by Unknown
US Army had overlooked the fact that the caves were on the The Cowboy shook his head.
line of the same geological fault that ran through the state of Ringbaum's thin, nasal voice floated out into the corridor: Euphoria.
' You seem to confuse the words satire and satyr in your paper, The thing to do, Philip decided, was to see Melanie and Miss Lennox. A satire is a species of poem; a satyr is a have a heart-to-heart talk with her. If he explained his lecherous creature, half man, half goat, who spends his time feelings, perhaps she could sort them out for him. What he chasing nymphs.'
had vaguely in mind was a mature, relaxed, friendly re-11 have to be going,' said Philip.
lationship which wouldn't entail their sleeping together
' Ciao,' said the Cowboy.' Hang loose.'
again, but wouldn't entirely rule out such a possibility That was easier said than done. He felt himself sliding either. Yes, tomorrow he would see Melanie. He fell asleep into obsession. That night he was sure it was Melanie's voice again and dreamed, this time, that he was the last man out that he heard talking to Charles Boon on the radio. Tan-of Esseph at the time of its second and final earthquake. He talizingly, it was only the tail-end of the conversation that he was alone in an airplane taking off from Esseph airport, and caught when he switched on. 'Don't you think,' Melanie was as it hurtled down the runway he looked out of the window saying,' that we have to aim towards a whole new concept of and saw cracks spreading like crazy paving in the tarmac.
interpersonal relationships based on sharing rather than The plane lifted off just as the ground seemed to open to owning ? I mean, like a socialism of the emotion?...'
swallow it. It climbed steeply, and banked, and he stared out
'Right on!'
of the window at the unbelievable sight of the city of Esseph,
'And a socialism of sensations, a n d . . . '
its palaces and domes, its cloud-capped skyscrapers,
'Yeah?'
burning and collapsing and sliding into the sea.
'Well, that's all, I guess.'
Next morning the Bay and the city were still there, smiling
'Well, thanks anyway, that was great.*
in the sunshine, awaiting the rabbit punch of the earthquake;
'Well, that's what I think, Charles. Good night.'
but Melanie was not to be found - not that day, nor the next
'Good night, and call again. Anytime,' Boon added day, nor the day after that. Philip went in and out of the meaningfully. The girl - was it Melanie? - laughed and house at all hours, found pretexts for lingering in the hall and whistled loudly on the stairs, all to no avail. He saw Carol rang off.
'Queue Ex Why Zee Underground Radio,' Charles Boon and Deirdre often enough and eventually summoned up the intoned. "This is the Charles Boon Show, the one Governor courage to ask them if Melanie was around. No, they said, Duck tried to get banned. Call 024-9898 and let's hear what's she had gone away for a few days. Was there anything they on your mind.'
could do for him ? He thanked them: no.
Philip jumped out of bed, pulled on his dressing gown, and That afternoon he fell over a pair of boots in a corridor of ran downstairs to the ground-floor apartment. He rang the Dealer Hall which proved to belong to the Cowboy, bell. After a longish pause, Deirdre came to the door and squatting on the floor outside Howard Ringbaum's door, called through it.
waiting for a consultation.
'Who are you?'
' Hi 1' said the Cowboy, with a leer.' How's Melanie ?'
'It's me, Philip Swallow. I want to speak to Melanie.'
108
109
Deirdre opened the door. 'She's not here.'
'I just heard her speaking on the radio. She phoned in to and then, via Shaftesbury Avenue, he found himself in the Charles Boon show.'
Soho. Touts shivering in the doorways of strip-clubs accosted him every few yards.
'Well, she didn't call from here.'
'Are you sure ?'
Now Morris Zapp, who had lived for years on the door-Deidre opened the door wide. 'You want to search the step of one of the world's great centres of the strip industry, apartment?' she inquired ironically.
namely South Strand in Esseph, had never actually sampled
'I'm terribly sorry,' said Philip.
this form of entertainment. Blue movies, yes. Dirty books, of course. Pornography was an accepted diversion of the I must snap out of this, he said to himself as he climbed Euphoric intelligentsia. But strip-tease, and all the special-the stairs. I need a break, some distraction. On his next free ized variations on it indigenous to Esseph . . .
day he took a bus across the long, double-decker bridge into downtown Esseph. He alighted at exactly the same moment (though seven hours earlier by the clock) that Morris Zapp, Which at this very moment Philip Swallow is observing seated in the grill-room of the London Hilton, sank his teeth for the first time: having walked to the South Strand district luxuriously into the first respectable-looking steak he had to look up old haunts he now stands gawping incredulously seen since arriving in England.
at the strip-joints that jostle each other all along Cortez Avenue - topless and bottomless ping-pong, roulette, shoe-
•in;
shine, barbecue, all-in wrestling and go-go dancing -
The Hilton was a damned expensive hotel, but Morris where once stood sober saloons and caf& and handicraft reckoned that he owed himself some indulgence after three shops and art galleries and satirical nightclubs and poetry weeks in Rummidge and in any case he was making sure cellars, now GIRLS! GIRLS! GIRLS! and S T R I P - S T R I P -
that he got full value out of his occupation of the warm, S T R I P - S T R I P in giant neon letters strain against the sun sound-proofed and sleekly furnished room on the sixteenth (for it is still only afternoon in Euphoria) and seek to lure the floor. He had already showered twice since checking in, and idle male into the smoky-coloured darkness behind the walked about naked on the fitted carpet, bathed in fluent velvet curtains where rock music twangs and thuds and the waves of heated air, had climbed back into bed to watch TV
girls pictured outside with huge polished breasts like the and ordered his lunch from Room Service - a club sand-nose-cones of missiles 'DANCE BEFORE YOU ENTIRELY
wich with french fries on the side preceded by a large Manhattan and followed by apple pie A la mode. All simple NAKED THEY HIDE ABSOLUTELY N O T H I N G . . . '
everyday amenities of the American way of life - but what rare pleasures they seemed in exile.
. . . that was strictly for hicks, tourists and businessmen.
Morris Zapp's reputation as a sophisticate would have been However, perhaps it was time he put his nose outside the destroyed the moment he was seen by a colleague or student revolving doors and took a look at Swinging London, he patronizing one of the South Strand strip-bars. 'What, conceded, as he waddled from the dining-room with a com-Morris Zapp ? going to topless shows ? Morris Zapp paying fortably full belly and selected an expensive Panatella from to see bare tits ? What is this, Morris, not getting enough of the cigar store in the lobby. He donned overcoat and gloves it these days?' And so on and thus would have been the and a Khrushchev hat in black nylon fur he had bought badinage. So Morris had never crossed the threshold of any from a Rummidge chain store, and sallied out into the raw strip-club on South Strand, though he had often felt a stab London nigh* He walked along Piccadilly to the Circus, of low curiosity, passing on his way to a restaurant or i to
in
' I bring heat, sir.'
movie-house; and now, standing amid the alien porn of Morris returned to his place and the Indian followed, Soho, six thousand miles from home, only strangers around trailing a small electric heater on a long cord - but not quite to observe him, and not many of those (for it is a cold, raw long enough to reach Morris. The heater glowed feebly in night) he thinks, 'Why not?' and ducks into the very next the violet murk som
e yards from his seat. Morris put on his strip-joint he comes to, under the nose of a disconsolate-hat and gloves, buttoned up his topcoat, and grimly lit a looking Indian at the door.
fresh cigar, determined to stick it out. He had made a terrible mistake, but he wasn't going to admit it. So he sat and And 'Why not?' thought Philip Swallow. 'It's something smoked and stared at the empty stage, chafing his chilled I've never seen and always wanted to and what's the harm limbs from time to time to keep the circulation going.
and who's to know and anyway it's a phenomenon of cultural and sociological interest. I wonder how much it would cost.'
While Philip Swallow, having been prepared to be disapHe walked up and down the length of the Avenue assessing pointed, cheated, frustrated and finally bored (for was that the establishments that were open this early in the day and not the conventional wisdom concerning commercialized eventually selected a small bar calling itself the Pussycat Gosex, that it was a fake and a bore?) found that on the con-go, which promised topless and bottomless dancers with no trary he was not at all bored, but quite entranced and de-cover charge or other extras. He took a deep breath and lighted, sitting over a gin and tonic (dear at $1.50, but it plunged into the darkness.
was true there was no cover charge) while one of three beautiful young girls danced quite naked not three yards 4 Good evening, sir,' said the Indian, smiling brilliantly.
from his nose. And not only were they beautiful, but also
'One pound, please sir. The performance is about to begin, unexpectedly wholesome and intelligent-looking, not at all sir.'
the blowsy, blase* hoydens he had anticipated, so that one Morris paid his pound and pushed through a baize might almost suppose that they did it for love rather than curtain and a swing door. He found himself in a small, money - as though liking, in any case, to shuffle their feet dimly-lit room, with three rows of bentwood chairs drawn up and wiggle their hips to the sound of pop music they thought before a small, low stage. A spotlight threw a pool of violet they might as well take off their clothes while they were light on to the stage, and an ancient amplifier wheezed about it and give a little harmless pleasure to others at the laboured pop music. The room was very cold and, except same time. Three of them there were, and while one danced, for Morris, entirely empty. He sat down in the middle of another served drinks and the third rested. They wore the front row of chairs and waited. After a few minutes, he briefs and little shifts like children's vests and they slipped in went back to the entrance.
and out of these simple garments modestly but quite un-
'Hey,' he said to the Indian.
selfconsciously in full view of the bar's clientele, for there
'You like a drink, sir? Beer, sir?'
was no changing-room in the cramped premises, strip-
' I'd like to see some strip-tease.'
tease was quite the wrong term, there was no tease about it
'Certainly, sir. One moment sir. If you would be a little at all, and they gave each other little friendly pats on the patient. The girl arrives very soon, sir.'
shoulder as they changed over, with all the considerate cama-
' Is there only one ?'
raderie of a convent school relay team. Nothing could have
' One at a time, sir.'
been less sordid.
'And it's cold as hell in there.'
*
113
" 3
Morris's cigar was about half smoked when he heard the
'You're fired,' said the Indian.
voice of a girl raised - apologetically or protestingly, he
'OK,'said Mary.
couldn't be sure, for she was suffering from a head cold - on
' Come and have a drink,' said Morris.
the other side of the baize curtain. At length the Indian
'Where?'
escorted her behind a rough-and-ready screen in one corner
'At the Hilton?'
of the room. As she scuffed past in boots like Mrs Swallow's,
'You talked me into it,' said Mary.' I'll fetch my coat.'
wearing a headscarf and carrying a little plastic zipper-bag, Morris hurried off eagerly to get a cab. The evening had she looked about as sexy as a Siberian Miss Five Year Plan.
been suddenly redeemed. He looked forward to getting The Indian, however, plainly thought his reputation was better acquainted with Mary Makepeace in his cosy room at saved. He was all smiles. Picking up a hand mike and fixing the Hilton. As the cab drew away from the kerb, he put his his gaze on Morris, who was still the only customer, he arm round her shoulders.
boomed out:
'What's a nice girl like you doing in a joint like that?' he
'GOOD EVENING LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! Our first said.' To coin a phrase.'
performer this evening is Fifi the French Maid. Thank you.'
'I hope it's understood I'm just having a drink with you, The music swelled as the Indian manipulated the knobs Professor Zapp ?'
on his tape recorder, and a blonde wearing a minuscule lace
' Of course,' he said blandly.' What else ?'
apron over black underwear and stockings stepped into the
'For one thing, I'm still pregnant. I didn't go through spotlight and posed with a feather duster.
with the abortion.'
' Well I'm damned,' said Morris aloud.
'I'm very glad to hear it,' Morris said flatly, removing his Mary Makepeace (for that was who it was) took a step arm.
forward, shielding her eyes against the light. 'Who's that?
' I thought you would be. But there was nothing ethical I know that voice.'
about my decision, you understand? I still believe in a
' How was Stratford-upon-Avon ?'
woman's right to determine her own biological destiny.'
' Hey, Professor Zapp! What are you doing here ?'
'You do?'
' I was going to ask you the same question.'
'But I chickened out at the last moment. It was the The Indian hurried forward. 'Please! please! Customers nursing home. Girls wandering about in bedsocks with tears are not permitted to converse with the artistes. Kindly con-streaming down their cheeks. Toilet bowls full of blood . . . '
tinue the performance, Fifi.'
Morris shuddered. 'Spare me the details,' he begged.
'Yeah, continue, Fifi,' said Morris.
' But what about the stripping bit ? Isn't that exploitation ?'
' Listen, this is no customer, this is someone I know,' said
'Sure, but I desperately need the bread. This is one job Mary Makepeace. ' I'm darned if I'm going to strip for him.
you can do without a work permit.'
With nobody else in the audience, too. It's indecent.'
'What d'you want to stay in this lousy country for?'
' It's supposed to be indecent. That's what strip-tease is
' To have the baby here. I want him to have dual nation-for,' said Morris.
ality, so he can avoid the draft when he grows up.'
' Please Fifi!' the Indian pleaded. ' If you begin, maybe
' How d'you know it's going to be a boy ?'
other customers will come.'
'Either way, I can't lose. Having babies is free in this
'No,'said Mary.
country.'
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" 5
'But how much longer can you do this type of work? Or Euphoria Ninety-Nine, you know? She gets kind of lonely are you changing your act to Fifi the pregnant maid ?'
• • •
' I see your sense of humour hasn't changed, Professor
' I'm lonely too. Come back to Plotinus with me, Melanie,'
Zapp.'
he said, the words sounding thrillingly passionate and poetic
' I do my best,' he said.
to his own ears.
' Well, I'm kind of tied up right now, Philip.'
Whil
e Philip, now nursing his fourth gin and tonic, and
'Come live with me and be my love. And we will all the pleasures having studied the anatomies of the three Pussycat Go-go prove.' He leered at her.
girls for some two hours, had reached, he felt, a profound
'Take it easy, Philip.' Melanie smiled apprehensively, insight into the nature of the generation gap: it was a and attempted to disengage her arms from his grip. "Those difference of age. The young were younger. Hence more go-go girls have gotten you all excited. Tell me, I've always beautiful. Their skin had a bloom, they still had their back wondered, are they really quite naked ?'
teeth, their bellies were flat, their breasts (ah!) were firm,
' Quite. But not as beautiful as you, Melanie.'
their thighs (ah! ah!) were not veined like Danish Blue
'That's very sweet of you, Philip.' She managed to free cheese. And how was the gap to be bridged? By love, of herself. 'I guess I must be going now. See you.' She began course. By girls like Melanie generously giving their firm walking briskly towards the junction of Cortez Avenue and 1
young flesh to withered old sticks like himself, restoring the Main Street. Philip limped along beside her. The Avenue circulation of the sap. Melanie! How simple and good her was getting busy. Cars honked and hummed in the road, gesture seemed in the clear light of his new understanding.
pedestrians jostled them on the pavement.
I
How needlessly he had complicated it with emotions and
'Melanie! You can't disappear again. Have you for-ethics.
gotten what happened the other night ?'
He stood up to leave at last. His foot had gone to sleep
' Do you have to tell everybody in the street ? *
again, but his heart was full of goodwill to all men. It Philip lowered his voice:' It was the first time it ever hap-seemed entirely natural that, coming out of the Pussycat Go-pened to me.'
go, dazzled by the sunbeams slanting low over Cortez She stopped and stared' You mean - you were a virgin ? '
Avenue, and a trifle unsteady on his feet because of the
' I mean apart from my wife, of course.'
liquor and the pins and needles, he should collide with She put her hand sympathetically on his arm. 'I'm sorry Melanie Byrd herself, as if she had materialized on the Philip. If I'd realized what a big deal it was for you, I pavement in obedience to his wishes.