Narrow Rooms by James Purdy

Author:James Purdy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Valancourt Books
Published: 2019-03-02T16:00:00+00:00

Then to go back to Gareth’s accident. Gareth of course was driving, but how was he driving?

After Brian McFee had lost Sidney’s love, he sought out the only other possible person who might go hunting with him. (Roy during this time was cold as ice to him, he had failed him, he was through with him, he would never speak to him again, he might even murder him . . . The only way he could take him back was if he “killed Vance’s brother,” and that was that, etc.)

Brian had a little more trouble leading Gareth “astray” than he had Sidney. But not a whole lot more. The trouble actually came after he had got him. Gareth almost immediately grew overfond of grass, and wanted more and more of it. The price for so much grass was Gareth’s (in the words of the court which convicted Sidney a few weeks later), “moral obloquy,” for the court had insisted the letter found in Brian’s blood-soaked breast pocket be read again at the conclusion of the trial, and the prosecutor had said right out that the letter showed that it was addressed to Sidney and that the two men, McFee and De Lakes, had some deep and unwholesome friendship.

That was really what had convicted Sidney De Lakes. The accusation had sent Vance home with a sick headache.

The “moral obloquy” of Gareth Vaisey was completed in less than a month, and the death of his father and two brothers and his own physical and mental ruin came just a few days before Sidney shot and killed Brian.

For on the day his unsuspecting father and his two brothers elected Gareth to drive them and a trailer with the new horse just purchased in a famous stable in Kentucky, they had no idea they were going to their death because of the fact Gareth had elected to choose a “life style” (a phrase used in the trial) as utterly unknown to them as Sidney’s romance with Brian McFee was utterly unsuspected by his brother. For in the words of the scissors-­grinder, Roy Sturtevant, Brian had merely let Gareth find out who he was, anyhow, that is, the only thing he really liked was to have Brian McFee lie naked on him all night long and he liked even better smoking grass—six, eight joints a day if possible.

Gareth had seen the fast train coming that evening, but it was not real to him, it was only lights and sounds, red and yellow and harmless in the thick dark of evening coming to meet night. And then Brian had appeared on his horse! Or seemed to appear! “Race me, Garey, you race me now . . . Beat me if you can to the crossing, double-­dare you!”

“For God’s sake, Gareth, back up or go forward fast!” his father had cried and his hands were reaching out from the back seat to grab the wheel when there came the crash like world and sky had collapsed together in fire, and a stream of hot blood rained from everywhere, stinging the eyes and lips.

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