—Hi is Mrs Eigen here?
—All out of them.
—Oh, then would, would you like to buy some greeting cards then?
—Tom got a boy here selling greeting cards, what grade are you in.
—Six M, Mrs Manzinel . . .
—Tom boy out here working his way through six N selling greeting cards. What’s the greetings.
—Well see these are all occasion cards, like for all different occasions they’re all . . .
—All occasion cards Tom, got them for all different occasions.
—Like birthday, anniversary, you know all these different occasions like . . .
—Got a friend jumped out a window, got a card for that?
—Well gee I, maybe get well . . .
—Can’t get well, went home and hung himself got a card for that?
—Well gee I, I don’t think so but maybe you could . . .
—Got a woman on alimony sleeping with a book salesman hell of an occasion, got a card for that?
—Well gee I, like here’s sympathy maybe you could . . .
—Jack God damn it what are you, hello Chris what is it.
—Oh hi Mister Eigen I, I was just selling these greeting cards . . .
—Says they’re for all occasions Tom but every God damned occasion I can think of is . . .
—Jack shut up will you? Chris lives upstairs he’s, how much Chris.
—Well see they’re two dollars a box but like for five dollars you get three and you get this free premium of these flower seeds . . .
—All right I, I’ll take the five dollar one Chris . . .
—Let him finish Tom wants to earn his . . .
—Here Chris and, wait look . . .
—Gee Mister Eigen thank . . .
—God damn it didn’t let him finish Tom, didn’t tell us what kind of flower seeds he . . .
—I just don’t really need the cards or the seeds right now though Chris I, maybe you can take them along and sell them again, come back to see me . . . he got the door closed,—God damn it Jack talk like that to a poor kid who . . .
—Hell do you mean poor know what the markup on those God damned cards is? Making more money than I am but God damn it Tom wants to think he’s earning it, do that you’re taking away his whole God damned professional pride undermine the whole God damned free enter . . .
—Just forget it! Will you, get your ice?
—Got ice Tom can’t forget it listen, God damned problem you see David every God damned boy you look at see David can’t do that Tom, give him five dollars think you’re helping birthday anniversary some real God damned occasion hits him he doesn’t know where the hell he . . .
—Look damn it you’re dropping ice all over the . . .
—Tripped on these God damned newspapers thought you were sending them all up to . . .
—Damn it they’re the ones you just brought down here! What the hell do you think I . . .
—Wait, wait damned near forgot wait, Raindance and need a pencil, wait get this one . . .
—Get you a pencil . . . he dragged a bundle ahead,—some in my workroom . . . he reached in, got the light.
—Can’t spread them out in here Tom, need room to spread them out.
—Jack damn it you can’t spread them out in here, I’m just trying to find a pencil . . . he rummaged around the typewriter among papers and paperclips, a sheep with one leg gone, a red mitten, a broken music box, marionette in a tangle of strings, car with no wheels, Piglet torn from his base, a clock with one hand pointing the minute and an arm from a stuffed bear, an arm lofting a bugle, an armless headless soldier, marching,—never find one God damn pencil . . .
—Got to move the hell out Tom little furnished room with a hot plate, looks like the God damned dawn of the world in here necks without heads arms seeking shoulders, only God damned person live here’s Empedocles . . .
—Well damn it I, don’t you think I . . . he came down against the chair drawn up to the typewriter,—writer who can’t even find a pencil, God damn instinct for the jugular told me the reason I don’t finish it I’m afraid to compete with myself, terrible slowness of things in a dream . . . and he tore the page from the typewriter.—They wheeled, I fired, and they were gone, but there on the ground with a broken damn it Jack do you know how many times I’ve written that? rewritten that? Marries a writer like a politician wants him to win, she thinks you’re in some God damn competition running for something, one God damn person take your doubts to lay them in her lap and she . . .
—Just told you Tom worst God damned thing you can do, bunch of God damned open wounds lay them in her lap what the hell do you expect. First time she has to get the God damned knives out she can’t resist them, laid them all out for her she knows right where they are can’t resist them, in here think you’re writing a play characters come out of your typewriter what the hell you expect them to look like all those God damned knives going on around you, bunch of God damned arms wandering around bereft of shoulders right out of Empedocles hell do you expect. God damned knives going around she’s standing at the sink in the kitchen man down there no hands no ears no God damned face drinks pints easier to hold between his wrist stumps, she’s standing at the sink has to get the God damned knives out knows right where they go what the hell do you expect . . .
—All right but, look damn it don’t untie those papers in here . . .
—Point God damned point only audience sit through it’s Empedocles, shambling creatures with countless hands eyes wandering around looking for a God damned forehead parts joining up all wrong make a hell of a musical just telling Bast, nice operetta twenty or thirty up there in the God damned nest eating oats and corn everything down below joining up all wrong God damned commotion, heads swell up out of the nest give us a few bars from Traviata little opening chorus cinco Jones in there how’s that, little Hexenritt from Hansel and Gretel God damned witch comes on . . .
—Jack listen damn it just, help me get these papers into David’s room . . . he’d dragged a bundle to a door pushed open on darkness, got the light,—go through them in here . . .
—God damned witch comes on gives them a little Che volo d’augelli from Pagliacci God damned heads really rear up at that all pile out come down and dance around her hell of a thing to choreograph how’s that, parish priest swells into a big God damned tumescent baritone gives us Se vuol ballare from Figaro breaks into a tap dance rest of them get the God damned Anvil Chorus banging away in the background how’s that. Didn’t want to tell Bast whole plot cousin’s a God damned witch take you right off at the roots . . .
—Look just get that last bundle in here, you can sleep in here . . .
—God damned truth Tom real God damned witch lies there spread open for you really somewhere else, lies there takes it like a God damned cow really someplace else all the time didn’t want to tell Bast, witches can’t weep ever know that Tom? Tell Bast God damned cousin put you right out of business . . .
—In here, where are you going . . .
—God damned bottle, lost the God damned ice just get used to it . . .
—Wait you’re dragging a shirt on your foot damn it, wait . . .
—Told you worst God damned get to the point shirts follow you around right in here, nice little furnished room needs curtains Tom can’t take this room, discommode anybody . . .
—What the hell are you talking about it’s . . .
—Suitcase open here thought you’re taking in transients . . .
—Jack God damn it the room’s empty can’t you, it’s David’s room can’t you see how God damned empty it is! He lifted the bag open from the low bed to the only chair,—just a bag I haven’t unpacked, here move your foot . . .
—Hillbilly’s wife says Zeb move yer foot yer astandin on a hot coal Zeb says . . .
—Jack damn it just move your foot will you? You’re standing on a book you’ve already broken the . . .
—Good thought I forgot it, part in
there about God damned witch takes this virgin up to a room where she, wait what the hell is this? Said you’d brought my book what the hell is this?
—I didn’t say I’d brought your book here, give it to me, something I picked up to read on the plane . . .
—Heart of Darkness, God damned cheerful reading Heart of Darkness, part at the end he takes her picture and letters back to her . . .
—Jack be careful you, sit down or you’re going to . . .
—God damned stuff make you sick, part she says you were his friend, part she says you knew what great plans he had something must remain wants his last word to live with, part you knock on the mahogany door take the papers up to Mrs Schramm wants his last words to live with believing and shitting are two very different things Mrs Schramm always remember that part . . .
—Jack shut up I, I don’t want to talk about it tonight just, look I’m going to bed, just try to wipe the whole God damn thing out till tomorrow I’m so, so damn sick of all of it . . .
—Stuff make you God damned sick lost the ice, here . . .
—I don’t want any more no, I tell you I just saw his God damn general? Hasn’t changed a bit since he got his first star leaving Schramm out there still thinks he’s wearing four stars, walk on the wrong side of him he thinks you’ve disappeared.
—Who.
—Box, General Box, he’s a director of the company, made him one because he still has a few broken down connections at the Pentagon and he’s great to send to a ground breaking in a broken down country where you’ve started a civil war to secede the one province where the whole God damn country’s mineral wealth is, I had to fly three thousand miles to spoon feed him a speech so he wouldn’t say Plato rhymes with tomato damn it Jack I can’t take this anymore, little bastard Davidoff every damn speech I write we go over twenty times till he gets human betterment and a two edged sword at one fell swoop and his God damn iceberg into it, has me take a Chinaman out to tie one on and sit there while he blows chewed up meat across the table at me I can’t take it anymore, the whole thing is just, the whole place there’s nothing real about any of it, one thing that’s real in that whole God damn place is that painting of Schepperman’s, see it when you come in it’s so God damn real you . . .
—Hell are we talking about painting of Schepperman’s thought we’re talking about Plato.
—That tremendous painting of his they’ve got in the lobby I told you about it . . .
—Tell me about any painting of Schepperman’s Tom what . . .
—But I, I never told you? I never told you what happened? Met Schepperman coming out of a White Rose bar really looked like hell didn’t I tell you? a few months ago didn’t I tell you?
—Tom always meet him coming out of a White Rose bar lend him ten don’t see him again till you meet him coming out of a White . . .
—No no that’s the point it wasn’t money, he had a wealthy patroness giving him some every month he’d been working like hell, giving him enough to buy paints and live on the way he lives in that loft he didn’t give a damn for the money it was the paintings, he was giving them to her and never saw them again nobody saw them. She was just locking them away somewhere probably never looked at them herself, nobody saw them and there’s Schepperman thrown out of one White Rose bar we went into the next one pounding the bar about making a statement, dirty flannel shirt hadn’t shaved for a week and he put his face in his hands, he’s bigger than I am and you see that whole back of his shake, pounds the bar again and shouts about making a statement locked up in the dark nobody to see it. One God damn statement after another where nobody could see it and he didn’t give a damn for the money, just his statements shut up where nobody could see them only God damn reason he’d painted them, grabs somebody by the collar shouting is true? is true? and we’re thrown out of that White Rose too . . .
—Schepperman God damned statements still got one of his God damned statements carved in stone over the God damned front door, God damned school board find it’s Karl Marx I tried to help him out worst God damned thing you can do, try to help him out worst God damned . . .
—What the hell do you mean it’s the best thing I’ve done since I’ve been with that God damn company, it’s the only thing, little bastard Davidoff running around looking for a name painter when they decided to get in on this phony business honeymoon with the arts, a big mural for the lobby and this little bastard Davidoff running around looking for a name painter right after I saw Schepperman I thought I’ll give you a name you little bastard. I called up a few people and talked up Schepperman, got together a few of his old grants and honors and let Davidoff take all the credit for discovering him just kept them from meeting each other and they bought this staggering thing of his must be ten by twenty feet, all shattering blacks and whites I don’t know how the God damn company officers keep the jelly in their heads together when it hits them in the morning. I got him twelve thousand dollars for it he didn’t give a God damn but I had to, paid any less that little bastard Davidoff wouldn’t have thought he was a name painter but all Schepperman was excited about was having it hung up there where people can see it . . .
—Tom worst God damn thing you can do help out the God damned artist, comes back bites the nose that spite your face, stuff make you God damned sick Tom better off when he was selling blood to the Red Cross to buy paints stuff really make you sick . . .
—Just give me that bottle then will you? Damn it just give it to me . . .! Jack listen you’re in worse shape than I ever, never seen you in worse shape how the hell do you expect to walk into a classroom with a throat sounds like . . .
—Don’t Tom.
—Well how the hell do you keep this teaching job? Show up there like this and they . . .
—Don’t show up Tom only God damned thing tomorrow Raindance and Mister Fred have to show up, said you’d get me a pencil . . .
—All right just, wait see what the hell she left . . . he pulled open a closet, suddenly sniffed deeply and cleared his throat dragging a shoe box out with his foot,—crayon, give you a purple crayon . . .
—Don’t want a God damned purple crayon want a God damned pencil.
—Give you pink, God damn it how did she leave that, left his crèche here how did she leave that.
—Don’t want a God damned crèche just want a God damned pencil.
—Look you can have a God damn purple crayon or a God damn pink crayon, if you . . .
—Take God damned purple.
—Here . . . he came down next to a foot on the end of the low bed, caught a hand over his eyes—God, damn it Jack how do you, how do you get through Christmas . . .
—Kindly God damned family court judge fix it up for you Tom best God damned thing fool him, be Jewish get through Hanukkah fool him.
—No but how do you, Jack he used to set this up by the window there the whole damn thing he called it, he, he thought it was called Baby Jeeter and the Three Wide Men he . . .
—Can’t get through it Tom just get through it worst God damned thing just get through it, kindly family court judge gives you visiting privilege deliver whole God damned bag of presents have to leave, God damned street corner waving goodbye God damned wind blowing knows God damned well no God damned place to go stands there waving God damned street corner drugstore surgical appliances for the whole God damned family . . .
—God damn instinct for the jugular she told me I . . .
—Wait wait listen Tom listen, idea make a million dollars God damn it listen. Invent a God damned parlor game where’s the bottle listen, game about divorce sweep the God damned country parlor game call it Divorce how’s that. Every God damned married couple young and old alike sublimate their God damned can’t stand each other can’t afford to split buy the God damned game for ten dollars sublimate their God damned divorce game call it Split make a million dollars how’s that.
—I ever tell you David asked me once if Jesus ever, wait damn it be careful . . .
—No no
just want to show you look, throw the dice little figure moves around the board take your choice pay your money just like real life look . . . a tall figure from the crèche pranced over The Morning Telegraph between his fingers—look, land on little God damned squares tell you what to do go to court, have to draw a God damned card tells you pay orthodontist two thousand dollars just like real life look . . . and the remaining members of the crèche joined in pursuit across Aztec Queen $19.40 Scores by 3 Lengths at Hialeah,—God damned support alimony cash, house, cars boat dog kids wife tries to get everything just like real life how’s that . . .
—Jack damn it I don’t want those broken, I ever tell you David asked me once if Jesus grew up to be an Indian?
—Wait God damn it goes here . . . the smallest figure was thrust swaddled from Big A to Yonkers Entries,—land here get custody of the kid one turn just like real life whole now generation God damned young couples sweep the God damned country, go to court draw God damned card says pay wife’s back psychiatrist bills twelve hundred dollars wife passes go collects alimony . . . the only seated, only female figure was shoved arms spread in wild surmise to join a lofty black on Cocky Jane Runs Second on Coast,—lands here caught in motel getting laid loses custody two turns, game for two to four couples play just like real life sweep the God damned country how’s that.
—Damn it Jack let me put these away before you . . .
—Didn’t finish the God damned game my turn land here have to draw God damned card . . . paper tore, RAPH streamed through the air—says pay wife’s lawyer two thousand dollars just like real wait what the hell are you doing . . .
—Put them back in the box Jack I don’t want anything to . . .
—No no your turn wait God damn it Tom, can’t play the God damned game have to invent it first sweep the God damned country look, land on this square says Bar . . . a figure bearing myrrh was swept to Results at Pimlico,—says buy drinks all round pay fifty dollars just like real God damn looks like Schepperman . . .
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