Part 32 (1/2)

'It was just a f.u.c.king o.r.g.a.s.m o.r.g.a.s.m,' Freud said. 'Haven't you ever had had one, for Christ's sake?' Freud blundered forward with his hand on Susie's back; he struck the door a blow with his baseball bat, then fumbled for the k.n.o.b. 'Annie?' he called. I noticed Jolanta close behind Freud, like his larger shadow - her fierce hands in her dark purse. Susie made a convincing one, for Christ's sake?' Freud blundered forward with his hand on Susie's back; he struck the door a blow with his baseball bat, then fumbled for the k.n.o.b. 'Annie?' he called. I noticed Jolanta close behind Freud, like his larger shadow - her fierce hands in her dark purse. Susie made a convincing snorfle snorfle at the base of the door. at the base of the door.

'An o.r.g.a.s.m?' said the woman from New Hamps.h.i.+re - her husband automatically covered the daughter's ears.

'My G.o.d,' Franny would say later. 'They would bring their daughter to see a murder, but they wouldn't even let her hear hear about an o.r.g.a.s.m. Americans sure are strange.' about an o.r.g.a.s.m. Americans sure are strange.'

Susie the bear shouldered the door, knocking Freud off balance. The end of his Louisville Slugger skidded along the hall floor, but Jolanta caught the old man and propped him up against the doorjamb, and Susie roared into the room. Screaming Annie was naked, except for her stockings and her garter belt; she was smoking a cigarette, and she leaned over the completely unmoving man on his back on the bed and blew smoke into his face; he didn't flinch, or cough, and he was naked except for his ankle-length dark green socks.

'Dead!' gasped the woman from New Hamps.h.i.+re.

'Tod?' whispered Freud. 'Somebody tell me!'

Jolanta took her hands out of her purse and sunk a fist in the man's groin. His knees snapped up all by themselves and he coughed; then he went flat again.

'He's not dead,' Jolanta said, and muscled her way out of the room.

'He just pa.s.sed right out on me,' Screaming Annie said. She seemed surprised. But I would think, later, that there was no way you could keep both sane and conscious when you were deluded into thinking that Screaming Annie was coming. It was probably safer to pa.s.s out than to hang on and go home crazy.

'Is she a wh.o.r.e wh.o.r.e?' the husband asked, and this time it was the woman from New Hamps.h.i.+re who covered her daughter's ears; she tried to cover the girl's eyes eyes, too.

'What are you, blind blind?' Freud asked. 'Of course she's a wh.o.r.e!'

'We're all all wh.o.r.es,' Dark Inge said, coming from nowhere and hugging her mother - glad to see she was all right. 'What's wrong with that?' wh.o.r.es,' Dark Inge said, coming from nowhere and hugging her mother - glad to see she was all right. 'What's wrong with that?'

'Okay, okay,' Father said. 'Everyone back to bed!'

'These are your children children?' the New Hamps.h.i.+re woman asked Father; she wasn't sure which of us to indicate with her sweep of the hand.

'Well, some some of them are,' Father said, amiably. of them are,' Father said, amiably.

'You should be ashamed,' the woman told him. 'Exposing children to this sordid life.'

I don't think it had occurred to Father that we were being 'exposed' to anything particularly 'sordid.' Nor was the New Hamps.h.i.+re woman's tone of voice anything Father ever would have heard from my mother. But nonetheless my father seemed suddenly stricken by this accusation. Franny said later that she could see in the genuine bewilderment on his face - and then the growing look of something as close to guilt as we would ever see in him - that despite the sorrow Father's dreaming might cause us, we would always prefer him dreamy to guilty; we could accept him as being out of it out of it, but we couldn't like him as much if he were truly a worrier, if he had been truly 'responsible' in the way that fathers are expected to be responsible.

'Lilly, you shouldn't be here, darling,' Father said to Lilly, turning her away from the door.

'I should think not not,' said the husband from New Hamps.h.i.+re, now struggling to keep both his daughter's eyes and ears covered at the same time - but unable to tear himself away from the scene.

'Frank, take Lilly to her room, please,' Father said, softly. 'Franny?' Father asked, 'are you okay, dear?'

'Sure,' Franny said.

'I'm sorry, Franny,' Father said, steering her down the hall. 'For everything,' he added.

'He's sorry sorry!' said the woman from New Hamps.h.i.+re, facetiously. 'He exposes his children to such disgusting filth as this and he's sorry sorry!' But Franny turned on her. We might criticize Father, but no one else could.

'You dead c.u.n.t,' Franny said to the woman.

'Franny!' Father said.

'You useless t.w.a.t,' Franny told the woman. 'You sad wimp,' she told the man. 'I know just the man to show you what's ”disgusting,” ' she said. 'Aybha, or gajasana gajasana,' Franny said to them. 'You know what that that is?' But I knew; I could feel my hands start to sweat. 'The woman lies p.r.o.ne,' Franny said, 'and the man lies on top of her pressing his is?' But I knew; I could feel my hands start to sweat. 'The woman lies p.r.o.ne,' Franny said, 'and the man lies on top of her pressing his loins loins forward and curving the small of his back.' The woman from New Hamps.h.i.+re shut her eyes upon mention of the word 'loins'; the poor husband seemed to be trying to cover the eyes and ears of his entire family at once. 'That's the elephant position,' Franny said, and I shuddered. The 'elephant position' was one of the two main positions (with the cow position) in the forward and curving the small of his back.' The woman from New Hamps.h.i.+re shut her eyes upon mention of the word 'loins'; the poor husband seemed to be trying to cover the eyes and ears of his entire family at once. 'That's the elephant position,' Franny said, and I shuddered. The 'elephant position' was one of the two main positions (with the cow position) in the vyanta vyanta group; it was the elephant position that Ernst spoke of in the dreamiest way. I thought I was going to be sick, and Franny suddenly started to cry. Father took her down the hall, quickly - Susie the bear, worriedly but ever bear-like, went whining after them. group; it was the elephant position that Ernst spoke of in the dreamiest way. I thought I was going to be sick, and Franny suddenly started to cry. Father took her down the hall, quickly - Susie the bear, worriedly but ever bear-like, went whining after them.

The customer who'd pa.s.sed out when Screaming Annie finished the Krugerstra.s.se came to. He was awfully embarra.s.sed to find Freud, me, the New Hamps.h.i.+re family, Screaming Annie, her daughter, and Babette all looking at him. At least, I thought, he was spared the bear - and the rest of my family. Late as usual, Old Billig wandered in; she'd been asleep.

'What's going on?' she asked me.

'Didn't Screaming Annie wake you, too?' I asked her.

'Screaming Annie doesn't wake me up anymore,' Old Billig said. 'It's those d.a.m.n world planners up on the fifth floor.'

I looked at my watch. It was still before two in the morning. 'You're still asleep,' I whispered to Old Billig. 'The radicals don't come this early.'

'I'm wide-awake,' Old Billig said. 'Some of the radicals never went home last night. Sometimes they stay all night. And they're usually quiet. But Screaming Annie must have disturbed them. They dropped something. Then they were hissing like snakes, trying to pick whatever it was up.' of the radicals never went home last night. Sometimes they stay all night. And they're usually quiet. But Screaming Annie must have disturbed them. They dropped something. Then they were hissing like snakes, trying to pick whatever it was up.'

'They shouldn't be here at night night,' Freud said.

'I've seen enough of this sordidness,' the New Hamps.h.i.+re woman said, seeming to feel ignored.

'I've seen it all,' Freud said, mysteriously. 'All the sordidness,' he said. 'You get used to it.' the sordidness,' he said. 'You get used to it.'

Babette said she'd had enough for one night; she went home. Screaming Annie put Dark Inge back to bed. Screaming Annie's embarra.s.sed male companion tried to leave as inconspicuously as possible, but the New Hamps.h.i.+re family watched him all the way out of the hotel. Jolanta joined Freud and Old Billig and me at the second-floor landing. We listened up the stairwell, but the radicals - if they were there - were quiet now.

'I'm too old for the stairs,' Old Billig said, 'and too smart to poke my nose where I'm not wanted. But they're up there,' she said. 'Go see.' Then she turned back to the street - to the gentle occupation.

'I'm blind,' Freud admitted. 'It would take me half the night to climb those stairs, and I wouldn't see anything if they were were there.' there.'

'Give me your baseball bat,' I said to Freud. 'I'll go see.'

'Just take me with you,' Jolanta said. 'f.u.c.k the bat.'

'I need the bat, anyway,' Freud said. Jolanta and I said good night to him and started up the stairs.

'If there's anything to it,' Freud said, 'wake me up and tell me about it. Or tell me about it in the morning.'

Jolanta and I listened for a while on the third-floor landing, but all we could hear was the New Hamps.h.i.+re family sliding every object of furniture against their doors. The youthful Swedish couple had slept through it all - apparently used to some kind of o.r.g.a.s.m; or used to murder. The old man from Burgenland had possibly died in his room, shortly after checking in. The bicyclists from Great Britain were on the fourth floor, and probably too drunk to be aroused, I thought, but when Jolanta and I paused on the fourth-floor landing and listened for the radicals, we encountered one of the British bicyclists there.

'b.l.o.o.d.y strange,' he whispered to us.

'What is?' I said.

'Thought I heard a b.l.o.o.d.y scream,' he said. 'But it was down downstairs. Now I hear them dragging the body round up upstairs. b.l.o.o.d.y odd.'

He looked at Jolanta. 'Does the tart speak English?' he asked me.

'The tart's with me,' I said. 'Why not just go back to bed?' I was perhaps eighteen or nineteen on this night, I think; the effects of the weight lifting, I noticed, were beginning to impress people. The British bicyclist went back to bed.

'What do you think is going on?' I asked Jolanta, nodding upstairs, toward the silent fifth floor.

She shrugged; it was nowhere near Mother's shrug, or Franny's shrug, but it was a woman's shrug. She put her big hands in the deadly purse.

'What do I care what's going on?' she asked. 'They might change the world,' Jolanta said of the radicals, 'but they won't change me me.'