The Dead Father

19

Nine o’clock?

Ten o’clock.

I have to have bed check for the men at ten o’clock. What about eleven o’clock?

I think I can make eleven o’clock. Let me look in my book.

She looked in her book.

Eleven o’clock, then, she said, writing a note in her book. Under the trees?

Under the stars, said Thomas.

The trees, said Julie, looks like rain.

If no rain, then the stars, said Thomas. If rain, then the trees.

Or the hedge, said Julie. Wet and dripping. Mulchy.

What are you arranging? asked the Dead Father. Could it be an assignation?

Nothing, said Julie. Nothing you should concern yourself about, dear old soul.

The Dead Father flang himself to the ground.

But I should have everything! Me! I! Myself! I am the Father! Mine! Always was and always will be! From whom all blessings flow! To whom all blessings flow! Forever and ever and ever and ever! Amen! Beatissime Pater!

He is chewing the earth again, Julie observed. One would think he would tire of it.

Thornas began singing, in a good voice.

The Dead Father stopped chewing the earth.

That is one I like, he said, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his golden robe.

For thine, Thomas sang, in a good voice, is the kingdom, and the power, and the glo-ree, for-EVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVWVVVVVVVV-er…

That is one I like, said the Dead Father, I have always liked that one.

Thomas stopped singing.

By the way, he said, let me have your passport.

Why? asked the Dead Father.

I’ll take care of it for you.

I can take care of my own passport.

Many people lose or carelessly misplace their passports, Thomas said. I’ll take care of it for you.

Very kind of you but not necessary.

A lost or misplaced passport is a very serious matter. Many people are extremely careless with their passports especially older people.

I’ve always been very careful with my passport.

Especially older people who are sometimes vague or forgetful, a concomitant of advancing age.

Are you suggesting I’m becoming senile?

Ghastly look of the Dead Father.

Oh no, said Thomas. Not senile. Not for a moment. I just thought it might be better if I took care of your passport. We are crossing frontiers and all that. Let me have your passport.

No, said the Dead Father. I will not.

I knew an old person once who lost or misplaced his passport, said Thomas. Stopped by the border police, at a certain border, he could not find or locate his passport. There he was at the border station, frantic, digging through his suitcases, patting himself on the chest, turning out his pockets, and then back into the baggage. The amused tolerance of the border guards turning into impatience, others waiting behind him in line, assorted loafers and jeerers loafing and jeering. Not to mention members of his own party nervously drumming fingertips on every available surface. The entire group was forced to turn back and return to point of origin, all because this old coot had thought himself able to take care of his own passport.

The Dead Father reached inside his cloak and produced a worn green passport.

Thank you, said Thomas. You see? It’s bent.

Inspection of passport in which sundry creases were seeable.

Only a little bent, said the Dead Father.

The individual’s passport is the property strictly speaking of the governing government and therefore should not be bent, even a little. A bent passport makes suspect the competence of the passport holder.

I don’t like this, said the Dead Father.

What? asked Julie. What, dear old man, don’t you like?

You are killing me.

We? Not we. Not in any sense we. Processes are killing you, not we. Inexorable processes.

Inexorable inapplicable in my case, said the Dead Father. Hopefully.

“Hopefully” cannot be used in that way, grammatically, said Thomas.

You are safe, dear old man, you are safe, temporarily, in the mansuetude of our care, Julie said.

The what?

The mansuetude that is to say mild gentleness of our care.

I am surrounded by creepy murderous pedants! the Dead Father shouted. Unbearable!

Thomas handed the Dead Father the pornographic comic book.

Now now, he said, no outbursts. Read this. It will keep you occupied.

I don’t want to be kept occupied, said the Dead Father. Children are kept occupied. I want to participate!

Not possible, said Thomas. Thank God for the pornographic comic book. Sit there and read it. Sit there with your back against that rock. Thank the Lord for what is given to you. Others have less. Here is a knapsack to place between your back and the rock. Here is a flashlight to read the pornographic comic book by. Edmund will bring your Ovaltine at ten. Count your blessings.

The trees. The stars. Each tree behaving well, each star behaving well. Perfume of nightscent.

Thomas lying on his back, cruciform.

Julie prowling the edges.

Julie kisses inside of Thomas’s left leg.

Thomas remains in Position A.

Julie kisses Thomas on the mouth.

Thomas remains in Position A.

Julie back on her haunches with a hand between her legs.

Thomas watching Julie’s hand.

Glistening in the hair between Julie’s legs.

Slight movement of Julie’s stomach.

Thomas watching Julie’s hand (neck craned to see).

Julie kissing underside of Thomas’s dipstick.

Cockalorum standing almost straight up but a bit of wavering.

Julie licks.

Pleasure of Thomas. Movement of Thomas’s hips.

Julie lights cigarette. Thomas remains in Position A. Julie smokes looking at Thomas.

Julie smokes with one hand (second finger) moving up and down between her legs.

Various movements on Thomas’s part. Trying to see. Julie smokes. Offers cigarette to Thomas.

Thomas raises head, takes cigarette between lips. Two puffs.

Julie removes cigarette. Hand between legs.

Julie smokes looking at Thomas.

Thomas remains in Position A, as per the agreement.

Julie’s hand moving up and down between her legs.

Thomas staring at Julie’s hand.

Various movements on Thomas’s part — lurches, mostly.

One of Julie’s legs in the air.

Julie remaining just out of Thomas’s reach. Thomas cruciform, as per the agreement.

Thomas’s mowdiwort at 90 degree angle (roughly) to Thomas.

Julie sucks.

Thomas scratches nose with left hand, violating the agreement.

Julie’s breasts dipping this way and that, as she sucks.

Thomas stares at breasts, straining and craning.

Julie stands and moves second finger between legs, gazing at Thomas.

Thomas makes sucking sounds.

Julie kneels astride Thomas’s right leg, and rubs. Again and again and again.

Julie offers fingertips to Thomas, who licks.

Julie attends to Thomas’s gadso, which is at a 90 degree angle (roughly) to Thomas.

Julie lies on one elbow twelve inches from Thomas and sips a whiskey. Hand between her legs.

Thomas staring at her hand, at her buttocks, stomach muscles.

In-and-out of Julie’s stomach muscles. Hand between legs, eyes closed.

Thomas remains in Position A. One of Julie’s legs waving in the air.

Julie stands and then squats. Presenting greens to Thomas’s cabbage tree.

Takes cabbage tree in hand. Use of cabbage tree as dildo.

Thomas staring at Julie’s face.

Thomas remains in Position A, so as not to violate the agreement.

Julie attends to Thomas’s bag-of-tricks for a long time.

Julie turns arsy-versy all cockalorum-kissing.

Thomas licks what there is to lick.

Happiness of Thomas. Happiness of Julie.

Movement of Julie’s buttocks, to the right, to the left, and so on.

A short aria of three notes.

And so on and so on and so on and so on.

What time is it? asked Julie.

Almost one, said Thomas.

How much further?

Almost there, Thomas said. A day’s journey, perhaps. Twenty-four hours at most. Julie began to cry.