Death on the Installment Plan (28 page)

Read Death on the Installment Plan Online

Authors: Louis-Ferdinand Celine

BOOK: Death on the Installment Plan
3.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
The neighbors were mighty interested in my tragedy … Our customers too. As soon as they got to know me a little, my mother told them all about it … That didn’t help matters … Even Monsieur Lempreinte at La Coccinelle finally got mixed up in it … It’s true that my father didn’t sleep anymore, that he was beginning to look like a corpse … He came to work so exhausted that he staggered in the hallways as he carried the mail from one floor to another … Besides, he’d lost his voice, he’d gone hoarse from bellowing his inanities …
“Your private life, my friend, doesn’t concern me in the least. That’s your business. But I expect you to do your work properly … Look at the face on you … You’re falling apart … You’ve got to take care of yourself! What have you been doing on the outside? Aren’t you getting enough rest?” That was the way he peppered him.
Then my father was scared and told him all about it … all his family troubles …
“Ah, my poor boy! Is that all? Lord, if only I had your stomach! Believe me, I wouldn’t give a good godam … not much! … about all my neighbors and relations … about all my sons and cousins … my wife! my daughters! my eighteen fathers! If I was in your place, I’d piss on everybody. On the whole world. You hear what I say! You’re soft, monsieur, that’s all I can see.”
That was how Lempreinte looked at things, on account of his ulcer, an inch away from the pylorus, eating into him, excruciating … The whole world for him was nothing but one mass of acid … The only thing left for him to do was to try to turn into bicarbonate … He worked at it all day … he took whole carloads of the stuff … He couldn’t put out the fire. He had a poker at the bottom of his esophagus that was burning his guts … Soon there wouldn’t be anything left but holes … The stars would shine through every time he belched … He and Papa were always offering to change places …
“I’d take your ulcer any day. Anything you please, if only you’ll take my son off my hands! How about it?”
That was my father. He’d always put moral torment way above physical pain … It was more respectable … More essential. That’s how it was with the Romans, and that’s how he saw all the trials of existence … At peace with his conscience … Through thick and thin, come what may! Amid the worst calamities! … No compromise! No evasions! That was his law! … his
raison d’être!
My conscience is my own! My conscience! He shouted that in every key … when I stuck my fingers in my nose … if I upset the salt cellar. He opened the window on purpose to give the Passage a treat …
Seeing me down like that, my ears chewed off in every direction, Uncle Édouard finally took pity on me, he was a very good guy … I was up to my ears in shit … He got his connections moving again and found a way … A shrewd trick to get me out of there … the foreign-language routine …
Just like that he says I ought to know at least one … if I want a job in business … that it was being done nowadays … it was a necessity … The hardest part was getting my parents’ consent … The suggestion floored them completely … Still, Édouard knew what he was talking about … We’d lost the habit in our shanty of hearing anything sensible … It came as a big surprise …
My uncle didn’t believe in being strict all the time … He was for conciliation, he didn’t believe in force … He didn’t think it would get results … He told them so straight from the shoulder.
“If he does everything wrong, I don’t think it’s on purpose … His intentions aren’t bad … I’ve been watching him for years … He’s just dull-witted … He doesn’t understand what people want of him … It must be adenoids … He ought to be out in the fresh air and stay quite a long time … Isn’t that what your doctor told you? … If you ask me, I’d send him to England … We’d find a respectable boardingschool … not too expensive … or too far away … maybe we could make an arrangement for him to work for his board and lodging? … How does it strike you? When he comes back, he’ll know the language … It’ll be easy to find him a job … I could find him something in the retail trade … In a bookstore … Or in haberdashery … Some place where he isn’t known. Gorloge would be forgotten … We’d never even mention it again …”
When my parents heard that, they were flummoxed. They pondered the pros and cons … It took them off their guard … There were so many dangers and what about the expense … There was nothing left of Caroline’s legacy, only a few thousand francs … And that was Édouard’s share … Right away he offered it. He put the money on the table … They’d give it back when they could … He wouldn’t listen to any nonsense … He wouldn’t even take an IOU. “Think it over,” he said. “I’ll be back tomorrow. By then I’ll have some information …”
The excitement was at its peak! … My father wouldn’t have anything to do with it … He was absolutely convinced that all that money would be thrown out the window, that it was sheer waste and madness to boot … That if I escaped from their vigilant supervision for so much as a week I’d turn into the worst of thugs … That was a certainty and you couldn’t tell him any different … I’d murder somebody in England just as quickly as in Paris! No two ways about it. It was in the bag … All they had to do was turn me loose for a month … Were they asking for disaster? … Well, their prayers would be answered and then some. They’d be cooked … Up to their necks in debt! A son in the pen! … Extravagance all along the line! … And the consequences? … Unspeakable. Those people over there would never look sharp enough, they’d never be smart enough! The poor bastards! He’ll put them through the mill. And what about the women? I’d rape every last one of them. It was plain as day: “Go on, tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about!”
He had his penitentiary on the brain … No one could argue with him … To him that was the only remedy, the only palliative … the only way to hold me in check … Don’t you learn anything from experience? Haven’t we been through enough? … Berlope? Gor-loge? The clock? Hadn’t I proved sufficiently that I was the scum of the earth? A disaster hanging over their heads! … I’d drag them all down with me in my ruin … He’d expected it from the start! Alea! … God’s will be done! He gave us another load of Caesar … All by himself he defended Gaul! … He stopped up the kitchen door with his gestures and his ranting … He evoked the past and future, he shook the whole place …
He ran to the water faucet … He stuck his face in the jet and gulped … He was sopping wet and still yelling … He didn’t dry himself, he ran around dripping in his hurry to acquaint us with the thousand pitfalls in wait for me … with every aspect of the situation … It was inconceivable! Frightful! Unheard-of. The unspeakable surprises that such an expedition would involve! It was diabolical foolishness, and that’s that!
Two days later Uncle Édouard came back to the Passage with some first-class dope. He had located a school. What more could we want? From every point of view and in every way … just the thing for me, for my nature, my intractable disposition … On a hilltop. With plenty of fresh air, a garden, a river down below … Excellent food … Extremely moderate prices … No supplements, no surprises! … Last but not least, the strictest discipline … Supervision … It wasn’t very far from the coast, in Rochester to be exact … Only an hour from Folkestone …
In spite of all these advantages, my father had his doubts … He’d see … He clung to his suspicions … He looked for niggers in the woodpile … He read the little ad a hundred times … He went right on insisting that we were headed for disaster … It was sure as shooting … First of all it was insane to contract any more debts … Even with Uncle Édouard … Even to pay back Gorloge would be a labor of Hercules … What with the rent! taxes! the seamstress! … They’d have to tighten their belts till they croaked! He had to pinch himself to believe they wanted to spend more money! … He was aghast to see Mama going out of her mind too … It was the height of damn foolishness … How’s that? Wasn’t she going to think it over a little more? … What’s that you say? I’m making difficulties! Does that strike you as so unusual? My goodness! What am I expected to do? Say yes? Every single time? Just like that? To every crazy idea that comes into your head? Go on! I know what I’m doing. I’m responsible. Who’s the father around here anyway? Édouard doesn’t give a damn, that’s a cinch. When the trouble breaks, he’ll be miles away. He’ll wash his hands of it. But I’ll always be here. With a bandit on my neck. That’s right. Yes, every bit of it. I exaggerate? Wah! … Go ahead, say it. Say I’m jealous. Go right ahead. Damn it all. Go ahead and say it …
“Of course not, darling. Come, come …”
“Shut up, you simpleton, will you shut up? Let me finish and I’ll prove it. I can’t say anything around here anymore! Somebody else is always talking. What’s that? That good-for-nothing! That little gangster! That pervert, who hasn’t even felt the first glimmerings of remorse for his repulsive crime! For his infamous sneaky theft. There he is. Lounging around! … Defying us both! It’s disgraceful, I tell you! … It’s enough to make you dash your ass against the floor! … It makes my hair stand on end! … Just because Édouard has deigned to open his mouth! That clown! That jumping jack! All you can think about is travel! Extravagance! Sure! Why not? New ways of spending our money! Pure tommyrot! Insanity! Madness … Has it ever entered your head, you poor addled thing, that we haven’t even begun to pay his ransom! … You heard me … His ransom! … Why, it’s unthinkable! … Abominable! … What are we coming to? I’m going out of my mind! Unspeakable! We’re up to our necks in absurdity! I can’t stand it! It’s killing me!”
Uncle Édouard had taken a powder at the beginning of the session. He’d seen the storm coming … He’d left his prospectuses …
“I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon … You’ll have made up your minds by then …”
He was handling things as best he could, but there wasn’t much he could do … My father was in full eruption. This plan for my departure upset his whole tragedy … He tried to save it by fussing over the conditions … He saw completely red … He paced the room like a wild animal … My mother hobbled along behind him … She went on about the advantages … the reasonable prices … the strict supervision … the splendid food … the fresh air … Lots of fresh air!
“You know Édouard is completely dependable … I know you don’t think much of him … But you’ve got to admit he’s no fool … He’s not impulsive … He doesn’t rush into things with his eyes closed … When he says something, that means it’s so … You know that as well as I do … Admit it … Come along now, Auguste, my poor darling …”
“I don’t want to be beholden to anybody …”
“But he isn’t just anybody! …”
“That’s all the more reason. Jumping Jehoshaphat!”
“We’ll give him a note, as if he were a stranger!”
“You know what you can do with your notes, godammit to blinking hell!”
“But he’s never let us down… .”
“He gives me a swift pain in the balls … that damn brother of yours … do you hear me? … He gives me … I hope I’ve made myself clear … He’s the biggest damn fool of the lot … And you two give me an even worse pain, do you hear me? The whole damn lot of you …”
He worked himself into such a lather that his whole head swelled up, he let off jets of steam, and in the end his words exploded like firecrackers. She latched onto him, she wouldn’t give an inch. She was stubborn … She wrestled him into the corners … Her leg dragged so bad it got caught in all the chairs. She supported herself against the walls …
“Auguste! Oh, you’re hurting me! You’re so rough. Oh, my ankle! Now you’ve done it. I’ve twisted it!”
The screams went on for an hour …
He started up again. He kicked the chairs to pieces. He went raving mad. Even so, she pursued him wherever he went … even up the stairs … That drove him even wilder … Tip-tap-plunk, tip-tap-plunk, to hear her clumping on the stairs … He’d have gladly thrown her straight over the banister … Or crawled into a rathole … She’d make me little signs as she passed … meaning that he was beginning to weaken … He kept on losing his cap … He let her catch up with him … He couldn’t keep up the pace … He fled as from a bad smell … “Leave me alone, leave me alone, please, Clémence … I beg you, leave me alone, godammit! You stinking bitch! Won’t the two of you ever get sick of persecuting me! All you do is talk talk talk, I’ve got it up to here. Godammit to lousy stinking hell! Will you ever listen to me!”
My good mother didn’t care what he said, she was worn to a frazzle, but wouldn’t relax her grip. She grappled him by the neck, she kissed him on the moustache, she closed his eyes with kisses … She treated him to a convulsion. She spat supplications into his ears … In the end she had him gagging. His head was sopping wet with storms and caresses … He couldn’t stand straight. He collapsed on the stairs. Then she began talking about his own health, his alarming condition … Everybody had been saying how pale he was … Then he was willing to listen …
“You’re going to make yourself really sick, my poor angel, working yourself up into such a state! If you come down, where will that get us? What will become of us? … I assure you it’s better he should go away … His being here is making you sick … Édouard saw that … He told me so before he left …”
“What did Édouard tell you anyway?”
“Your husband won’t last long. If he keeps on working himself up like that … He’s wasting away … Everybody’s noticed it in the Passage … Everybody’s talking about it …”
“Were those his exact words?”
“Yes, angel. I assure you … He didn’t want me to tell you … You see how tactful he is … You see, I assure you, you can’t go on like this … You see? You agree, don’t you?”

Other books

Overruled by Emma Chase
The Warlock of Rhada by Robert Cham Gilman
Public Enemy by Bill Ayers
The Flavor Of Love by McCarver, Shiree, Flowers, E. Gail
Island of Shadows by Erin Hunter
Breathless by Dean Koontz
Soul Catcher by E. L. Todd
MARY AND O'NEIL by Justin Cronin