Frolic of His Own (85 page)

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Authors: William Gaddis

BOOK: Frolic of His Own
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—What do you mean he's separate.

—Fifteen hundred dollars but . . .

—Fine. When you win your big lawsuit against the doctor who put them in you can pay the doctor who took them out now let's not talk anymore about it, I want to get, listen. Did you hear that?

—It's these big trucks way out at the end of the driveway, you know that little house that was back there in the trees? It's gone. Right overnight the whole house, it's . . .

—Not the trucks no it's, listen. It's Oscar! He's, my hands are wet go in there and see what in God's name's going on will you? and Lily? ask him if he's eaten? but she was gone, leaving nothing but the distant rumble of the trucks until her heels came clattering down the hall again.

—He's calling the police, Christina. He's calling to report a stolen car.

—I'll kill him! she whispered, twisting the dishtowel in her hands like a throat —he's, no be still! I told you to remind me to call the garage in town to bring his car out here didn't I? flinging it down —where is he. Oscar? and through the door —where is he! the phone trembling in her own hands now stabbing out a number, her voice sunk to a deadly calm as she got on with —Carlos or José, one of them can drive it out here can't he? today? or tonight then? My God I mean, all right here are the directions, will you write them down?

—I'm making some tea when you're done, all right? and when she brought it in, —what are you so mad at Oscar for.

—Because he, just because I am! Where is he!

—How come you're blaming him then! He's just trying to help out isn't he? I mean we always leave the keys in the car here don't we? Is it his fault if somebody steals it?

—Because I, because he's driving me crazy Lily, everything is, those trucks out there now before it's even light when I come down and he's already in there with his bowl of cereal he hardly eats anything else, all he asked for last time I went shopping was peanut butter and another box of it, I try to talk to him I ask him if he wants tea or some toast and he just goes on shoveling it down and puts on his glasses reading the back of the cereal box till he finally asks me if there's any mail, I mean it's practically dawn and is there any mail! and back in the kitchen —have you seen his latest?

—No but wait a second, I forgot to . . .

—These tiny sea horses he sent away for roaming in and out of the windows of that idiotic castle in there the way he roams around the house here himself like some lost soul, I mean God only knows what he expects after this thing that came for him yesterday, did you see it? reaching behind the cereal box —from Saint Pancras School, Dear Professor Crease I thought they were inviting him to lecture on the . . .

—No but wait a second, there's a . . .

—I mean can you imagine? Your colleague, Doctor J Madhar Pai, has given your name as a reference on his application to join our faculty as Psychological Counselor and Senior Proctor for the Sixth Form. He would also supervise the School's athletic program, chapel attendance and any disciplinary . . .

—No but wait a second Christina there's a . . .

—qualities of moral fibre and leadership embracing traditional values, best embodied on the playing fields of Saint Pancras where emphasis is placed not on winning but rather on how you play the game, and we will appreciate your candid appraisal of his suitability in these capacities and for taking an active role in our lively academic community. Your comments will be held in the strictest I mean my God people will do anything, the very thought of Trish ending up on the lively playing fields of . . .

—No but listen Christina something came yesterday certified I put up here over the sink and forgot to . . .

—Well thank God. I mean I'd begun to think Bill Peyton expected me to sit here staring at that rotting amaryllis till the end of, throw it out will you? tearing open the envelope barely in her hands —it looks like the bowels of a, oh my God.

—But what . . .

—Just be still! She folded back a page, folded back another, —where is he.

—Oscar? He probably went back up to his old room on the top floor with his rock collection, he even slept up there last night did you know that? He was . . .

—Well call him! folding back each page more slowly than the last until she suddenly got up herself storming back up the hall to the foot of the stairs —Oscar! in a near collision there —sit down. Just be quiet and listen to this, will you sit down? doing so herself, getting her breath —that, that insufferable law clerk my God, a simple estate! He's whipped together the final accounting on Father's estate, I'll say he's whipped it together right across our naked backs, will you look at it? But she made no sign of giving it up, pausing again for breath which dwindled with the balance of the principal (assets listed on page 3 here below) totaling $5,649,500, less the following, in Federal tax, $2,065,000; in New York State tax (location of house only, less mortgage), $284,500; executor's
fee, court costs, filing and attorneys' fees, $100,000; personal bequest, $500; leaving to the residual legatees in equal shares the amount of $3,199,500 —well my God Oscar why are you staring at me like a, can't you see what this means? It means the house. It means these treasury notes and deposit certificates and the cash and everything else all go for taxes and that drunken fool's executor's fee passing along what's left to his courthouse cronies because this house is the bulk of the estate, three point two million! This property assessed at three point two million and he's probably already drunk up every cent of the five hundred dollars he took out of it sitting down there on a hundred thousand as his executor's fee my God, a hundred thousand dollars for this? suddenly on her feet brandishing the papers —and what he's scribbled at the foot here just to be cute? over seizing the phone now, —puts him in mind of old Justice Holmes he says, left most of his estate to the U.S. Treasury I mean aren't we doing practically the same damn thing? punching out numbers —handing the IRS two million dollars with the veranda caving in and not a penny for paint or even fixing our driveway, hello? Yes, Bill Peyton please, if they expect us to keep a roof over our heads while they, who? Well who are you I, what? sputtering her own name —and who are you! Lenny what? Yes, yes tell him I got his lovely plant but when does he expect to send me the . . . I said when! and she stood tapping her foot till she hung it up with a choked out —thank you. Some flunky named Lenny telling me it's at the top of Bill Peyton's agenda coming out here in a day or two with some of Harry's papers he thinks we'd like to keep, I mean if he dares show his face without that insurance check in his hand I'll, I'm going to have a drink.

—What shall I . . .

—Don't ask me Lily do what you want to! There's that flounder for supper I'm going in to get a drink, now where did he go? but she raged past the dim room festooned with blankets without a glance in at the figure looming in the cadaverous pallor of the halide lamp tapping a teaspoon of God only knew what over the blades of the Amazon sword plant, settling on the Madagascar lace where the recent wave of immigrants seemed to have thinned considerably since their arrival as a glittering turquoise discus passed trailing a shred of black skirt from its jaws and the sea horses, gliding past the walls of the castle with all the diminutive rectitude of the knights of King Richard the Lionhearted raising the siege at Acre, only for it to fall once again to the gleaming ranks of the Saracens a century later ending the last Crusade and, with it, the kingdom of Jerusalem, were now nowhere to be seen.

—He said he's not hungry for us to go ahead and eat. He's in there now watching some mystery with a peanut butter sandwich.

—Well I'm simply exhausted, it's been dark for hours I'm going up as
soon as we're done. Will you tell me what those blankets are doing strung up in the sunroom?

—Because I can't sleep with that spooky light in there, like it's always daytime in the middle of the night.

Day for night, good cop bad cop, undercover sleuth tracks serial killer, incest victim seeks revenge, heavy metal star on killing spree and the screen ablaze with an overturned patrol car, flashing lights merging with the late night news, spy in mafia drug orbit and the door battered in: police! freeze!

—Well my God where is he, I thought he was down here.

—No it's real Christina, there's somebody out there! as the red and blue lights flashed across the walls and the pounding on the door continued.

—Well open it!

—Mrs Crease? We picked up your car, you want to come out and identify it?

—But who, what time is it? She stared at the policeman half her age weighted down with the hardware strung at his waist —I mean I'm not even awake, I can't go out there now I'm not even dressed.

—We picked up Pedro there riding around the neighborhood, he says he was lost but he doesn't speak much English, probably just took it out to do a little partying. You leave the keys in it?

—I don't, Pedro who, I mean yes it's our car I can see it from here but who's Pedro.

—Just meant one of your Hispanics, probably one of them working on that site out at the corner of the driveway and he happened to spot it, they're checking him out now for drugs and alcohol. You can come down in the morning and sign a complaint.

—Yes all right I, what time is it I'm still half asleep.

—It's one twenty Mrs Crease, just take your time. He's not going anywhere.

—Yes I, good night and thank you.

She was down the next morning with the first rumble of trucks out there on that site at the corner of the driveway raised to a dull roar with the arrival of backhoes and bulldozers suddenly pierced by the scream of a chainsaw, —well can't you hear it Oscar? It's enough to wake the dead! I mean do you hear anything in that little room on the top floor? God knows why you want to sleep up there you'll freeze to death, did you hear that racket last night when the police brought the car back? I was barely awake I didn't know what was happening, the whole thing is like some wild dream now where are you going. Do you think you could clean up after yourself when you're done in here? If you won't sit down at the table with us like the last civilized man couldn't you at least put your
dishes in the sink and throw out these crusts and empty milk cartons? doing so herself as her voice followed him through the door before she wiped up the spilt milk, swept the floor and made tea, sitting there staring at the back of the cereal box.

—Are you okay?

—I'm not okay Lily nothing is okay, will you listen to this? You talk about nobody in the house reading, do you want to hear what he's been reading? Win big prizes. Official entry form. If you're the grand prize winner you'll take your whole family on a fun filled vacation to Disney World. Second prize winners take home a family bicycle set. The more times you enter the more chances you, what are you looking for.

—I just need some money for this delivery out there? she said digging in the towel drawer. —He just got some more fishes.

—Well can't he pay for them himself?

—I don't know, he said he found a quarter and a penny in the cushion of that big chair from when Harry was out here but . . .

—That's ridiculous, I mean you've seen that hundred dollar bill sticking out of the breast pocket of that old jacket he wears haven't you? God knows where he got it, when I asked him he said he had some riddles too, what gets harder to catch the harder you run? What can run but can't walk, where in God's name is he now.

—He's out there watching this man that's looking at the car, maybe you better go out and . . .

—Oh my God I forgot all about it, is it the police? and by the time she got out there the engine was already running, coming down waving her arms —wait a minute! Who are you, what are you doing! Mrs Crease was it? He'd come to repossess the car, they'd been duly notified —but you can't no it's my, Oscar come down here! Make, model, license, registration inspection stickers it all checked, sorry to inconvenience her, rolling up the window as it moved away, just doing his job —oh my God, oh my God.

—Christina what happened! Who was it!

—Oh my God! she whispered, coming slowly back up the steps —what I've done, what I've done, I didn't know what I was doing! suddenly moving quickly down the hall —Quickly! with the phone in her hand turning it up for the number pasted there —hello, yes hello, hello. Last night, you brought a car out here last night a stolen car, I thought it was my car that had been stolen but the man who was driving it, the man you arrested, he's . . . Crease yes that's right but the man you . . . he what? No but where, where did they take him, he's . . . oh my God. But what will happen to him! oh my God she whispered, finally hanging it up. —No. No no no. Pedro, just one of your Hispanics I wasn't thinking, I wasn't even thinking!
It was one of the boys from the garage, it was Oscar's car it was José or Carlos driving it out here and I didn't even . . .

—But why didn't you just tell them that, why did . . .

—Because he's gone! Because his papers weren't right so they called the Immigration Service who came and took him away, just doing their job, all of them just doing their job and they'll probably deport him for, for just doing his job?

—But wait a second Christina, maybe you can . . .

—I can't do a damn thing! When I could just pick up the phone and call Harry? He'd know what to do, he'd know exactly what to do and where is he! and she got unsteadily to her feet echoing —where is he, reaching up to open the cabinet.

—I don't think you should have a drink Christina, it's still early and . . .

—I don't care what you think Lily. I don't care if it's still early. I don't care if it's the day or the night I don't, God will it stop! at the scream of a chainsaw —just doing their jobs like those maniacs out there tearing out the bowels of the earth cutting down every living thing and where is he! with her glass up the hall as the trucks continued to rumble out there through the trees still standing in their path, out over the pond where she stared for a full minute stirred by a west wind blowing toward the ocean before she swallowed her drink and —no, listen . . .

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