"Betty Blue" - читать интересную книгу автора (Djian Philippe)

17

The day I took matters into my own hands was the day we sold our first piano. It started early in the morning, with a meticulous cleaning of the showroom window, scratching off every last spot with my fingernail, balancing high atop my stepladder. Betty teased me from the sidewalk, drinking her coffee, her cup a deep crater, silver-plated and steaming. You’ll see, I told her, you’ll be taking it all back soon.

I made a quick trip to Bob’s store-Bob was the albino grocery man. Actually I’m exaggerating-he wasn’t really albino, but blond like I’d never seen. There were two or three women in there, standing in front of the shelves, contemplating the void. Bob piled eggs behind the register.

“Hey, Bob, you got a minute?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“Bob, could you give me a little of that white stuff-you know, the stuff you wrote ‘All Creamed Cheese Must Go’ on your window there with?”

I went back with a little container and a paintbrush. I climbed up my ladder. Across the whole width of the window on top I wrote “PIANO PRICE SLASH!!” I stepped back to see what it looked like. It was a beautiful morning. The store looked like a glint of sunlight on a burbling stream. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that a few passersby were slowing down on the sidewalk to get a better look. Rule number ONE of sales: let them know you’re there. Rule number TWO: shout it loud and clear.

I went up to the window. Under it I wrote “NEVER BEFORE OFFERED!!!” Betty seemed to get off on that one. From time to time she’d laugh at anything. She put in her two cents, writing “MUCHO BIG DEALOS” across the door.

“Go ahead and laugh,” I said.

I spent the whole morning in the store with a can of spray wax and a cloth, polishing each piano down to its toenails-I might as well have given them all a bath.

By the time Betty called me for lunch, I was done. I took a circular glance around the store-each and every one of them gleamed in the lights. I knew I had a great team. I went halfway up the stairs, then came back down. I held my hand out to all of the pianos.

“I’m counting on you, fellas,” I said. “Don’t let that girl have the last laugh.”

I tried to maintain an enigmatic smile while ingesting the squid croquettes in hot sauce. Girls go crazy for that.

“Listen, that would really be too unbelievable,” she said. “Why today, especially…?”

“Why? Because I’ve set my mind to it, that’s why.”

She touched my knee under the table.

“You know, I’m not saying that to discourage you. It’s just that I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Ha,” I said.

As a writer, I had not yet attained glory. As a piano salesman, I wanted to try to even the balance. I was betting on the idea that life cannot break all your momentum at once.

“Anyway, we’re not hard up, you know,” she added. “We have easily enough to hold us till the end of the month.”

“I know, but I’m not doing it for the money. I’m doing it to test a theory.”

“Gee! Look how blue the sky is! We’d be better off going for a drive…”

“No,” I said. “We’ve been taking drives for five or six days now, I’m sick of the car. No, today the store is open for business. I’m not budging from the cash register!”

“All right, whatever you say. I don’t know, maybe I’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll see…”

“Go ahead. Don’t worry about me. The sun shines only for you, baby…”

She put some sugar in my coffee and stirred it, smiling, her eyes on me. They were incredibly deep sometimes. Sometimes, with her around, I soared among the clouds-just like that, knocked for a loop, blinded by the light.

“Don’t we have any cookies or something-some rose-petal jelly maybe?” I asked.

She laughed.

“What, can’t I even look at you?”

“Yeah, you can. It just gives me a hell of a sweet tooth, that`s all.”

At two o’clock sharp I went to open the store. I took a look out on the street-to get the lay of the land. Perfect. It I was going to buy a piano, this would be the day. I went and sat down in a dark corner in the back of the store, still and silent like a hungry tarantula, my eyes fixed on the door.

Time passed. I scribbled something in the receipt book. I broke the pencil in half. I went out on the sidewalk a few times to see what was happening. All I got was discouraged. Nothing. It was dead. My ashtray was full-you sure can smoke a lot of cigarettes in this life, I thought, and you sure can get bored. It’s enough to make you run off with the circus. I didn’t like the feeling-like being stabbed in the back in broad daylight. Was it really such a wild flight of fancy for a piano salesman to hope to sell a piano? Was it too much to ask? Was it a sin of pride to want to move the merchandise? What is a piano salesman who doesn’t sell pianos, after all? Anguish and absurdity are the nipples of the world-I said it out loud, joking.

“How’s that?”

I turned around. It was Betty. I hadn’t heard her come in.

“Ready to go? You going to take a walk…?” I asked.

“]ust a little one. It’s still nice out. You talking to yourself, now?”

“No, just screwing around. Listen, would you watch the store five minutes for me? I want to get some cigarettes. It’ll get me out a little bit…”

“Sure.”

Things being what they were, I didn’t deny myself a double shot of whiskey and Coke, while waiting for the lady to shuffle through the cupboard, looking for a carton of filtered cigarettes. She stood back up, her face flushed and her bun crooked. I handed her a bill.

“How’s the piano business?” she said.

I didn’t have the heart to take a cheap shot.

“Could be better,” I said.

“Yes, well, you know, everybody’s scrambling these days.”

“Yeah?” I said.

“Yes. Times are tough all around…”

“Could I have a piece of pie, to go, please?”

While she went to get it, I picked up the bill which was sitting on the counter and put it back in my pocket. She wrapped some wax paper around my pie and put it down in front of me.

“That be all?” she asked.

“Yes, thanks.”

It was worth a try. Sometimes it works. It’s sort of a free lottery. It can get your spirits back up. The lady hesitated for a fraction of a second. I smiled at her like an angel.

“Not too much silver,” I said. “My change, I mean. My wife is tired of my complaining about the holes in my pockets…”

She laughed a little, nervously, then opened the drawer of her cash register. She gave me the change.

“Sometimes I think I’m losing my marbles,” she said.

“It happens to everyone,” I said.

I was in no hurry to get back to the store. A little piece of baked apple was hanging out of the wax paper, like a teardrop. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. I zupped it. Paradise comes cheap here on earth, luckily-it keeps things in their proper perspective. What is it really that measures a man? Surely not breaking one’s ass to sell a few pianos-that would be sheer folly; it certainly isn’t worth ruining one’s life over. A tender corner of apple pie, soft as a spring morn-that’s something else. I realized that I’d taken this piano thing too seriously-I’d lost my head over it. It’s hard to stave off madness, though-you have to watch out every minute.

I started back, thinking of all this. I swore to myself that even if I sold nothing all day, I wouldn’t let it get to me. I’d zen it out. Still, a sale or two wouldn’t be bad. I told myself this as I walked through the door. Betty was smiling behind the cash register, fanning herself with a piece of paper.

“Taste this apple pie,” I said.

Talk about a smile-her face might have been polished with ammonia. It was like I’d just asked for her hand in marriage.

“You know,” I went on. “Let’s not delude ourselves. They say business is bad all over these days. I wouldn’t be surprised if I don’t sell anything today. I’m a victim of the global economy.”

“Haha,” she said.

“I personally don’t see anything to laugh about. But then again I’m more pragmatic…”

I was intrigued by the way she was fanning herself with the paper. It was winter after all, and despite the blue sky it was not particularly warm. The air seemed charged. Suddenly I froze-I blanched, as if I’d just stepped on a nail.

“It’s impossible!” I said.

“No, it isn’t.”

“Shit, no. It’s impossible-I left you here for ten minutes…”

“Yes, well, it was plenty of time. You want to see the order form?”

She held out the form-the one I couldn’t keep my eyes off of. I was floored. I slapped the receipt with the back of my hand.

“My God, why wasn’t it me who sold this? You want to tell me why it wasn’t…”

She came and took my arm, her head on my shoulder.

“It was you who sold it. It was thanks to you…”

“Yeah, right. Still…”

I looked around to see if some mischievous spirit wasn’t giggling behind a piano. Life tries to rattle you every chance it gets. I gave it my compliments-l saluted it for its skill at dealing out low blows. I breathed in Betty’s hair. Yes, I too knew how to cheat. I wasn’t going to be beaten so easily. I bit into the apple pie, and the miracle was accomplished-the storm went away, growling far behind me. I found myself standing before a calm sea.

“If you ask me, this calls for a celebration,” I said. “What would you like more than anything?”

“To go eat Chinese.”

“Chinese it is!”

I closed the store with no regrets. It was still a bit early, but why push your luck? One piano-I’d happily settle for that. We went off walking up the street-the sunny side-while she told me about her sale. I pretended to be interested. To be honest, it bugged me a little. I didn’t listen very closely to what she was saying; I was thinking more about the shrimp toasts I was going to scarf down. The girl bouncing around next to me reminded me of a school of glowing little fish.

We were walking past Bob’s place when he came running out, his eyes wild.

“Buenos días, Bob,” I said.

His Adam’s apple was sticking out like a gigantic knuckle. It made you want to push him back into the store.

“My God! Archie’s locked himself in the bathroom! He can’t get out! What a jerk that kid is. I’m going to try to get in through the window! My God, it’s high!”

“You saying Archie locked himself in the bathroom?” I said.

“Yeah. Annie’s been trying to talk to him through the door for ten minutes, but he doesn’t answer-he just blubbers. You can hear the faucet running, too. Shit, there I was, peacefully watching TV-why do people have children…?”

I ran behind him into the yard next to the house. Betty went up into the apartment. There was a big ladder lying in the grass. I helped him prop it up against the side of the house. The sky was bright. After a brief hesitation, Bob grabbed the sides of the ladder and climbed two rungs, then stopped.

“I can’t,” he whined. “I swear I can’t. This makes me sick…”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What do you think? I’m dizzy. What can I do? It’s like being up on a scaffold.”

I wasn’t especially acrobatic, but the second floor of a building didn’t scare me much.

“All right, come down,” I said.

He wiped his brow while I climbed up to the window. I saw Archie. The faucets were open full blast. I turned to Bob.

“I don’t see many alternatives,” I said.

He made a discouraged gesture below.

“Yeah, I know. Go ahead, break the goddamn windowpane.”

I smashed it with my elbow, opened the latch, and jumped inside. I was proud of myself-I’d compensated for the day, in extremis. I winked at Archie and closed the faucets. Snot was streaming down his chin.

“Have nice pIaytime?” I asked.

The sink was clogged and overflowing everywhere. I fixed that, then opened the door. There was Annie with the baby in her arms. Annie wasn’t bad. Her mouth was a bit floppy and she had a wild glow in her eyes-the type to avoid.

“Hiya,” I said. “Watch out for the broken glass.”

“Oh, for the love of Mike! Archibald, what’s got into you?”

Just then Bob showed up, out of breath. He looked at the puddles of water on the floor, then looked up at me.

“You can’t imagine all the stunts a three-year-old pulls. Yesterday he tried to close himself in the refrigerator.”

The baby started crying, twisting his little purple face into an abominable grimace.

“Oh darn, it’s time already,” sighed Annie.

She turned around and started undoing her buttons.

“Great, and now who’s going to wipe up this mess? Me, that’s who. I spend all day cleaning up after that little monster.”

Archie looked at his feet. He tapped them in the water. He couldn’t have cared less about what his father was saying. Betty took him by the hand.

“Come on, we’re going to read a book, you and me.”

She took Archie into his room. Bob told me to go make some drinks-he’d only be a minute. I went into the kitchen. Annie was sitting there, her nipple jammed in the mouth of Number Two. I smiled at her. I got out the glasses and lined them up on the table. We heard the bathtub emptying. I sat down at the table, having nothing else to do. Her breast was incredibly large-I couldn’t keep from staring at it.

“Hey,” I said. “You’re not kidding around there.”

She bit her lip, then answered.

“You’re telling me. You can’t imagine how hard they are. They hurt even…”

Without taking her eyes from mine, she moved her dress aside and got out the other one. It was truly impressive, I must admit. I nodded.

“Feel it,” she said. “You’ll see what I mean. Feel it…”

I thought it over for a second, then latched onto it from across the table. It was warm and smooth, with transparent blue veins in it-the type of specimen that’s a pleasure to get your hands on. She closed her eyes. I let go, then stood up to go look at the goldfish.

The whole house smelled like spoiled milk. I didn’t know if this had something to do with the dairy underneath, or if it was because of the little newborn. It was disgusting for guys like me, who don’t go in much for milk products. While she was burping him, the little tyke looked at me, dazed, then spit up on his Oshkosh B’ Goshes. I wanted to roll over and die. Bob showed up and got out a bottle.

“You will note that he only pulls this shit on my afternoons off,” he said. “Oedipus did not only fuck his mother-he also killed his father.”

“Bob, this one needs to go to bed.” Annie sighed.

“Bob, you got something to munch on?” I asked.

“Sure. Go get whatever you want out of the store.”

Annie didn’t take her eyes off me. I gave her a look as cold as a tombstone, then went down. I hate it when they think you’re easy. Stay away from easy shots-you come out better in the end. It’s never bothered me that I have a soul and know how to use it-it’s the only thing, in fact, that’s ever really interested me.

It was getting dark in the store. It took me a while to find the party-mix section. Roasted almonds have always been my vice. They were on the bottom shelf. I squatted down and loaded up. I must have been daydreaming. I didn’t hear her come in-I just felt a light breathing on my cheek. One second later, she grabbed me around the neck. She pushed my face between her legs. I let go of the almonds. I untangled myself in a hurry and stood up.

Annie seemed to be in some sort of delirious trance. She was vibrating from head to foot-bathing me with her burning eyes. Before I could come up with a good line, she popped her tits out of her dress and pressed herself against me.

“Hurry up,” she said. “For God’s sake, hurry up!”

She wedged one of her legs between mine, her thing jammed into my thigh. I moved aside. She was panting like she’d just run the thousand-yard dash. Her chest seemed even bigger in the darkness. She was obscenely white. Her nipples were aimed right at me. I raised my hand.

“Annie…”

But she grabbed my wrist in mid-flight and plastered my hand over her tits. She started rubbing herself on me again. I sent her flying into the shelves.

“I’m sorry…” I said.

I felt a wave of fury come out of her belly, like a torpedo, setting the store on fire. Her eyes glazed over.

“What’s come over you? What seems to be the problem, mister?” she hissed.

I wondered why she got formal all of a sudden. It was so strange, I couldn’t answer.

“What’s wrong with me?” she went on. “I’m not pretty enough? You don’t desire…?”

“I don’t give in to all my desires,” I said. “It makes me feel a little freer, that way.”

She bit her lip, stroking her belly gently with her hand. She let out a little childlike whine.

“I can’t stand it anymore,” she said.

While I was picking up the cans of almonds, she lifted up her dress, her back against the canned goods. Her little white under pants flashed through my skull like a bolt of lightning. My hand started traveling toward her-I told myself it was simply too strong to deny. But then I told myself: Do this and you’re a scumbag, selling your soul out for a cheap fantasy. I took a good look at the scoreboard before deciding. Man is nothing. But it’s his conscience that makes something out of nothing. These thoughts bore me up-they were part of my emergency kit. I gently took her by the arm.

“Forget all this,” I said. “What say we go up and have a nice peaceful drink with the others? Okay…?”

She let her dress down. She lowered her head and buttoned her dress.

“I wasn’t asking very much,” she murmured. “I just wanted to know if I still existed is all…”

“Stop worrying about it,” I said. “Everybody needs to let it out, one way or another.”

I stroked her cheek. But clumsy gestures can be like hot coals.

She looked at me, desperate.

“Bob hasn’t touched me in over a month,” she sobbed. Ever since I came home from the clinic. It’s making me crazy! Don’t you think it’s normal to want it? Do I have to just wait for him to decide…?”

“I don’t know. It’ll all work out.”

She ran her lingers through her hair, sighing.

“Yeah, it’ll all work out. Sure. Probably one of these nights, while I’m sound asleep, he’ll decide. Naturally, it’ll be a night when I’m totally exhausted-dead as a doornail. He’ll come over and slip me his thing from behind. I can see it all now. He won’t even bother to see if I’m awake or not.”

It always seems like a tiny little dent in the beginning, but bend over a little and get a closer look-you find that you’re standing on the edge of a bottomless abyss. That’s why they invented goose pimples, to keep your teeth from chattering.

I put a bag of chips in her arms, and we went upstairs. No one was in the kitchen. She had two drinks, waiting for the others to come. I drank a toast to the goldfish.

In the end, Bob and Annie made us stay for dinner. They insisted. We looked at each other. I said, Betty, it’s up to you, you’re the one who wanted to eat Chinese. Betty said, Let’s stay.

“Now that the kids are asleep we can eat in peace,” Bob said.

I went down into the store to get some groceries with Bob. It was practical. In time of war, much more reassuring than pianos, I thought. There were even little garlic croutons, to consume preferably before the end of the next five years. Ideal for freeze-dried fish soup.

“I’ll buy the wine,” I said.

He rang up my bill and gave me my change. We went back upstairs.

We let the girls make dinner. It made them happy. We gave them a few olives while waiting. In the meantime, Bob dragged me into the bedroom to show me his collection of detective novels. It took up a whole wall. He stood in front of it, his fists on his hips.

“If you read one a day, it would still take you at least five years!” he said.

“You don’t read anything else?” I asked.

“There’s some science fiction on the bottom shelf…”

“You know,” I said, “we’re really pushovers. They toss us a few bones so we won’t try and grab the real meat. I’m not just talking about books-they’ve worked it out so they can say anything they want…”

“Huh…? Anyway, if you want I can loan you a few, but be careful, no kidding. Especially with the hardcovers.”

I glanced at the unmade bed. No one gets out alive. In the end, chances are you’re wasting your time. The problem, though, is that it’s never really completely wasted.

“Starting to smell good in the kitchen,” I said. “Better go have a look…”

“Yeah. But you got to admit, I really floored you there.”

After dinner we sat down to a nice easy game of poker. We each had a glass of wine, and there were enough ashtrays to go around. From where I sat I could see the moon. It didn’t seem like much in itself, but if you’re going to rhapsodize, you might as well go all out. All the greats have. The game did not keep me on pins and needles. When I wasn’t looking at the moon, I looked at the others. The mystery was just as profound. Roots entangling endlessly-the chances of lifting a corner of the veil growing fainter each time a cloud comes to cover the moon. One thing led to another. I slid into a bath of gentle stupidity. Not uncommon these days.

The baby’s crying woke me. Bob slammed his hand down on the table, swearing. Annie stood up. I hardly had any chips left. I couldn’t understand it. Archie woke up and started crying too. Screaming like a banshee.

Annie and Bob came back into the kitchen with the two of them shrieking in their arms. I gave myself three seconds to beat it out of there.

“We’ll leave you alone now,” I said. “Sleep well, you two.”

I shoved Betty adroitly in front of me, and we split. When we got to the bottom of the stairs, I heard Bob call:

“Hey, nice having you guys over!”

“Thanks for everything, Bob.”

The fresh air did me good. I suggested we take a little walk before heading home. She took my arm and nodded her head. There were already a few tiny leaves on the trees. The air shook them. You could smell the young buds in the street, an aroma that got stronger and stronger.

We went up the street in silence. There comes a moment when the silence between two people can have the purity of a diamond. Such was the case then. That’s all you can say about it. The street is no longer a street. The light becomes fragile as a dream. The sidewalks shine. The air crashes in your face. A joy rises in you that has no name-that amazes you. It’s being able to stay calm, to light someone’s cigarette with your back to the wind, without the slightest tremble in your hand to betray you. It was the kind of walk that can fill a lifetime.

On the corner was a garbage can with a rubber tree in it. Though it’d been thrown out, it was still in good shape, with lots of leaves. It was just thirsty. My heart went out to it. It looked like a sad coconut tree, agonizing on an archipelago of trash.

“Can you tell me why people do things like this?” I asked.

“Hey, look, it’s sprouting a new leaf!”

“…and why this crummy old rubber tree tugs so hard at my heartstrings…”

“We could put it downstairs, with the pianos.”

I unwedged the poor thing and took it in my arms. We went home. The leaves clicked like amulets, shiny as mica. Dancing like Christmas Eve. It was a grateful rubber tree-I’d given it another chance.

When I rolled into bed, I looked at the ceiling and smiled.

“What a fabulous day!” I said.

“Yeah.”

“How do you like that-first day open and we sell a piano. It’s a sign…”

“Don’t get carried away.”

“I’m not getting carried away.”

“You talk like it’s something that just happened to us.”

I felt the pavement get slippery. I steered into the parking lane. “What, don’t you think it’s good to have sold a piano?”

She sighed lightly, pulling off her sweater.

“Yes, it’s good.”