Donald Barthelme by The Dead Father

Author:The Dead Father
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-06-05T14:20:20+00:00

14

Alexander, Sam, and Edmund. Requesting permission to speak.

Of course, said Thomas. What is it?

Well sir, said Alexander, some of the boys have been thinking.

Yes? What is it they have been thinking?

Well sir, said Alexander, the men have a melancholy.

Oh my, said Thomas. Which?

Well sir, I would say it is the pip. Less a sulk than a sourness.

What are the symptoms?

Headache, vertigo, singing in the ears, much waking, fixed eyes, red eyes, high color, hard belly, short and sharp belchings, dry brains, and pain in the left side. Not each man has every symptom. Most have two. Some have three. One has four.

Me, Edmund said.

Did I not double the rum ration? Thomas asked.

You did, sir, you did, and we are grateful. Yet —Well what is the issue?

Well sir, I was coming to that. The issue, Alexander said, is ethical.

Oh my. Local or general?

Well sir, we feel maybe we ought not to be doin’ what we are doin’. We feel it’s a scotomizing, you might say.

A what?

A darkening of the truth.

What truth and how darkened?

Well sir, Alexander said, look at it this way. It is this: The grand Father’s bein’ all hauly-mauly by the likes of us over bump and bumbust and all raggletailed and his poor bumleg all hurty and his grand aura all tarnagled and June bein’ a bad month for new enterprises and a bad month for old enterprises accordin’ to the starcharts and like that, we that is to say us the men have a faint intustition that maybe the best is not to come in terms of the grand Father the moon-hanger the eye-in-the-sky the old meister the bey window the bit chammer the gaekwarder the incaling the khando kid the neatzam the shotgun of kyotowing the principal stadtholder the voivode the top wali, this Being, I say, being a Being of the highest anthropocentrictrac interest, as well as the one who keeps the corn popping from the fine green fields and the like and the like, is maybe being abruised and lese-majestied by us poor galoots over many meters of hard cheese days in and out but even a galoot has a brain to wonder with and what we wonder is to what end? for what purpose? are we right? are we wrong? are we culpable? to what degree? will there be a trial after? official inquiry? court of condemnation? white paper? have you told him? if you have told him what have you told him? how much of the blame if there is blame is ours? ten percent? twenty percent? in excess of that figure? and searching our hearts as we do each morning and evening and also at midday after lunch and after the dishes have been washed, we wonder whither? what for? can the conscience be coggled? are we doing the right thing? and with all the love and respect we have for you Thomas-the-Tall-Standing and for your wisdom which we do not deny for a moment and for your heart — To put it in the short form, we are dubious.

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