took a
good look at all three of them … They didn’t seem to be thinking anything … neither the bitch … nor Antoine … nor the kid … When I told them the pin had been lost, they gaped at me … they were flabbergasted …

  “What’s that, Ferdinand? You’re sure? Have you taken a good look at home? … Turn your pockets inside out … We haven’t found anything here … How about it, Robert? … You didn’t see anything?” It was the kid who swept … “You’d better sweep again… .”

  The way they talked, they seemed so savage, so villainous that I began to bawl … I could see them in the mirror, making little signs to each other … Antoine avoided looking at me … He kept his back turned, he pretended to be cleaning his emery stone … She went on blowing hot air … trying to trip me up, to make me contradict myself.

  “You don’t remember at Tracard’s … Didn’t you say you were going there? … Maybe you left it there … Are you sure? …”

  I was floundering in the soup … What a vicious rotten trick! … There wasn’t a thing I could do … I was cooked … Nobody’d believe me if I told the truth … What was the use?

  “The boss will be back the day after tomorrow … Try to find it before then … Robert will help you …” She was full of ideas. Any way you looked at it I was screwed … If I went into details, they’d call me an impostor, a horrible abject monster … trying to wriggle out by slandering the boss’s wife, so good, so kind … Had I no shame? … What colossal gall! … what a preposterous calumny! … what monumental villainy! … I didn’t even try to defend myself … I didn’t even feel like it anymore … I couldn’t eat … My head was all stuffed up … my mind, my mouth, my whole face …

  My mother thought I was looking odd, she wondered what ailment I could be coming down with … My guts were all tied up with fear … I wanted to disappear … to get so thin there’d be nothing left …