“Christ almighty! It’s too much,” she yells all of a sudden.
“Too much! Too much! You said it! …” He’s off the handle too. He stands right up to her … He’s not going to take it lying down … He clucks like a rooster.
“Ah, it’s too much! Too much, you say? Well, my dear, I regret nothing! No, absolutely! Nothing, nothing!”
“Ah, you miserable stinker! You regret nothing? … You’re perfectly happy, aren’t you? And what about the house? … Have you thought about the payments? They’ll be coming back on Saturday, my friend … Saturday, not a day more … Have you got those twelve hundred francs? Have you got them on you? … We promised … They’re expecting them … They’re coming at twelve! … Have you got them on you? … Not at one o’clock, at twelve!”
“Balls and counterballs! To hell with your cottage … You know what you can do with it … The events have set me free … Do you understand that, you blockhead? … No bitterness or rancor! No debts or protests! … To hell with it all! Do you hear? I shit on the whole business; I …”
“Shit! Shit! Debts! Debts! All I want to know is whether you’ve got the money on you, you big jerk … Ferdinand, he’s got six hundred smackers in all, I know that … Have you got the money, Ferdinand? … You haven’t lost it? It’s twelve hundred francs they’re coming for, not six … Can’t you get it through your head?”
“Bah! Foo! Never a step backward! … Gangrene! … You want to defend gangrene? … It’s got to be amputated! … Don’t you know that, you big hunk of baloney! It’s got to be amputated high up! Say, have you been drinking up all the white wine? I can smell it from here. High up! Garlic! What do you want to save? Say, your breath stinks! The rotten stump? The maggots? The flies? The bubo? No putrid flesh for me! I won’t make another move! Not one, you hear me? … Never, you fishwife, as long as I live … Defeat! Recantation! Guile! Oh no! My toe! Do you expect me to jerk off my executioners? … Me? Never! … Do you hear me, Ferdinand? … Profit from what you see! Observe! Try to recognize grandeur when you see it, Ferdinand! You won’t see much of it in this world!”
“My goodness, it’s you that’s been drinking … Why, you’ve both been drinking … They come here drunk, the rotters! … And then they have the gall to cuss me out!”
“Grandeur, detachment, you simpleton! I’m going away! Did you know that? … You know nothing! … Far away! Even farther! I’m telling you! I despise their provocations, even the foulest … the most sickening! What unspeakable vileness germinates in those unclean goatskins? … those mangy curs? … What is the measure of my essence? Nobility, you old bag … Do you hear? You who stink of garliacic acid! Do you get me, you shallot? Nobility! Are you listening? Shit on your Gavotte and double shit! Nobility! Light! Ineffable wisdom! … Ah! O delirious bandits! Demons of pillage! … O Marignan! O debacle, poor little Ferdinand! I can’t believe my eyes! nor my own voice! I’m magical! I’m carried away! O turn of events! … Only yesterday at my zenith! Overloaded with favors! Adulated! Plagiarized! Pursued! Feted like a god! What am I saying? Consulted from all over the world! You’ve seen it, you’ve read about it! And today? Crash bang! Nothing! The bolt has struck … Nothing … Anatom … The atom, it is I! … But the atom, Ferdinand, is everything … Exile, Ferdinand! … Exile?” His voice was drowned in sadness … “Yes! That’s it! I am finding myself! Destiny is opening its gates! Exile? So be it! You and I … I’ve been praying for it too long! And now it’s come! The blow has fallen, transcendent … Hosannah … irrevocable! … Villainy has thrown off her mask … At last … She owed me that … All these years she’s been tracking me, undermining me, exhausting me! … But now, compensation! … She shows herself! I uncover her! And I ravish her … to the full! Ah yes! She is forced to my will, seething! On the public square! … What a vision, Ferdinand! … What a spectacle! … O Irène, all my desires are fulfilled! … Frothing, bleeding, howling! Do you hear me? … This very afternoon we saw her attacking our proud journal! Assaulting the human spirit! Ferdinand here is my witness! Wounded, bruised, mutilated! … And yet I collect myself, I pull myself together, I wrench myself away from the nightmare! Oh, what a foul battle! But the bladder has burst! The gall has gushed in all directions! … hit me square in the eyes! But my spirit is intact. Oh, the pure, the proud reward! Oh! And above all, no compromise! Get that through your heads, the whole lot of you! You expect me to cajole my executioners? Give me cold steel instead! Or fire! … Anything, but not that! Bah! … The gods are conspiring! So be it! … They honor me with the bitterest of gifts! Hatred, the hatred of vultures! … Exile? … Will I refuse it? I? You don’t know me … They’re putting me to the test! Let them! …” That handed him a laugh. “They choose to put me to the test? … I’m flattered … I could roar with pride! … Too cruel? … Hum, hum! we’ll see! It’s an affair between gods and men! … You want to know how I’ll manage, Ferdinand? … Don’t worry, friend! Don’t worry … You won’t be bored! See here, Ferdinand, you who like to roam around, you know the Panthéon? … Tell me, poor muddlehead, haven’t you ever noticed anything? You’ve never seen the Thinker? He’s there on his pedestal … He’s there … And what’s he doing? Eh, Ferdinand? He’s thinking, my boy. That’s right. Nothing else. He’s thinking. Well, Ferdinand! He’s alone! … There you have it! I’m alone too! … He’s naked! I’m naked too … What can you do for me, you poor little creatures? …” He was feeling sorry for us, the old cutie and me … “Nothing! You in a pinch! … poor child, benighted by your endocrine glands, tormented by growing pains, in short invertebrate! Poor gastropod, destroyed by the slightest dream … As for my old goblin here, what useful or useless thing could she give me? A touching echo of years long dead … Trials! Forgotten hardships! Worm-eaten winters! Carrion! …”
“What’s that you called me? … Say it again … Say it again quick so I can hear you.” She hadn’t liked those last words. “Are you trying to make a fool of me? Just tell me that, you flyspeck!”
She didn’t care for allusive language … She threatened him with a vase, she demanded further details …
“Don’t listen to him, Ferdinand! Don’t listen to him! … He’s just telling more lies! Nothing else comes out of his mouth … What have you been doing in the kitchen? Tell me this minute! … What’s become of my marshmallow root? … You don’t know? … He’s stolen that too! … And on my washstand … The bicarbonate? You don’t know that either? … You took an enema with it! … Don’t try to deny it! And my Vais water? Where did you put it? … He respects nothing! I’d bought it specially to take on Sunday …”
“Leave me alone, can’t you? Let me think. You molest me, you harass me, you exasperate me! … How obtuse you are, my good darling, my sweet little cherub! …”
At that she tears her hat off, sniffs up her snot, and toys with the back of the big heavy chair …
“Answer me,” she menaces, “what have you done with my marshmallow root?”
He has no answer … she begins to lift the chair … she’s clutching the two struts … He sees her … He lunges over to the sewing table … picks it up under the drawer … They’re both nicely armed … This is going to be quite an argument … I take refuge in the chimney corner … He parleys …
“My sweet angel, please! My sugarplum, I beg you! Listen to me! Just a word before you get excited … Listen to me! … Don’t break anything … I sold it! God! I’ve sold it all!”
“Sold? Sold? What have you sold?”
“Everything! Yes, everything! Only this morning! I’ve been standing on my head trying to tell you! To the Lémenthal Bank … to Monsieur Rambon! You know him … The lawyer. There was nothing else to do! It’s all over! Liquidated! Washed up! Down the drain! Do you understand? Do you understand me now, you stupid old goose! That takes the wind out of your sails, eh? It calms you down, doesn’t it? Tomorrow, see! They’re coming tomorrow morning! …”
“Tomorrow? Tomorrow? Tomorrow morning? …” she echoed. She was still in a drea
m.
“Yes, tomorrow. It’s all settled. All you have to do is sign the papers.”
“Oh, the blackguard! The monster! He’s tearing out my entrails! I’d never have thought it possible … Oh, what a numbskull I’ve been …”
She drops the chair, she slumps down on it … she lets her arms dangle, she’s out for the count … She sniffles and that’s all … She really wasn’t the stronger party, he’d got what he wanted … She looks across the table at him … that beastly lout over there in the distance … the way you’d look at a slimy octopus, a hideous monster in an aquarium … an incredible nightmare from another world … She couldn’t believe her eyes … There really wasn’t a thing she could do. It was no use trying … She gave up, she was completely beaten … She gave in to her grief … She sobbed so violently, she beat her head so hard against the sideboard that the dishes came tumbling out on the floor … A little thing like that couldn’t faze him … He pressed his advantage … He consolidated his position …
“Well now, Ferdinand? What do you say? Do you see? Do you realize … Now perhaps you’re beginning to understand what passionate intrepidity is … You see what I mean? Ah, my decision wasn’t made yesterday … it matured slowly, by God, and wisely … Examples? Epigones? We have plenty to offer you, madame. How many? Rafts of them. Illustrious examples! Take Marcus Aurelius! That’s right! What did that old bugger do? In very similar situations! Harassed! Maligned! Traduced! On the brink of succumbing under the welter of abject plots … of murderous perfidies … What did he do in such a case? … He withdrew, Ferdinand! … He abandoned the steps of the Forum to the jackals! Yes! In solitude! In exile! That’s where he sought his balm! That’s where he found new courage! … That’s right! … He took counsel of himself! And no one else! … He didn’t ask the mad dogs for their opinion! … No! Faugh! Ah, despicable recantation! … And what about Vergniaud? * The pure, ineffable Vergniaud! At the hour of carnage, when the vultures gathered over the charnel house? When the sickening smell rose up? What did he do, that man who was purest of the pure? … the very heart of wisdom … in those ravaged minutes where every lie means life? … Did he take back his words? Recant? Eat dirt? … No, he mounted his calvary alone … Alone, he rose above the crowd … He withdrew … Alone, he ushered in the great silence! He was silent! There you have it, Ferdinand … I too will be silent, dammit all! …”
Des Pereires wasn’t a very big man. He pulled himself up to his full height to harangue me better … But he was wedged in between the stove and the big sideboard … He didn’t have much room … He looks over at the two of us … He keeps on looking … An idea was budding in his brain …
“Wouldn’t you like to … go out?” he says … “to take a little stroll? … I want to be alone … Just for a minute … There’s something I’ve got to do … Please! I beg of you! Just for a second!”
That was a mighty odd proposition, especially at that time of night! Standing there in the doorway, all shriveled in her shawl, the old girl looked pretty mean.
“So now you’re throwing us out? … Say, you’re completely nuts.”
“Give me at least ten minutes. I don’t ask more. It’s indispensable! Imperative! Urgent! It’s just a little favor I’m asking of you … Leave me in peace for a second! All alone for just a second … You won’t? It won’t be any trouble … Take a turn around the garden … It’s much nicer outside than in … Go on, go on! I’ll call you. Can’t you understand?”
He kept at it. He didn’t have any big cellar like at the Genitron for his meditations … He only had three little rooms to pace around in … They were so stubborn, so obstinate, so contradictious I could see they were going to tear each other’s hair out if I didn’t take the old girl away … She was the worse hothead of the two … So I take her out in the hall …
“We’ll come back in five minutes,” I tell her … “Leave it to me … Let him stew in his juice . . He’s a pain in the neck … Anyway, I want to talk to you …”
She insisted on taking her lantern … It wasn’t a very good time for a stroll … It was pretty chilly out … She was tearing mad, take it from me … She was really broken up … She kept wailing the whole time.
“Imagine his doing this to me! The swine! The pervert! The scoundrel! To me, Ferdinand! To me! …”
Gesticulating, she skirted the fence … She stumbled a little with her lantern … She kept mumbling insults … We came to some garden frames … There she stopped … Still wailing and sniffling, she wanted to show me … she lifted the big pulleys … She wanted me to take a good look at the shoots and the little blades that were coming up … and the fine soil …
“I planted it all myself, Ferdinand … All by myself … He didn’t do it, oh no! rest assured …” I had to look again … The little turnips … and the little slugs … and the saucer for the pumpkin… She lifted all the lids … all the frames … There was enough chicory for an army … We went around every bed … Then she was exhausted … She told me, as we went along, about all the trouble she had in times of drought … It was she who pumped the water, she who carried the pitchers … from over there … from the faucet at the end of the walk … Her misery took her words away … She sat down, she stood up … I had to go look at the big rain barrel and see for myself that it wasn’t big enough …
“Oh yes,” she jumps up again. “You haven’t seen his system … It’s mighty cute … His precious invention … You really haven’t heard about it? … Well, believe me it’s a nightmare … He outdid himself! Of course I was against it … what would you expect? … My oh my! I gave him a good piece of my mind! I raised hell! But it was hopeless! Absolutely hopeless. He’s as stubborn as thirty-six mules! He slugged me! Well, I didn’t exactly pet him either, believe you me! And what for? So he could destroy the whole good side of the fence … And eighteen rows of carrots! Yes, eighteen! … And twenty-four artichokes! … For what purpose? To build a shed! … You should see the state it’s in … A sow wouldn’t find her eggs … A garbage can, I tell you … a cesspool! That’s what he did to my garden …”
We started off in that direction, she guided me with her light …
It actually was a little shanty … dug into the ground, almost entirely buried … only the roof stuck out … Inside I looked under the tarps … nothing but rubbish … a lot of broken-down instruments … all in a complete mess … and a big dynamo, completely clogged and rusted … a gas tank bottomside up … a bent flywheel … and a one-cylinder motor … That was Courtial’s invention … I knew a little something about it … The “Wave Generator”! … It was supposed to make plants grow … It was one of his ideas … There’d been a whole special number of the Genitron devoted to “The Future of Agriculture Thanks to Radiotellurism” … He’d written three manuals and a whole string of articles (with eighty diagrams) … explaining its use … In addition he’d given two lectures in Le Perreux and one in Juvisy to convince small farmers … It hadn’t gone over … And yet, according to des Pereires, with the help of a “Polarimeter” it was child’s play to radiate the roots of this or that vegetable or plant with those clusters of telluric rays which are otherwise ridiculously scattered, dispersed, and lost to the world! … “I bring you,” he said to them, “my subracinal spray, infinitely more useful than any water! An electric shower! Providential for beans!” According to him nothing was easier, with a small amount of equipment, than to make a salsify swell up to the size of a large turnip … The whole gamut of fructifying infra-terrestrial magnetism was made fully available! … Vegetables grown to meet the needs of every individual! In season! Out of season! … It was really quite an idea!
Unfortunately, harassed as he was by so many daily cares, by all the snags and setbacks connected with the operation of the Genitron, he had been unable to perfect the system … Especially the condensers … They didn’t synchronize properly … They needed watching … He couldn’t run them more than two or three hours on Sunday … That didn’t provide enough w
aves … On weekdays he had other fish to fry … He was busy with the rag and his various contests … Madame des Pereires had no faith whatever in this telluric jazz … “I told him a million times … I was wasting my breath … ‘That thing of yours will never work! It’s impossible! You’ll only make one more mess … You’re going to cave the house in with your trenches … That’s all the vegetables we’ll ever have … Electric currents … if that’s what you want … don’t stay in the ground … they fly through the air, you dope … Everybody knows that. What about storms? Or just take a look at the roads … Why do they spend all that money on telephone lines? And what about lightning rods? The government isn’t nuts, I hope … They wouldn’t go to all that expense if they could help it! …’ I’d have said any old thing to keep him from digging up my garden! ‘You’re talking through your hat!’ He always insults me when he knows I’m right … He won’t give in! He’d rather bust! Oh, I know my little man! Pretentious! Proud! Hell, a peacock is nothing! … Having to listen to that tommyrot day in day out! … For twenty-eight years I’ve been putting up with him … and this is what I get … this is my reward … You’ll never know how bad I feel … But it’s no use … He’s selling us out! … Absolutely! That man would sell his shirt! He’d sell yours, Ferdinand! He’d sell anything! … When he gets the bug and feels he needs a change, he’s not a man anymore, he’s a rattle! It’s the fairs that ruined him! The older he grows the screwier he gets … He’s completely cracked … I can see it, I’m nobody’s fool! He’s diabolical, Ferdinand! … It’s not just a disease with him, it’s a disaster … But I can’t go along with him anymore … Nothing doing … I gave him a piece of my mind when he told me about his system … ‘Courtial,’ I said, ‘you’re always monkeying with things that are none of your business … What do you know about agriculture? No more than you do about elevators and piano factories! …’ But he always thinks he knows it all … That’s his special vice … Knowing it all! Poking his nose into every crack! He’s the original busybody! He’s too big for his shoes, that’s what’s wrong with him! One day he comes home and it’s chemistry … The next day it’s sewing machines … The day after it’s beets … Always something new … Naturally he doesn’t get anywhere … The thing for him is balloons. I’ve thought so all along. I’ve always told him so … ‘Courtial, your balloon, Courtial, your balloon! That’s the one thing you know how to do! With anything else you’ll come to grief. It’s stupid to keep trying! Your business is ballooning! It’s our only hope. If you keep on with these brainstorms of yours, you’ll come to grief. We’ll end up in the poorhouse, making paper flowers.’ I’ve told him a thousand times, I’ve repeated it over and over again. But it’s go chase yourself, you old battle-ax! The balloon? He gets so stupid when those pigheaded spells come on he won’t even let me mention it! I know what I’m talking about. I’ve got to bear the brunt. His highness is a ‘writer,’ I don’t understand such things. He’s a ‘scientist,’ an ‘apostle’! Hell, I can tell you what he is! He’s a loafer … a crook! … A buffoon! … He’s a crumb … a four-flusher … Yes, à bum, that’s what he is! He’s unscrupulous! He wants to dive, does he? Well, he’s heading straight for the bottom … a flophouse crawling with lice, that’s what he deserves! And that’s what he’ll get! What a jerk he turned out to be! … He’s coming apart at the seams! He doesn’t know where the next nickel is coming from … He thinks I don’t know … He can gas all day, he won’t fool me. I know the score! … But he won’t get away with it … no, sir … He’d better not kid himself! He’d better watch his step! I won’t stand for it! …”
Death on the Installment Plan Page 52