The Twilight of the Bums
Read The Twilight of the Bums Online
Authors: George Chambers,Raymond Federman
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #The Twilight of the Bums
George Chambers and Raymond Federman
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with cartoon accompaniment by T. Motley
THE BUMS ARE HAVING A DIALOGUE
ANOTHER DOZEN OF OUR BUMS' REFLECTIONS ON FRIENDSHIP
AND ONE MORE DOZEN OF OUR BUMS' REFLECTIONS ON FRIENDSHIP
THE LIFE OF THE ARTIST IN MONTPARNASSE
DEUTSCH-LAND - DEUTSCH-LAND GERM-ANY - GERM-ANY
QUESTIONING THE WOMAN OF GREAT RESISTANCE
A STORY ABOUT A STORY WITHIN A STORY
For all those who refused to grow up
Once upon a time, and what a screwed up time it was, two old bums met (midway between here and nowhere) and by chance discovered they had the same birth date and the same size shoes, so they decided to be friends. It was a strange encounter, one that seemed predetermined. And it became even stranger when they realized they shared the same shadow, even though one was huge with a Buddha belly, and the other small with an eagle face.
Years went by and it came time for them to die, for as fate decreed, they both had something terminal, and both given at most six months to live. This the two bums accepted but what tormented them was the fact that they had only one pair of socks between them. And so, as friendship dictates, they spent the last six months of their lives each wearing only one sock.
How did the bums meet? Dear Reader, you are of a rather cumbersome curiosity. By the Devil what does it matter how the bums met? But if you insist we will tell you that they met by chance, like everyone else.
What are their names? What do you care? Does it matter if their names are Sam & Ace or Um & Laut or Blank & Blank or F & C or Bum One & Bum Two or B Plus or B Minus? They are bums, and that's what they should be called.
Where do they come from? The nearest place. No, that's wrong! The farthest place.
Where are they going? Does one really know where one is going?
What are they saying? Bum One is saying nothing. He is listening to Bum Two who is saying that everything that happens to them here on earth, good or bad, is written above.
Walking westward down the road one afternoon under a bright blue sky the sun at two o'clock the two bums noticed that only one shadow was cast on the ground for both of them.
How strange! The shadow they flung to the ground with a certain disdain was of one man only though certainly they were two here.
One of the friends (no need to specify which) said to the other: Please, forgive the audacity of such a bold presumption, but I believe we share the same shadow.
Does that mean that I could be you? the other asked, for it was his turn to speak.
The one who spoke first did not reply, but to himself he thought: That depends on your birth date, the size of your feet, and your willingness to share.
The old guys are making faces in an old mirror that one of their wives has tossed out. (You understand these guys have wives kids houses mortgages debts careers and so on but that they are bored silly). They are performing heroic busts of military heroes, heroic profiles of the victors, and so forth. Then, at the same moment, they pause, for they have realized that they are looking at each other's reflection. The fat one says, Do you see what I see? The thin one says, Do you see what I see? (You understand these guys are, except in point of birth and sock size, completely different in every regard regarding ethnicity culturicity gonadicity, historicity structuralicity theologicity etcticity). Nonetheless, they continue to stare at each other in the mirror thus exchanging images when all of a sudden the fat one cries out, Sonofabitch, you're starting to look like me!
