Death on the Installment Plan (68 page)

Looking into the distance, I could begin to make out the shapes of the other shacks … And past the big empty lots there were tall chimneys … the factory in Arcueil … that smelled so strong of cinnamon over the vineyards and the pond … By now I could see the villas all around … All sizes … Little by little the colors came out … a regular battle … all ugly as hell, fighting in the fields … All kinds … rocky, flattened, arrogant, bandy-legged … pale, half-finished ones, skinny, emaciated … staggering … reeling on their frames … A massacre in yellow, brick-red, and semi-piss color … Not a one that can stand up right … A collection of toys plunked down in the shit!

In the lot next door there was a regular little monument, a miniature fretwork church something like Notre-Dame, a cabinet-maker’s fancy … He kept rabbits in it …

The old bag went on talking, drooling, explaining … In the end she ran down … she lost the thread of her thoughts … she’d had enough … We’d been out there in the gale for two full hours …

“That’ll do! Who does he take us for? … I’m sick and tired of his nonsense … Hell, why shouldn’t he come out too? … I’m going to give that brute a piece of my mind … Come, Ferdinand … This way, by the kitchen door … He’s going too far … What if I come down with pleurisy? …” She hightails it up to the terrace … Just as she opens the door, des Pereires appears … He pops out of the darkness, he was coming to get us … Some cock-eyed rig he had on … He was all wrapped up in the big tablecloth … He’d made a hole for his head and pinned it up with safety pins and a rope around the waist … He comes down the five steps, he grabs me by the arm … He looks completely absorbed … really deep in something … He drags me out to the end of the garden, over by the last frame … He bends down, he pulls up a radish, he shows it to me, he puts it under my nose …

“You see?” he says … “Take a good look! … You see? … You see how big it is? … And this leek? You see it? And how about this fellow? …”

It’s some funny-looking vegetable I don’t recognize …

“Do you see it?”

“Yes,” I say, “of course.”

“Then come over here! Quick, quick!” He drags me to the other end of the garden … He bends over … He gets down on his knees, he crawls, he puts his whole arm through the fence … He puffs and blows … He pokes around in the neighbor’s garden … He pulls up another radish … He brings it back … He presents it to me … He wants me to compare … He’s triumphant … The other guy’s radish is really very little … infinitesimal … almost nonexistent … And pale! He thrusts both of them under my nose, his and the stunted one …

“Compare, Ferdinand, compare. I’m not trying to influence you. Decide for yourself … I don’t know what Madame des Pereires may have been telling you … but just take a look … Scrutinize them … Feel their weight! … Don’t let anything cloud your judgment … The big one is mine! Thanks to tellurism! Look at it. His, without tellurism, infinitesimal! Compare! That’s all! I add nothing! Why confuse you? … What interests me is conclusions! Conclusions! … What can be done … what must be done …
with
tellurism … And mark my words, in this field, so inhospitable in its texture, all I have to work with is a mere telluric auxiliary! … Auxiliary, I repeat! … Not the big ‘Tornado’ model … Of course, I must add, there are certain all-important requirements … The roots have to be bearing roots! Ah yes, bearing roots! And the soil has to be ‘ferro-calcic’ … if possible with a certain magnesium content … Otherwise you won’t get anywhere … So now judge for yourself … You understand? No? … You don’t understand? … You’re like her … You understand nothing! … Yes, yes, exactly! You’re blind, both of you! But what about that big radish? You see it, don’t you? Right there in the palm of your hand? And the little one? You see it too, don’t you? Stunted! Dwarfed! This miserable puny radish! … A radish is a perfectly simple matter, isn’t it? No, it’s not simple? Ah, you disarm me! … And a giant radish, Ferdinand? Imagine an enormous radish! … Say as big as your head! … Suppose I take this ludicrous little radish and blow it up to enormous size with telluric blasts … Well? Like a balloon! Ah? And suppose I make a hundred thousand of them … a hundred thousand radishes! More and more voluminous! … And each year as many as I please … Five hundred thousand … enormous radishes! … As big as pears! … As big as pumpkins! … Radishes such as nobody has ever seen! … Why, it’s automatic … I eliminate the small radish … I wipe small radishes off the face of the earth! … I corner the market, I erect a monopoly! All your measly undersized vegetables are finished! Unthinkable! Through! All these baubles! These small-fry! No more tiny bunches! No more piddling shipments! If they keep, it’s only by miracle … It’s wasteful, my friend … anachronistic … shameful! … Enormous radishes, that’s what I want to see! And here’s our slogan: The future belongs to the radish … my radish … And what’s going to stand in my way? … My market? The whole world! … Is my radish nutritious? Tremendously! … Radish flour is fifty percent richer than the other kind … ‘Radicious bread’ for the army! … Far superior to all the wheat of Australia! … The analyses bear me out! … Well, what do you think of it? … Is it beginning to dawn on you? You’re not interested! Neither is she … But I am … If I devote myself to the radish … I’m only taking the radish as an example, I might have chosen the turnip … But let’s take the radish! The shock value will be greater. So there you are! I’m going into it! To the hilt! … to the hilt, do you hear … You catch my meaning?”

He’s still clutching me, he drags me off toward the view, on the south side … From there, it’s perfectly true, you could see the whole of Paris … The city was like an enormous animal, sprawled across the horizon … It’s black, it’s gray … it changes … it smokes … it makes a sad sound, a soft rumbling … it’s like a shell … notches, holes, spines catching at the sky … Des Pereires doesn’t give a hoot, he’s still talking … He harangues the scenery … He hoists himself up on the rail … He deepens his voice … It carries far away … It rolls over quarries and landslides …

“Look, Ferdinand, look! …” I open my eyes as wide as they’ll go … I make a last effort … I’m really awfully tired … I wish he wouldn’t start in again …

“Farther, Ferdinand! Farther … Do you see the city now? At the end! Do you see Paris? The capital? …”

“Yes … yes … yes! … that’s it all right …”

“They eat, don’t they?”

“Yes, Monsieur Courtial!”

“Every day, don’t they?”

“Yes, yes … yes!”

“Good! Then listen to me!”

Silence … He stirs up the air magnificently … He spreads his wings … He opens his cape a little … His gestures are really something … Is he going to fling challenges again? … He smiles in anticipation … He’s sardonic … He dispels a vision … a phantom … he brushes it aside … He taps his dome … Yes, indeed … Good Lord, he’d been mistaken! He’d been deceiving himself all along! Ah! A big mistake! He questions me … He calls me to witness:

“So then they eat, Ferdinand? … they eat … yes indeed, they eat … And I, poor fool! Where have I been? … Oh futile courage! But I’ve been punished! Cut to the quick! … I bleed! And it serves me right! Forget? Not I! Oh ho! I’m going to take them as they are! … and where they are! In their bellies! Customers by and for the belly … I will address their bellies, Ferdinand! …”

He addresses the city too … all of it, rumbling over yonder in the mist …

“Whistle, you bitch! Mutter and roar! Grunt! … I hear you! … Gluttons! … Bottomless pits … All that’s going to change, Ferdinand! … Gluttons, I tell you! …”

He calms down. Confidence returns … He smiles at me … He smiles to himself …

“Ah, that’s a thing of the past! I’ll lay to that! You can trust me! You will be my witness! You can tell the old lady! Ah, the poor darling! Our troubles are over now! I’ve seen the light! It’s all settled. The spirit is victimized! … They scoff at the spirit! They persecute me! They spit at me! In the heart of Paris! Good! Very well! So be it! They can all go shit in their hats! … They can rot with leprosy! They can stew in a million kettles full of snot and cockroaches … I’ll stir them myself! Let them pickle! Let them whirl in gangrene! It’s too good for the stinkers! If they ask for me, I won’t be there! … I’m through with the spirit! That’s dead and buried! … The bowels are the thing, Ferdinand! … The gastric ferments! … Faugh! … I’m going to wallow in their bowel movements … Phoo! … It’s going to be an orgy! You challenge me? Here I stand! I Courtial! Winner of the Popincourt Prize! The Nicham and all the rest! … one thousand seven hundred and twenty-two balloon flights! … What do I fire my garden with? With radishes! That’s right! I’ll show you! You too will see me! O zenith! O my Irène! O my jealous fury! … We haven’t a moment to lose! …” He pondered a while.

“In this alluvial gravel? … This sandy soil? Never! Here? Bah! I’ve proved my point! Small-scale farming! I’ve had enough of it! … No time to waste on that!” He started chortling again at the mere thought! … It was just too funny!

“My oh my! Take it away …” He swept the poor cottage off the map.

“To the country! That’s the ticket! The country, that’s for me! Open spaces? Forests? … Present! … Cattle? Udders? Hay? Poultry? If you will! … But above all, radishes! … Take my word for it! And we’ll have all the waves! … Every last one, do you hear? … Real waves! You’ll see, Ferdinand … You’ll see it all … The whole works! Orgies of waves! …”

The old girl was out on her feet. She had braced herself against the fence … She’d dozed off … I shook her so’s she’d come in too …

“I’ll make you a cup of coffee … I think there’s some left …” That’s what she said … but there was no use looking … he’d drunk it all up, the stinker! … and eaten all the leftovers … There was nothing left in the cupboard … Not even a crumb of bread! Almost a whole Camembert … While the rest of us were starving … He’d even finished off the beans in the pot … Balls! That really pissed me off …

We yelled at him to come in … “I’ve got to send a wire,” he answered from the distance … “I’ve got to send a wire …” He was out on the road already … He wasn’t crazy.

We slept all day … We were supposed to leave the day after … It was perfectly true that he’d sold the shack! With a part of the furniture thrown in! … The contractor who’d bought it had even coughed up a small advance to make us clear out quicker … he was scared shitless we’d wreck the joint before leaving …

That same day while we were eating lunch, he started pacing up and down in front of our gate. We wouldn’t let him in … We’d kicked him out several times … He should let us finish, dammit! That bastard couldn’t keep still! He was a horrible sight … He was so frantic he’d rumpled up his hat and was eating the brim … tearing out pieces … He started roaming around again, clutching his hands behind his back … Humped over and scowling. He came and went like an animal in a cage … when he had the whole road to himself! And every five minutes he’d yell in at us: “Don’t go smashing up my crapper! I’ve seen the bowl! It was in good condition! Watch out for my sink! A new one costs two hundred francs! …”

Suddenly he couldn’t stand it anymore … He came into the garden … He took three steps up the path … We all went charging down … We put him out again … He had no right! Courtial was outraged at his unspeakable impudence …

“You will take possession at six this evening and not a minute sooner … At nightfall, my dear sir, at nightfall! … That was clearly specified in our deal …” It was enough to make you lose control …

The guy went back to his rounds … He got to grumbling more and more … It was so bad we had to close the window so we could discuss our own affairs in private … How were we going to get out of there? What would be the best place to go … better than someplace else? … How much money had we? Between us, Courtial’s and mine? …

Des Pereires’ agricultural plans, his radio-terrestrial contraption were bound to cost us a pretty penny … He swore it wouldn’t be expensive … Anyway, it was a venture … We had to take his word for it … He’d already picked a place for his experiment … On the fringe of the Seine-et-Oise department … not too far from Beauvais … A splendid bargain. Still according to him … a farm they’d let us have for a song … Anyway, he’d just about settled with the agency … The rotter was wrapping us up! He’d conned us into this thing … He’d wired … He showed us an ad out of some paper,
The Echo of the Soil
. He got a kick out of watching our faces as we listened to him … The old cutie and I weren’t looking very good … “Lot for several tenants, southern exposure. Market gardening preferred but not required … Buildings in perfect repair, etc… .”

“Chin up! Chin up, dammit! What did you expect me to find? A chalet in the Bois de Boulogne? … In Bagatelle? … You should have told me … Why, this was a stroke of luck … On the Property for Sale page …” He was delighted at the prospect … He knew how to read between the lines … It was now or never …

In the course of our lunch the buyer of our cottage got noisier than ever, he clutched the gate … We really felt sorry for him with his eyes popping out of his head … slithering down over his cheeks. He’d hollered so much he couldn’t close his mouth … He was coming all over bubbles … He’d never hold out till six o’clock … His greed was something awful … “Have pity! Have pity!” he begged …

Courtial had to hurry through his cheese and run over to the telegraph office to confirm his “option.” We let our buyer in. The poor bastard was so grateful he licked the terrace steps …

Madame des Pereires and I began to pack up … to collect all the clothes, the pots and pans, the mattresses … all the stuff that hadn’t been sold … everything we were taking away with us on our venture … In addition, under cover of darkness, I was to do a little reconnoitering around the Arcades Montpensier … to see if maybe there wasn’t something I could salvage … to try and rescue our brand-new mimeograph machine … our pride and joy … and really indispensable … And the little Mirmidor oil stove … and maybe three or four gross of old pamphlets … Especially the cosmogonies on alfa paper that Courtial set so much store by … Maybe those brutes hadn’t had the time or chance to destroy everything … to wreck the whole place … Maybe a little something was left under the rubble … And the miniature altimeter … a gift from South America … Courtial would feel very badly if that couldn’t be saved … Anyway, I’d give it a try … It was all right with me … The part I didn’t like was that she wanted to come along … she didn’t quite trust me. She wanted to see for herself … In case there was something to be saved, she thought I’d better not be alone … “I’ll go too, Ferdinand! I’ll go with you!” She hadn’t seen the disaster with her own eyes … She still had some hope … Maybe she thought we were pulling a fast one …