Part 11 (2/2)
”OK,” said Norval, ”we get the-”
”'... like an idle race car,' '... like an asterisk for a missing footnote,' '... like birds entering the mouths of crocodiles and cleaning their teeth,' et cetera, et cetera. I've got them all on floppies, in alphabetical order. I just have to find the bits that go before.”
So far, Noel had not understood everything. Not only because of his aural visions, but because Samira's presence made him dumbstruck, his lips numb and stuck. Whenever her eyes-those midnight eyes of the East!-gleamed into his he could feel his legs soften and melt like a cheap candle. Inside he was a mess too, his ears taking pictures his mind couldn't develop. He mimed attention.
”But you know what? The book flopping was the best thing that ever happened to me. Because I know now that I'm no writer. But I had to give it a shot, you know what I mean? I still do it as a hobby. But now I've found something I really enjoy. That I'm good at. And can make money at.”
”I'm afraid to ask,” said Norval, ”what that might be.”
”CAM.”
”Right.”
”But I seem to be fielding all the questions!” said JJ. ”What are you you guys up to these days? Who wants to start? Put up your hand.” guys up to these days? Who wants to start? Put up your hand.”
”Norval,” said Samira, ”why don't you tell JJ about your latest project. Your performance art.”
”Why don't you you?” said Norval.
”All right. Norval has set himself the challenge, the considerable artistic challenge, of making love to twenty-six women in twenty-six weeks. In alphabetical order.”
”Get out of town!” said JJ. ”You scurvy knave! Hey, I might be able to get you a condom sponsor. How far have you got? On target?”
”Ahead of schedule, actually,” said Norval. ”I started in the middle of last semester, so I just went through my student lists.”
JJ nodded. ”But isn't that against ... regulations? And ethics?”
”That's the point. The guiding theme of French Symbolism is that objectivity, particularly in morals, is a sham. Morality is devised by human beings with no ground or sanction in reason or nature.”
”But aren't morals there to prevent people from hurting each other, hurting themselves, or to prevent us from falling-”
”No one was ever hurt by a fall-it's the halt at the end that does all the damage. In fact, since the invention of sky-diving and bungee and BASE-jumping, free-falling has become a sport, a kind of suicide practice, where you can savour the aesthetics of descent. Metaphorically, that's what I'm doing.”
JJ scratched his head. ”I guess that makes sense. Don't get me wrong. I'd love to take on the alphabet project myself, but it'd take me a bit longer than twenty-six weeks. In fact, unless I paid for it, I don't think twentysix years would be enough. I've never been much of a horndog, a babe magnet. But isn't anyone, you know, protesting? Isn't the word getting around?”
”Yeah, some a.s.shole informed the Head of Women's Studies.”25 ”Oh dear. But ... why alphabetical? Why so many?”
”Because,” said Samira, ”it's worth twenty-six grand. And because he's like one of those characters in Greek mythology-half goat.”
”The alphabetical order allows me to explain to my collaborators,” said Norval, ”after they fall in love or clamour for an encore, that it was a limited run, a one-night-only performance. It gets me off the hook, in other words.”
”And because of his s.e.x addiction,” said Samira, ”Sir Thunderpants would be doing this kind of thing anyway. Might as well get paid for it.”26 ”You're a s.e.x addict?” asked JJ, staring at Norval with his eyes grown big.
”It started out recreational, ended habitual.”
JJ let out a yodel-like guffaw. ”Lots of fish in the sea, eh? Can't settle on one?”
Norval took another gulp of wine. ”Are you familiar with Baudelaire's flaneur flaneur?”
”Uh, no, not really.”
”It's someone who wanders through the city seeking deliverance from the miseries of the self-first through drink, then s.e.xual depravity-in search of an elusive ideal: perfect love. But because people are not naturally loving and monogamous, but essentially self-seeking and unfaithful, this quest will never be ... successful. So he goes from woman to woman, affair to affair, ever questing, never finding.”
How brilliantly phrased, thought JJ. A true poet. ”So you're a man with a mission.” He gazed at Norval humbly, reverentially, as though he were his manservant or page.
”More like a dog with an erection than a man with a mission,” said Samira. ”I've never heard such bulls.h.i.+t.”
”All right,” said Norval, ”here's another explanation. There are two pleasures in life: food and fornication. In that order. All the rest is rat-a.s.s futility.”
”What are you going to do with the money?” asked JJ. ”Buy food?”
”None of your business.”
”I respect that,” said JJ.
Noel lifted his nose from a bookmarked page of The Count of Monte Cristo The Count of Monte Cristo. ”He's giving it to the WWF,” he said quietly, prodded by Norval's rudeness to betray a secret. The three turned to look at him. Glower, in Norval's case.
”He's giving twenty-six g's,” said JJ, scratching his head, ”to the World Wrestling Federation World Wrestling Federation?”
Noel squatted, returned the book to the shelf. ”No, the World Wildlife Fund.”
”All right!” JJ exclaimed. ”Nor, you da man! Yeah, baby!”
”It was either that,” said Norval, ”or the Canadian Centre for Misanthropy.”
JJ blew loudly through his mouth, his cheeks full like a gopher's. ”So how far have you got? What letter are you on?”
Norval paused before answering, slowly extracting an Arrow cigarette from its sheath. Noel held his breath, braced himself for the answer. But seconds ticked away and no answer came. A hissing sound broke the silence as the red phosphorus of a match ignited, a safety match that must have been JJ's.
”I think you said you were on S S,” Samira said finally. ”Did you not?”
Norval regarded her coldly, blew smoke in her direction. ”Yes, S S is next.” is next.”
[image]
JJ waited thirty minutes for other guests to arrive-none did-before announcing the name of his new club: The Alchemical Poets of Persia Society.
”I just made that up now,” said JJ. ”On the spot. I was going to call it 'The Alchemical Troubadours,' but then I found out Sam was from Persia. Plus troubadours are men, aren't they?” Here JJ paused to click keys on a computer. ”And here's how we're going to fund our new club. Check it out, it's on the screen now!”
[image]
”I know the founder and CEO of the company!” said JJ. ”Personally!”
”You know the founder and CEO,” said Norval. ”Personally.”
”Yes! He's an old school buddy!”
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