A Fairy Tale of New York (20 page)

Mrs Silver's counsel again leaping to his feet, scratching a left hand in his crotch. The fleas like the shady spots.

"I object your honor. This is the most incredible nonsense. Unbelievable."

"Sustained. Counsel what relevance does a man patting his dog's head in his kitchen have to the matter complained of. Mrs Silver charges that she was spiritually disfigured when confronted with her husband tarted up beyond recognition."

"Your honor I am only trying to show that the Mr Silver with which Mrs Silver was confronted was indeed only a younger or truer version of her husband. Like a soiled painting found battered in an attic covered in dust and then immaculately restored."

Mrs Silver's attorney slapping his palm against his brow. His shoulders suddenly turning white with a cascade of dandruff.

"Objection. For heaven's sake is counsel suggesting that Mrs Silver had a dirty husband, that he was kept in a scruffy condition and in a manner of speaking was thrown out like so much garbage."

"Yes that's what I'm suggesting. And that Mr Christian attempted to restore this cast off body to a state in which any one who loved him would have liked to have seen him in death.''

Mrs Silver's counsel falling backwards into his seat, giving his brow three more slaps in a row. More snowfalls of dandruff. As he sits scratching cross armed under the armpits. The judge leaning forward to peer at this ringside frenzy.

"Are you all right Mr Blitz.''

"I am just temporarily stupified by counsel's most recent remark."

"Well perhaps if Mr Christian's counsel is finished, you'd like to cross examine Mr Christian.''

A lifelike glow returning to Blitz's eyes. Perspiration across Christian's brow. Wipe it away with the back of a hand. The windows look out to a brooding grey. Sound of rumbling distant thunder. One nearly could make a run for it. Beat it just up the street into Chinatown.

"Now Mr Christian. You seem like a nice young man.''

"Thank you."

"Did you ever embalm a body before Mr Silver's.''

''Yes. I assisted with some.''

"And before that did you take training.''

"No. But I knew a lot of kids interested in wild animals and we read this book on taxidermy. I also learned to skin a chipmunk and prepare muskrat skins. Do you want me to continue."

"Yes do continue Mr Christian."

Christian looking out at the courtroom faces. Pausing in the flow as the head of Mr Vine's counsel bows slowly forward into his hands. Making him look as if he was pretty upset. And there standing right in the rear. My friend fat cheeks from the institution. Flashing open his coat. With a message.

FLEAS

"Well I mean that was in my youth. It was after I was orphaned."

''And you regarded this as some kind of apprenticeship to later becoming a qualified mortician, Mr Christian."

"Well skinning animals and stuffing them is skilled work.''

"O I'm not suggesting for a moment Mr Christian that the work isn't skilled. I am merely pointing out that this perhaps was your total experience prior to embalming and preparing a human subject for burial.''

"I stuffed a snapping turtle. It was the biggest one ever caught in the Bronx. Its jaws could break a steel bar in. half.''

"O. Do go on. Don't mind me Mr Christian. This amazed look on my face is just one of admiration.''

"Well I thought it was itchiness the way you're scratching yourself. And it's distracting me.''

"I'm sorry. Is that better. My hands in my pockets. Now what about this snapping turtle.''

''You really want to hear this.''

"I only want to hear what you feel will help us know something about your early work in undertaking.''

"Well I don't want to mislead the court. I just knew about stuffing animals and making them look like they were alive. We did it with a big copperhead snake. We put it through the window into the front hallway of this house one Saturday night when they were having a party, and everybody in the house went mighty pronto out the windows. Except the invalid father in law in a wheel chair and they just slammed him unmercifully right through the screen door without opening it.''

The judge leaning forward on one black robed arm. Hammering his gavel down with the other.

"If there's any more laughter I'll clear the court. It's bad enough the whole bunch of you out there scratching. You'd think the place was crawling with bugs.''

''It is your honor."

"Well be thankful then they're only bugs and not copperheads. Continue Mr Christian."

"Well I was only showing I could do a realistic and lifelike stuffing."

On a side bench in his own judicial black robes, a gentleman seated. Behaving just like the judge, using his fist in the palm of his hand as a silent gavel. As he considers the pleadings. Someone else sneaking open a lunch box and taking a bite out of a sandwich. As Mr Blitz rocks back and forth on his heels. Sporting rather over large chrome buckles on the side of his shoes. And raising his chin and bad breath in my direction.

"You're a bit of a practical joker Mr Christian. Frightening people out of their wits and houses.''

"That's not true."

"O what then is true Mr Christian.''

"Well these people weren't very nice. They were stingy and mean and sat around drinking highballs and playing bridge every Friday night. I was underprivileged at the time. Besides I was only about twelve.''

"And you stopped doing these things at thirteen Mr Christian."

"No. I did a few more things after that.''

"O do please tell us. And what were these. This is a nice sultry day for stories."

"Well I don't think they have anything to do with this case."

"On the contrary they have a lot to do with it. Indeed it may show you're just a high spirited young man who likes to have a laugh once in a while.''

"Well I used to collect dog droppings. And I used to put them on people's front porches and cover them in fallen leaves.''

"Ah this was an autumn escapade Mr Christian."

"Yes it was. And then I'd light the leaves and ring the doorbell and folk would come running out of their houses to find a fire lit on their porch and they would start to trample it out.''

"To put it, if I may, in a more vulgar way, these innocent people were stamping hysterically in dog shit."

"Objection your honor, objection. Mr Blitz cannot continue with this totally irrelevant skirmishing. Mr Christian was like any young man growing up in his community, and giving neighborhood oldsters a tough time. As a kid I used to put live snakes down people's heating pipes and they'd drop down on them from the ceilings."

A massive thunderclap and flash of lightning. Polk in the courtroom ducking. Rain pelting against the windows. Darkness. Courtroom lights switched on. My friend fat cheeks grinning and shaking his head up and down in yeses. As the gathering scratched and cowered and Mr Blitz raised his finger to point at Christian.

"And is it not true Mr Christian that you thought you would have one hell of a joke making Mr Silver look like some carnival doll. Just because you get a kick out of seeing people outraged. And have an innocent woman walk into this most traumatic experience of her life. To whom you issued the threat that you would embalm her.''

"I thought it would calm her down.''

"Calm her down. So to calm people down, you suggest embalming. "

"For some it gives lasting peace.''

"O this courtroom may laugh Mr Christian but I don't think that's at all funny. Pump full of formaldehyde. Sell as a bloody monster. Shut your ass hole you god damn fucking bitch. You said these words Mr Christian to calm Mrs Silver."

"I thought some strong language might console her."

"Console."

"Well that word just slipped in there.''

"Lots of words Mr Christian seemed to have slipped in there. Including fill you full of formaldehyde. And sell you as a monster. Is that what you thought would console Mrs Silver."

''I thought it might improve her manners.''

"Her manners."

''Yes they were appalling.''

"This seems cavalier coming from you Mr Christian. Spreading a dog's doings on the front porches of community citizens."

"How dare you refer back to that. I told the court that in confidence."

"Dare, of course I dare Mr Christian. Just as you dared to make a laughing stock of the remains of Mr Silver and scar Mrs Silver's memory of her husband for life. How dare I. You bet I dare. And I further dare to hope that your shitty pranks get banner headlines coast to coast."

"Counsel that's enough now of that.''

"But your honor it was Mr Christian who acquainted us with his daredevil community antics."

"Confine yourself to cross examination."

"Very well. Mr Christian. Who are you."

''I beg your pardon."

"I asked who you are. You said earlier you'd been orphaned."

"I am Cornelius Treacle Christian, of the Brooklyn Treacles and the Bronx Christians who got unloaded from a boat from Europe."

"I see. Not a very edifying background if I may say so.''

"They were impoverished well meaning people proud of the chance this country gave them. And they would have viewed your vulgar insult as beneath contempt.''

"I see we 're getting a little bit of your strong tongue now.''

"And I'll belt you out the window of this courtroom in a second, you sneaky little god damn fart.''

"Ah that's more like it, a full flowering. No please, your honor, let Mr Christian continue.''

"Counsel you've insulted Mr Christian. If he socks you I may treat it as an occasion of instant justice. And hold you in contempt for getting in the way of his fist."

"Your honor that's no way to run a court.''

"Are you telling me how to run my court, a god damn store front lawyer like you.''

"No your honor. Gee whizz suddenly I'm the guy who did everything wrong. Excuse me I need to take one of my heart pills. I feel real lousy. I mean my client isn't getting a fair hearing. Here's a kid up there tells us he's stuffing turtles. Spreading dog shit on people's porches. When they're in the middle of their chicken dinners. Flinging poisonous snakes into the middle of bridge parties. When someone might be trying a grand slam. And I get held in contempt for getting in the way of his fist when he feels like throwing it. I mean is this the new liberty. That's come to swamp our way of life. Is this what our city has come to. When a weed isn't safe in a window box anymore. That even dead bodies have to take their chances. What's the life long struggle for, if you die and then get the biggest insult of your life. From someone whose been cleaning out rest rooms. One half million dollars damages will never compensate Mrs Silver for the horror of that day haunting her every waking and sleeping minute. And what a thought. That when she dies this could happen to her. A widow made overweight with nervous worry. She too could be flung into her coffin like a cut rate side street whorer. At a time of her life when she should enjoy. With her other widowed girl friends the bliss of a calm happiness without a husband coming home with his head in his hands with business worries. Her still youthful flesh could be getting golden at the best beach front hotels on the Florida coast. And where with the many swamps being reclaimed she could lie wrapped in the dreams of her retirement home. Her only heartbreak being the trouble she might meet finding the right antiques to grace her castle in paradise. Instead of here. In this bug infested dusty courtroom. During a thunderstorm. Is this what she stuck by her husband for through all his years of merchandising. With collar styles changing so fast her husband was sickened by the inventory dumped on his hands by a gimmick fickle, junior executive population seeking only a brief sartorial thrill. Yes, I dare to say it. There's what today's modern world has come to. Sitting in that witness box. Schooled in all the low foul dirty tricks that mature citizens of this country are now harried and hurried to their graves with. With the final ridicule lying in wait for them. Eight in their very coffins. Where when they should rest in peace. They rest in horror. And in these days when our daily lives are being threatened whenever we go outside our homes and even inside. The one place left was the funeral parlor. Is that now too, to become an area of fear. I'm sweating. That's all I've got to say. Except I say to you, who was known as Herbert Silver. Wherever yon now may be. Goodnight sweet prince."

Don't

Get yonr feet

Wet

In heaven

21

On that witness day, as the bugs were jumping over everybody, the court adjourned with a slew of suings for bodily injury bites. Cornelius Christian stepped down from the stand, walked four steps and swooned. And falling, dreamt of Fanny. That she was a girl with a black bow in her blond hair and I was a boy in my only best suit. And I took her to my first dance. Gliding over the floor. She in a wispy gown. Her smiles all glowing and glad. And she whispered in my ear. Cornelius what kind of toothpaste do you use.

Vine patting Christian on the back. His team of lawyers brushing me off. I was led under an umbrella down the court house steps and climbed into a Vine limozine. A sad look on the face of fat cheeks. But he smiled as he flashed open his coat with a new sign.

SLANDER NOT SLIME

Charlie sped me up town. To Thirty Third and Fifth. Rain flooding the streets. Folk rushing from doorway to doorway. Beneath those endless windows each with a name and product. How does all the commerce get done. A whole phone book full of lawyers. To take their clients by the hand and lead them through all the chiseling. A relief to see Charlie's grave face again.

"You did good up there Cornelius. You stumped that smart ass lawyer trying to put the big bite on Mr Vine. You know, there must be happiness somewhere, when a lawyer dies. In that courtroom, boy could you get a bird's eye view of the world."

Charlie leading Christian from limozine to one of the sixty seven elevators. In this vast rose marble hall. An upwards ear deafening express to the swaying eighty fifth floor. Step out and leave all these other folk heading for the top of this skyscraper. Walk down a hall over rubbery floors past frosted glass doors. Numbers and names. And this one Doctor Pedro.

A white coated and elegant legged woman gets up to lead Christian through a door. A tiny white haired twinkling eyed doctor sitting behind his desk. A rainy city below. See the Hudson River and the stony steep ridge of the palisades. And north past a peek of Central Park and over all the Harlem crazy streets. To the sad unsung gothic splendours of the Bronx.

"Come in, now what's wrong with you young man, take a seat. You're a good friend of Clarance. Clarance, he's a good smart man. Has the best job of all. Everyone comes to him he puts them in a box. They don't need a cure. A little candle light, music, flowers and a ride. You know why I have my office up here so high. I'll tell you. So I can look down and see all the jackasses. Whole place is full of them. You want to live long. Don't pray to god. You annoy him and he kill you faster. Now what's the matter with you. Nothing's the matter with me. I'm eighty six. You know why nothing's the matter with me. I'll tell you. I don't talk bullshit. That's why I am eighty six. Now what's wrong with you."

''I fainted in court."

"That was smart. How many fingers have I got held up.''

"That was smart.

"Three."

''Ever get headaches.''

"No."

"Good. Now open your fly and milk down your prick. Good.

Now touch your toes. Good. You crap all right.''

"Yes."

"Good. If you eat good, crap good, work good, nothing can kill you except a long life. I send Vine my bill and you live happily ever after. How's that.''

"Ok."

"You look like you got brains. Are you smart.''

"I hope so."

"Well it's good to be smart in this town. Where everything is selling or stealing. Sure everybody's worried about crime. But I'll tell you. Without crime this city would collapse. Everybody come to me. They all want needles in their backside. Pricks up their ass hole would do them more good. They don't feel good in this town till you stick a needle in their rear end. So I take this out. Fat as a cigar. They see me coming at them with the dresses up and their pants down and they start running. I say why are you running. They say holy cow doc you're not going to stick that big thing in my ass. I say I'm too old for flattery. That sure, I'm going to stick this big needle in your ass. That's what you want don't you. I'm a good doctor I use a big needle. Well then they don't want this needle. So you know what I give them. Penance. I send them home to use their eyebrows. God gave you eyebrows to catch the sweat. So go scrub your kitchen floor. Down on your knees. I tell them. The whole god damn floor. Till it shines. That's the cure. For you too. God damn people think they can sit around on their god damn fat flat asses and get a needle in it and be healthy. That's bull shit. So you get out of here, you're fine. Don't get syph or the clap. Watch out for the crabs too. Clean your ass with soap and water after you crap. Walk three miles a day. And don't listen to jackasses. And wait. Before you go. You know how to test the real beauty of a woman."

"No."

"It's easy. You really know she's beautiful when you want to kiss the toilet seat she sits on. Goodbye. And watch out for jackasses. Hey wait a minute. You know what god is.''

"No."

"God is what your desires are. What are your desires. They should be plenty ass and plenty money. So that's what god is, plenty ass and plenty money. Goodbye. Watch out for clap. It comes in the throat too. Hey wait a minute. You know I'm a bachelor. I bury three girlfriends. I should have been dead three times. You know why I don't die. Because I tell women what to do. Goodbye. Hey wait a minute. Don't forget. Watch out for jackasses. You know why. Because you just met one."

Charlie delivering me that day back to my shady side street. Up Fifth Avenue. Through the flood of yellow cabs. Folk waiting. Doormen's whistles blowing. People stepping in under the canopies. In thunder wind and lightning. Flashing up the underside of the leaves in the park. The whole city washed clean. Dust and grime down the sewers. All ready for a brand new layer. Just as I crawled into my own little hole. And switched on a television set I bought. To watch the jackasses.

Took Doctor Pedro's advice. For a few minutes. Lifting up the carpet on the floor. To scrub. Until I nearly got smothered in dust. And next day Howard How called me into his office.

"What's bugging you Cornelius. I have complaint after complaint about you."

"I'm sorry Mr How somehow the struggle upwards seems too steep."

"Let us be confidential Cornelius. We're a team here. Just ask yourself. Are you giving of your best. Maybe word formation isn't the activity for you right now. How about selling. I know you're poised and articulate.''

"I guess those are my strong points."

"But Cornelius can you be hard driving. Enough to be able to season yourself to sell in the furore of changeability. With the continual creation of new marketing concepts."

"Mr How right now I honestly don't think I could sell a nozzle, pump or valve to institutionalized patients who were building an asylum energy machine that goes on fire and they want to build another to put it out. I got my last employer into half a million dollar damage action.''

"Hey gee Cornelius, hey gee. You're not going to do that to us."

"No no. It's just that I 'm no damn good.''

"Don't say that. Sure you are. Why don't you take a day or two off. I'll give you a shot at sales when you come back. But Cornelius, level with me. Could I really trust you in sales. Is there any chance at all that you could be an aggressive cut throat deal closer who can go out there and dig up the opportunities. All you have to do is keep your foot in the door. But can a guy like you take a few slams on the ankle once in a while. In the wide business spectrum that exists today you really got to maximise your opportunities. Don't insult the faith I put into you. They tell me from the department that everytime they look around they catch you watching them tear down that building across the street. Sure we all like to watch that. Like I mean, did you see yesterday that guy out there swinging on the girder, gee I couldn't watch, there he was up fifty stories, working while he's eating a god damn sandwich. I had to look through my fingers over my face. They say they got Mohawk Indians doing that.''

For four days away from the office I went out at noon looking for women. At last seeing one suitable coming with big tits out of the park. Just as I was going to ask her to come for a soda, she asked me where the Staten Island ferry was. I opened up my mouth to say I was glad she asked me that question and not a word came out. Because just behind her on the newspaper kiosk was a headline.

MONSTER EMBALMING

CHRISTIAN CLEARS VINE OF JUICY

GRAPES OF WRATH DRIPPING WITH DAMAGES

The girl stood looking as I stared dumbfounded. Until my tongue finally worked and I pointed at the stack of papers. Said that's me. She stepped back. As I pleaded.

"Really it is. Eight in the headline. No kidding, don't go away. I 'll take you right to the ferry.''

"Are you all right.''

"Yes I apologise for the coincidence. That I'm in a headline. You won't mind waiting while I read it.''

"No, sure."

The testimony of a handsome blond Cornelius Treacle Christian was thought to have clinched dismissal of a suit brought by a Mrs Harriet Silver for half million buckeroos damages in the civil court in a judgement handed down by Justice Torn. Expert medical testimony had said Mrs Silver's fear of death had now become impossible to live with after her funereal experience in the Vine Funeral Parlor with the remains of her late husband Herbert who had been "tarted up beyond recognition."However the judge in handing down his decision said that attention had to be paid to the fact that Mr Christian who prepared the remains had improved upon the condition of the body, and that it was in no less good condition than it had been in after he performed his tasks upon it, therefore it was now left to decide that if upon confrontation with such a body whose preparation was not to the liking of the mourner Mrs Silver, whether Mrs Silver had been damaged by suffering a "monstrous mortification."The Justice said that in spite of a most impassioned plea by counsel for the plaintiff, the position was akin to having a room decorated. And that one person might come in and say it looks swell and another might come in and say hey what the hell happened. The question then was a matter of taste. And if damages were awarded concerning a matter of taste the courts .would be so jammed there wouldn't be room for a bug. This latter remark by the Justice is thought to refer to the spate of actions filed against the city for bug bites during the hearing.

Christian folding the newspaper. Taking a nice easy shallow lungful of mild auto exhaust. Look out now again around the earth. Only three thousand phone calls away from success. Till I can tuck myself into a green tapestried room. Somewhere up there in that mountain range of towering buildings. And meanwhile tell this waiting girl.

"I'm sorry about that. But it's the first time I've ever seen my name in the newspapers. It makes you think you're right there. Right on the page and that it's you.''

She wore a pink thin jacket flying open over a tight purple sweater all under a big head of curly blond hair. Close up she looks worse and different than she did far away. When she looked swell. But when you looked close again she looked better. We walked around the corner of the park and by the big memorial to those who lost their lives on a battleship. As she sneaked looks at me. I convinced her what a waste of time and danger it was riding the ferry. And half way down Central Park South, just as I was going to reverse our tracks back to bed. A long grey chauffeured limozine with the porthole back windows squealed stopped.

Fanny Sourpuss stepping out. Breasts bouncing in a white summery flowered dress, sandals flapping on her feet. Her long tan arms jangling a mob of bracelets. Walking right up to me on these hexagonal asphalt blocks. To raise her eyebrows at this girl.

"How dare you be seen like this with my husband you little tramp."

Girl looking at Christian for advice as she steps back a little to enquire.

''Hey who's kidding, who are you.''

"I'm his wife and I'll give you a god damn sock in the eye if you don't get the hell out of here. And I'll god damn well bite your ear lobes off too."

''Gee do you really mean it.''

"You 're god damn right I mean it. Beat it.''

As I stand watching her go wide eyed with one look back over her shoulder. And Fanny heaving, eyes blazing. Color in her cheeks.

"And as for you, you god damn son of a bitch. Who was that little blond dyed cunt, you just picked up, who was she.''

''I was giving her directions.''

''Directions my ass. You were going to fuck her.''

''How do you know, you just got out of your car.''

"I know when a guy's trying to fuck somebody. Besides I've been watching you since you came out of your house.''

Glen sitting chewing gum, staring ahead through his windscreen. Double parked. In the humid afternoon. Taxis squeal by as doormen's whistles blow. A haze covering the sky. To make more thunder clouds collect in the west. Folk slow down to stare. At Fanny swaying with one fist pressed on her hip, And to see her nose, her eyes and lips and her whole lazy eyed face again. And smell her perfume.

''Look, that girl was a nice person.''

"Nice person my ass, no girl's a nice person. I know what every one of these god damn girls are after. Don't tell me. Nice girl. The fuck she was.''

"You 're invading my privacy."

"That's right. I'm invading your privacy. You think you're so god damn beautiful walking around this town like a prize peacock."

"As a matter of fact I've been wracked by humility this morning."

Fanny dropping her arms. A long silent staring. The little light coming slowly bright in her eyes. Getting bigger like the small smile on her lips.

"O god Cornelius, you're such a dream, I can't get over you. My own my most cherished mortician and I kicked you out. It's just that I can't stand seeing you eating and drinking all my good food and booze and taking baths in my luxurious bathroom. That'sail it is."

"What do you want me to do."

"Get a job as a house wrecker. With dust falling all over you and sweat pouring down your face, your veins and muscles bulging, your arms getting sunburned.''