She was I thought quite calm Bloomsbury said. You also Huber said turning his head almost completely around. Of course she has been trained to weep in private Bloomsbury said looking out of the window. Training he thought, thats the great thing. Behind them aircraft rose and fell at intervals, he wondered if they should have waited for "the takeoff," if it would have been more respectful, or on the other hand less respectful, to have done so. Still I thought thered certainly be weeping Whittle said from the front seat. I have observed that in situations involving birth, bereavement or parting forever there is usually some quantity of weeping. But he provided a crowd Huber said, precluding privacy. And thus weeping Whittle agreed. Yes Bloomsbury said.
A BEER WINE LIQUOR ICE sign appeared by the roadside. Huber stopped the car which was a Pontiac Chieftain and entering the store purchased, for $27.00, a bottle of 98-year-old brandy sealed on the top with a wax seal. The bottle was old and dirty but the brandy when Huber returned with it was tasty in the extreme. For the celebration Huber said generously offering the bottle first to Bloomsbury who had in their view recently suffered pain and thus deserved every courtesy, insofar as possible. Bloomsbury did not overlook this great-hearted attitude on the part of his friend. Although he has many faults Bloomsbury reflected, he has many virtues also. But the faults engaged his attention and sipping the old brandy he began to review them seriously, and those of Whittle also. One fault of Hubers which Bloomsbury considered and reconsidered was that of not keeping his eye on the ball. In the matter of the road for instance Bloomsbury said to himself, any Texaco Gasoline sign is enough to distract him from his clear duty, that of operating the vehicle. And there were other faults both mortal and venial which Bloomsbury thought about just as seriously as this. Eventually his thinking was interrupted by these words of Whittles: Good old money!
We can discuss Bloomsbury said, the meaning but not the feeling. If there is emotion it is only just that you share it with your friends Whittle said. Who are no doubt all you have left in the world said Huber. Whittle had placed upon Hubers brow, which was large and red, handkerchiefs dampened in brandy, with a view toward calming him. But Huber would not be calmed. Possibly there are relatives Whittle pointed out, of one kind or another. Hardly likely Huber said, considering his circumstances, now that there is no more money I would hazard that there are no more relatives either. Emotion! Whittle exclaimed, when was the last time we had any? The war I expect Huber replied, all those chaps going West. Ill give you a hundred dollars Whittle said, for the feeling. No Bloomsbury said, I have decided not. We are fine enough to be a crowd at the airport so that your wife will not weep but not fine enough to be taken into your confidence I suppose Huber said "bitterly." Not a matter of fine enough Bloomsbury said reflecting meanwhile upon the proposition that the friends of the family were all he had left, which was he felt quite a disagreeable notion. But probably true. Good what manner of man is this! Whittle exclaimed and Huber said: Prick!
Well Whittle said how does it feel? It? Bloomsbury said, what is it?
Have ye heard the news Pelly, that Martha me wife has left me in a yareplane? on th bloody Champagne Flight? O yer wonderfulness, wot a cheeky lot to be pullin the plog on a lovely man like yerself. Well thats how the cock curls Pelly, theres naught left of er but a bottle of Drene Shampoo in th boodwar. She was a bitch that she was to commit this act of lese majesty against th sovereign person of yer mightiness. She locked erself i th john Pelly toward th last an wouldnt come out not even for Flag Day. Incredible Mishtar Bloomsbury to think that such as that coexist wi us good guls side by side in the twentieth century. An no more lovey-kindness than a stick, an no more gratitude than a glass o milk of magnesia. What bought her clothes at the Salvation Army by th look of her, on the Revolving Credit Plan. I fingerprinted her fingerpaintings she said and wallowed in sex what is more. Coo, Mishtar Bloomsbury me husbing Jack brings th telly right into th bed wi im, its bumpin me back all night long. I th bed? I th bed. Its been a weary long time Pelly since love as touched my hart. Ooo your elegance, theres not a young gul in the Western Hemisphere as could withstand the grandeur of such a swell person as you. Its marriage Pelly what has ruined me for love. Its a hard notion me Bloomie boy but tragically true nonetheless. I dont want pity Pelly theres little enough rapport between adults wiout clouding th issue wi sentiment. I couldnt agree more yer gorgeousness damme if I havent told Jack a thousand times, that rapport is the only thing.
Rich girls always look pretty Whittle said factually and Huber said: Ive heard that. Did she take the money with her? Whittle asked. Oh yes Bloomsbury said modestly (for had he not after all relinquished, at the same time he had relinquished Martha, a not inconsiderable fortune, amounting to thousands, if not more?). You could hardly have done otherwise I suppose Huber said. His eyes which fortunately remained on the road during this passage were "steely-bright." And yet. . . Whittle began. Something for your trouble Huber suggested, a tidy bit, to put in the Postal Savings. It would have gone against the grain no doubt Whittle said. But there was trouble was there not? for which little or no compensation has been offered? Outrage Bloomsbury noted stiffened Whittles neck which had always been inordinately long and thin, and stiff. The money he thought, there had been in truth a great deal. More than one person could easily dispose of. But just right as fate would have it for two.
Ah Martha coom now to bed theres a darlin gul. Hump off blatherer Ive no yet read me Mallarmé for this evenin. Ooo Martha dear canna we noo let the dear lad rest this night? when th tellys already shut doon an th man o the hoose as a ard on? Dont be comin round wit yer lewd proposals on a Tuesday night when ye know better. But Martha dear where is yer love for me that we talked about in 19 and 38? in the cemetary by the sea? Pish Mishtar Hard On yed better be lookin after the Disposal! whats got itself plogged up. Ding the Disposall! Martha me gul its yer sweet hide Im after havin. Get yer hands from out of me Playtex viper, Im dreadful bored wit yer silly old tool. But Marthy dear what of th poetry we read i th book, aboot th curlews cry an th white giants thigh, in 19 and 38? that we consecrated our union wit? That was then an this is now, ye can be runnin after that bicycle gul wi th tight pants if yer wants a bit o the auld shiver an shake. Ah Marthy its no bicycle gul thats brakin me heart but yer sweet self. Keep yer paws off me derriere dear yer makin me lose me page i th book.
Once in a movie house Bloomsbury recalled Tuesday Weld had suddenly turned on the screen, looked him full in the face, and said: You are a good man. You are good, good, good. He had immediately gotten up and walked out of the theater, gratification singing in his heart. But that situation dear to him as it was helped him not a bit in this situation. And that memory memorable as it was did not prevent the friends of the family from stopping the car under a tree, and beating Bloomsbury in the face first with the brandy bottle, then with the tire iron, until at length the hidden feeling emerged, in the form of salt from his eyes and black blood from his ears, and from his mouth, all sorts of words.
Although customarily of a lively and even ribald disposition the friends of the family nevertheless maintained during these thoughts of Bloomsburysattitudes of the most rigorous and complete solemnity, as were of course appropriate. However Whittle at length said: I remember from my own experience that the pain of parting was shall I say exquisite? Exquisite Huber said, what a stupid word. How would you know? Whittle asked, youve never been married. I may not know about marriage Huber said stoutly, but I know about words. Exquisite he pronounced giggling. You have no delicacy Whittle said, that is clear. Delicacy Huber said, you get better and better. He began weaving the car left and right on the highway, in delight. The brandy Whittle said, has been too much for you. Crud Huber said assuming a reliable look. Youve suffered an insult to the brain Whittle said, better let me drive. You drive! Huber exclaimed, your ugly old wife Eleanor left you precisely because you were a mechanical idiot, she confided in me on the day of the hearing. A mechanical idiot! Whittle said in surprise, I wonder what she meant by that? Huber and Whittle then struggled for the wheel for a brief space but in a friendly way. The Pontiac Chieftain behaved very poorly during this struggle, zigging and zagging, but Bloomsbury who was preoccupied did not notice. It was interesting he thought that after so many years one could still be surprised by a flyaway wife. Surprise he thought, thats the great thing, it keeps the old tissues tense.
Its idiotic Huber said, that we know nothing more of the circumstances surrounding the extinguishment of your union than you have chosen to tell us. What do you want to know? Bloomsbury asked, aware however that they would want everything. It would be interesting I think as well as instructive Whittle said casually, to know for instance at what point the situation of living together became untenable, whether she wept when you told her, whether you wept when she told you, whether you were the instigator or she was the instigator, whether there were physical fights involving bodily blows or merely objects thrown on your part and on her part, if there were mental cruelties, cruelties of what order and on whose part, whether she had a lover or did not have a lover, whether you did or did not, whether you kept the television or she kept the television, the disposition of the balance of the furnishings including tableware, linens, light bulbs, beds and baskets, who got the baby if there was a baby, what food remains in the pantry at this time, what happened to the medicine bottles including Mercurochrome, rubbing alcohol, aspirin, celery tonic, milk of magnesia, No-Doze and Nembutal, was it a fun divorce or not a fun divorce, whether she paid the lawyers or you paid the lawyers, what the judge said if there was a judge, whether you asked her for a "date" after the granting of the decree or did not so ask, whether she was touched or not touched by this gesture if there was such a gesture, whether the date if there was such a date was a fun thing or not a fun thing -- in short wed like to get the feel of the event he said. Wed be pepped to know, Huber said. I remember how it was when my old wife Eleanor flew away Whittle said, but only dimly because of the years. Bloomsbury however was thinking.
Ah Pelly where do you be goin? T grandmathers, bein it please yer lardship. An what a fine young soft young warm young thing ya have there Pelly on yer bicycle seat. Ooo yer lardship yeve an evil head on yer, Ill bet yer sez that tall us guls. Naw Pelly an the truth of the matter is, theres nivver a gul come down my street wi such a fine one as yers. Yer a bold one yer worship if ye doon cock a minnow. Lemme just feel of her a trifle Pelly, theres a good gul. Ooo Mishtar Bloomsbury I likes a bit o fun as good as the next un but me husbings watchin from the porch wi is field telescope. Pother Pelly it wont be leavin any marks, well just slither behind this tree. Ring me bicycle bell yer lardship hell think yer after sellin the Eskimo Pies. That I will Pelly Ill give er a ring like she nivver had before. Ooo yer grace be keerful of me abdominal belt whats holdin up me pedal pushers. Never fear Pelly I dealt wi worse than that in my time I have.
The physical separation mentioned earlier Whittle said. We want to know how it feels. The question is not what is the feeling but what is the meaning? Bloomsbury said reasonably. Christ Huber said, Ill tell you about my affair. What about it? Bloomsbury asked. It was a Red Cross girl Huber said, named Buck Rogers. Of what did it consist? Whittle asked. It consisted Huber said, of going to the top of the Chrysler Building and looking out over the city. Not much meat there Whittle said disparagingly, how did it end? Badly Huber said. Did she jump? Whittle asked. I jumped Huber said. You were always a jumper Whittle said. Yes Huber said angrily, I had taken precautions. Did your chute open? Whittle asked. With a sound like timber falling Huber said, but she never knew. The end of the affair Whittle said sadly. But what a wonderful view of the city Huber commented. So now, Whittle said to Bloomsbury, give us the feeling.
Of course its inaccurate to say that we are friends of the family Huber said. There no longer being any family. The family exists still I believe Whittle said, as a legal entity. Were you married? it would affect the legal question, whether or not the family qua family endures beyond the physical separation of the partners, which we have just witnessed. Bloomsbury understood that Whittle did not wish to be thought prying and understood also, or recalled rather, that Whittles wife or former wife had flown away in an aircraft very similar toif not identical with the one in which Martha his own wife had elected to fly away. But as he considered the question a tiresome one, holding little interest in view of the physical separation already alluded to, which now aimed his attention to the exclusion of all other claims, he decided not to answer. Instead he said: She looked I thought quite pretty. Lovely Whittle acknowledged and Huber said: Stunning in fact.
It would have been wrong Bloomsbury said austerely, to have kept it. Cows flew by the windows in both directions. That during the years of our cohabitation it had been our money to cultivate and be proud of does not alter the fact that originally it was her money rather than my money he finished. You could have bought a boat Whittle said, or a horse or a house. Presents for your friends who have sustained you in the accomplishment of this difficult and if I may say so rather unpleasant task Huber added pushing the accelerator pedal to the floor so that the vehicle "leaped ahead." While these things were being said Bloomsbury occupied himself by thinking of one of his favorite expressions, which was: Everything will be revealed at the proper time. He remembered too the several occasions on which Huber and Whittle had dined at his house. They had admired he recalled not only the tuck but also the wife of the house whose aspect both frontside and backside was scrutinized and commented upon by them. To the point that the whole enterprise (friendship) had become, for him, quite insupportable, and defeating. Huber had in one instance even reached out his hand to touch it, when it was near, and bent over, and sticking out, and Bloomsbury as host had been forced, by the logic of the situation, to rap his wrist with a soup spoon. Golden days Bloomsbury thought, in the sunshine of our happy youth.
On the trip back from the aerodrome Huber who was driving said: Still I dont see why we were required. You werent required Bloomsbury said explicitly, you were invited. Invited then Huber said, I dont see what we were invited for. As friends of the family Bloomsbury said. You are both friends of the family. A tissue of truths he thought, delicate as the negotiations leading to the surrender. It was not enough Bloomsbury felt, to say that his friends Huber and Whittle were as men not what he wished them to be. For it was very possible he was aware, that he was not what they wished him to be. Nevertheless there were times when he felt like crying aloud, that it was not right!
