«That isn't hard to do, my wonderful Rebecca.
Especially since we're alone. It's a long story—are you sure you'd like to hear it?»
She was laughing again.
«Jesus, you've got a dirty laugh,» I said. «Well anyway, where was I? Oh yes,
«I thought as much,» said Rebecca.
«But wait, that isn't all. There was another woman besides...»
«You mean after you slept with your wife—or before?»
«At the same time,» I said, grinning amiably.
«No, no! don't tell me that!» She dropped the carving knife and stood with arms akimbo looking at me searchingly. «I don't know... with you anything's possible. Wait a minute. Wait till I set the table. I want to hear the whole thing, from beginning to end.»
«You haven't got a little schnapps, have you?» I said.
«I've got some red wine... that'll have to do you.»
«Good, good! Of course it'll do. Where is it?»
As I was uncorking the bottle she came over to me and grasped me by the arm. «Look, tell me the truth,» she said. «I won't give you away.»
«But I'm telling you the truth!»
«All right, hold it, then. Wait till we sit down-Do you like cauliflower? I haven't any other vegetable.»
«I like any kind of food. I like everything. I like you, I like Mona, I like my wife, I like horses, cows, chickens, pinochle, tapioca, Bach, benzine, prickly heat...»
«I do too. I love food, wine, women. Of course I do. What makes you think I don't? If you like, you love. Love is only the superlative degree. I love like God loves—without distinction of time, place, race, color, sex and so forth. I love you too—that way. It's not enough, I suppose?»
«It's too much, you mean. You're out of focus. Listen, calm down a moment. Carve the meat, will you? I'll fix the gravy.»
«Gravy.... ooh, ooh. I
«Like you love your wife and me and Mona, is that it?»
«Here's the gravy. Don't get off the track. You were going to tell me about your wife.»
«Sure, sure I will. I'll tell you that too. I'll tell you everything. First of all, I want to tell you how beautiful you look—with the gravy in your hand.»
«If you don't stop this,» she said, «I'll put a knife in you. What's come over you, anyway? Does your wife have such an effect upon you every time you see her? You must have had a wonderful time.» She sat down, not opposite me, but to one side.
«Yes, I did have a wonderful time,» I said. «And then just now there was the Egyptologist...»
«Oh, drat the Egyptologist! I want to hear about your wife...
I busied myself for a while with the pork and the cauliflower. Took a few swigs of wine to wash it down. A succulent repast. I was feeling mellow as could” be. I needed replenishment.
«It's like this.» I began, after I had packed away a few forkfuls.
She began to titter.
«What's the matter? What did I say now?»
It isn't what you say, it's the way you say it. You seem so serene and detached, so innocent like. God, yes, that's it—
«Of course... why not? Why shouldn't I? Is that so terribly strange?»
«No-o-h,» she drawled, «I suppose it isn't... or it shouldn't be, anyway. But you make everything sound a little crazy sometimes. You're always a little wide of the mark... too big a swoop. You ought to have been born in Russia!»
«Yeah, Russia! That's it. I love Russia!»
«And you love the pork and the cauliflower—and the gravy
I gobbled down a juicy bit of fatty pork dipped in gravy and looked at her. «Well, for one thing, I don't like work.» I paused a minute to think what else I didn't like. «Oh yes,» I said, meaning it utterly seriously,
She burst out laughing. «Work and flies—so that's it. I must remember that. God, is that all you don't like?»
«For the moment that's all I can think of.»
«And what about crime, injustice, tyranny and those things?»
«Well, what about them?» I said. «What can you do about such things? You might just as well ask me—what about the weather?»
«Do you mean that?»
«Of course I do.»
«You're impossible! Or maybe you can't think when you eat.»
«That's a fact,» I said. «I don't think very well when I eat, do you? I don't want to, as a matter of fact. Anyway, I was never much of a thinker. Thinking doesn't get you anywhere anyhow. It's a delusion. Thinking makes you morbid... By the way, have you any dessert... any of that Liederkranz? That's a wonderful cheese, don't you think?»
«I suppose it does sound funny,» I continued, «to hear some one say 'I love it, it's wonderful, it's good, it's great,' meaning everything. Of course I don't feel that way every day—but I'd like to. And I do when I'm normal, when I'm myself. Everybody does, if given a chance. It's the natural state of the heart. The trouble is, we're terrorized most of the time. I say 'we're terrorized,' but I mean we terrorize ourselves. Last night, for instance. You can't imagine how extraordinary it was. Nothing external created it—unless it was the lightning. Suddenly everything was different—and yet it was the same house, the same atmosphere, the same wife, the same bed. It was as though the pressure had suddenly been removed—I mean that psychic pressure, that incomprehensible wet blanket which smothers us from the time we're born... You said something about tyranny, injustice, and so on. Of course I know what you mean. I used to occupy myself with those problems when I was younger—when I was fifteen or sixteen. I understood everything then, very clearly... that is, as far as the mind permits one to understand things. I was more pure, more disinterested, so to speak. I didn't have to defend or uphold anything, least of all a system which I never did believe in, not even as a child. I worked out an ideal universe, all on my own. It was very simple: no money, no property, no laws, no police, no government, no soldiers, no executioners, no prisons, no schools. I eliminated every disturbing and restraining element. Perfect freedom. It was a vacuum—and in it I exploded.
What I really wanted, you see, was that every one should behave as I behaved, or thought I would behave. I wanted a world made in my own image, a world that would breathe my spirit. I made myself God, since there was nothing to hinder me..,»
I paused for breath. I noticed that she was listening with the utmost seriousness.
«Should I go on? You've probably heard this sort of thing a thousand times.»
«Do go on,» she said softly, placing a hand on my arm. «I'm beginning to see another you. I like you better in this vein.»
«Didn't you forget the cheese? By the way, the wine isn't bad at all. A little sharp, maybe, but not bad.»
«Listen, Henry, eat, drink, smoke, do anything you want, as much as you want. I'll give you everything we have in the house. But don't stop talking now...
