Authors: Hubert Selby
Look at that, almost three. Tempus really fugits. So … these feelings are hunger. Some day I/ll pay attention to that. Yeah, sure. Mind cant be two places at once. Guess I should eat. Too late for lunch. Could wait a couple of hours. Early dinner. What the hell. Is it healthier to have a late lunch or an early dinner? Get the search engine on it. Head still involved with work. Could watch some Bugs Bunny. Destroy half an hour finding out hes not on. Seems silly to call now. Dont know. Wait. Get latest info. Yeah, whenever I call Im getting the latest info. So, same old same old. Always tomorrow. Wow, my heads still out to lunch. Yeah, and Im hungry.
Veterans Administration Hospital, patient information.
I/d like to know how Mr Barnard is doing please.
One moment please … Im sorry sir, theres no Barnard listed.
Really? He was in the ICU (peek a boo) yesterday.
Im sorry sir. That name is not on the list of patients. Perhaps you can check with his doctor or family.
Yes … Right. Well, thank you.
Easy now. Dont get too excited. He could be alright and they sent him home … Or maybe transferred to another hospital, or she made a mistake, didnt see his name. Lot of possibilities. No point in getting excited. Calm. Could go to the coffee shop and see what I hear. Not much chance. Lunchs about all. Always tomorrow.
(Fight, fight, fight, for IC U)
Maybe go to the hospital. Do what? Comeon, anonymity. Hey, wait a second … haha, yeah … sure, the obits. Survived by his loving dog Crip, who sat at his graveside, resisting all attempts to move him, ignoring the food and water brought to him, stretched across the sod of the grave, whining, growing weaker and weaker with the passing of each day, from time to time howling at the moon then falling into sudden silence as if waiting for his beloved masters voice to reach his eager ears from the freshly dug grave, until weak from starvation and dehydration he could no longer resist the attempts to remove him and was lifted from his vigil and before he could be placed in the van 30 feet away he gave up the ghost and lay lifeless in the arms that held him. Crip was the only one to attend his funeral. It is rumored that there were celebrations in various and sundry public places including parks, and community centers, as well as various veterans organizations. They all observed a moment of silence for Crip. Yeah, give me a C, give me an R, give me an I, give me a P. Yes, yes indeed, give me a P so I can piss on his grave. Whoa … take it easy. Premature. Steady. Calm down. Dont know what happened. Come on, breathe in …… Breathe out …… In …… Out …… No hysteria. Leads to mistakes. Maybe tragic. We/ll see. Okay. Thats better. Still hyped, but better. In …… Out …… Okay. No. No—hospital. Not likely in paper tonight. Remember, could be fine. Out walking with Crip. The news? Possible. Usually report food poisoning. They love that. Details. Love the details. Millions die annually. Lets see. Local station best. Four car accident? Yeah. No, no, theres another car way over there … Ohhh, look at that … Oh no, this is awful. So much violence. Disgusting. Do they really believe that that is all people are interested in? Wrecks on freeways … jaws of life … drunks running people down … cops beating people up … people shooting each other … little kids finding fathers gun and shooting friends … over and over … Cant be the only thing happening in the city. Give us a break. Must be something positive and newsworthy happening. What about the proverbial Little ol Lady in tennis shoes? What is she up to today? Feeding the pigeons in the park? Poisoning them? Shooting Pit Bulls? Thats almost as good as man bites dog. Yeah, what about mans best friend? Havent had a cross country trek to find his family in a long time. Got lost in New Hampshire and followed them all the way to Mexico City. To this day no one knows how he avoided ending up part of a taco in Tijuana. How about a dog saving a pussy cat? Or something. Cant take this on an empty stomach. Off, off. Ah, peace and quiet. No more murder and mayhem. Not. here anyway. Petes. Yeah, sounds good. Im starving. Veal picatta. Linguine and clams. Dont know. Have to be careful of shellfish. Pollution. See what Im in the mood for when I get there. I suppose. But cant expect anything in tonights paper. Possible … but save it for the morning. More chance then. Save it. Makes tomorrow like Christmas. Maybe I/ll hang up my stocking. Sing carols. What the hell. Just dont wear a Santa Claus suit to breakfast. Not very anonymous. This time of year. Could always get eggplant parmigiana. Been a long time. Minestrone soup first. Sounds good. Famished.
So much work, so much extensive and intensive, research, such dedication over time, never faltering, yet now, while the outcome is as yet unknown, he lives each day as if it were the last day of his life, and the first day of the rest of his life, each and every moment, every heartbeat, every breath a celebration. Yes, I cannot but admit I am in awe of the man and his commitment, and his ability to maintain such exquisite balance. Another day well lived.
The usual this morning sir? Eggs bright eyed and bushy tailed?
Its been working so far so why change now?
Working?
Im still alive.
Oh. Yes. I/ll bring your
café au lait
in a minute.
Thanks.
Well, no point in feeling around and playing games. Go right for the jugular. Ainsworth, Allen … bingo! Yeah. There it is. In black and white. Has to be true. Give me a B, give me an A, give me an R, give me an N, give me an A, give me an R, give me a D. Barnard, you sweetheart. Oh Barnard, youre a killer. Or is it killee? Oh, this is wonderful. Just wonderful. It worked. It really work—
Heres your
café au lait
sir. My, youre really happy this morning.
Does it show?
Oh yes. You look like youre ready to bounce around the room. Better be careful drinking your coffee.
Oh definitely.
Your stock must have gone through the roof.
Much better. Much, much better.
Wow, it must really be something to die for.
Oh yes. Yes indeedy do.
I/ll be right back with your eggs.
Okay, lets calm down now. Celebrate when we get home. Must be obvious to everyone. No. Eat your breakfast. Business as usual. No deviations. Always anonymous. Important. Dont forget. No way to link me with it. At worst food poisoning. Would never think someone responsible. No connection. Will probably check out coffee shop. Wonder what theyll think if no trace there? Suppose theyll check to see if anyone else is sick. Might think it strange hes the only one. Wonder. Could dump a little in the salad bar. Sure to get a couple then. Be no suspicion then. Conclusive. Barnard not target. Random. Yeah, especially after time lapse. Big trouble for coffee shop. Couple of people might die. Cant do that. Barnards one thing. Innocent people no. Can hardly sit still. Just finish breakfast. Usual tip. No personal connection. Even if they thought it was deliberate. He doesnt even know—knew how many people he screwed. Cant check thousands of names. Excuse me sir, my name is Horatio Q Pinkerton and I am investigating the demise of one Harry Barnard.
Harry Barnard?
Yes. He was an administrator at the Veterans Administration. Benefits division.
Demise?
Yes sir, he is dead. Totally, absolutely, and, I might add, as far as we can tell, irrevocably.
Oh.
I dont suppose you know anything about his death.
I didnt even know he was sick.
Yes … well … he was. Not anymore of course.
Of course.
Pity. Prime of life really. Great pity.
Family in turmoil?
No. Went to Disneyland I believe. Or was it Disneyworld?
Oh.
Its his dog. Crip. Broken hearted. Hasnt eaten since he went to the hospital. Ah, Harry Barnard that is, not the dog.
I see.
Thank you sir, youve been most helpful.
My pleasure … Indeed, my pleasure. Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure. Give me a P, give me an L, and all the rest of it. Really must get out of here. Lets see … yes, every things as I usually leave it. Same tip, same place. Fine. Smile at cashier …
Have a nice day.
Thank you sir. Have a good one.
Oh that feels good to be out. Out, out. Cant go tripping the light fantastic down the street. Had no idea I would feel like this. Over powering! Feel like shouting. Its alright, I can
feel
like it. No damage. Not going to do it. Not going to tell anyone. Not that I would really consider it. Not directly. Maybe allude. Cant do that. Is that why some confess? Not conscience, just a need to talk about it with someone. Tell them how you planned it, executed, results. Powerful urge. Not confess. Just talk. There must be ways. Could go to a bar, or some such place. People always talk to strangers in bars. Wouldnt know who you are. Put on a mustache. Wear horn rimmed glasses. Comb your hair differently. Tell anyone what happened. Theyd never believe it. Yeah, sure, until they heard about it on the news. Even so, they could never connect me with Barnard. Better keep walking, wound tight. Just keep breathing. In …… Out …… Just keep breathing. Dont breathe a word. Maybe Crip. Wow, what a great idea. The only one … creature who cares. Great way to unburden your soul. Suppose he knows what Im saying? Smells me out? Man attacked by dog. Make the news. I could be on television. Dont need that. God. Its becoming unbearable. Like Im going to explode. Have to release the pressure. In …… Out …… If I could leap or jump or just spin around it might help. Try it when I get home. Pair of tights. Up and atem. Walking real fast. Necessary. No slowing down. Not now. Round and round he goes. Throat getting dry. Should have had another glass of water. Where am I???? Hmm, quite a distance from home. Mustve been almost running. Legs getting tired. Have to forget about those leaps and bounds. What the hell, stop in here for a minute. Throat really parched.
Hi. What can I do for you?
Dont know. Something wet.
Scotch & soda … extra soda?
Sounds good.
Taking a constitutional?
Yeah … I guess you could call it that.
Better do it now. Too hot in the afternoon. Here ya go. Ice cubes sound good, dont they?
Huh … oh yeah … yeah, actually they do. Ahh, cold and wet.
You dont drink much, do you?
Drink? Actually, no.
Didnt think so.
Oh?
Ive been a bartender for more than 20 years, and usually when a guy comes in a joint before 12 he doesnt look too good.
Look too good? I dont understand.
No mystery. Theyre usually hung over and have the shakes and need a hair of the dog. You just look thirsty.
Oh … oh, I see. Well, yes, I am. Took a little walk after breakfast and I guess I wandered around too long.
I do that sometimes. Start wondering about things and the next thing you know Im wherever.
Wherever … yeah, sort of. I was thinking of the book Im reading. Fascinating. About a man who needs to kill someone, and do it so it looks natural.
Oh, like the CIA, eh?
I guess. I dont know. But hes just a guy, you know?
Oh, like revenge.
Not exactly. He just needs to be eliminated. He hurts too many people.
I get it, sort of like a mercy killing.
Well, I guess maybe you could think of it like that. Yes. So anyway, he learns how to make E.coli and salmonella cultures and gets it in his coffee.
No shit? How does he do that?
At work. Pretty simple. Actually he works in a lab … in a high school. Of course hes very careful. Sealed containers. When there are no students around of course.
That easy, eh?
Yeah. I mean, thats what it says in the book.
Interesting. An he dumps this stuff in the guys coffee, eh?
Right. He knows where the man eats lunch and just gets behind him and pours it in. Doesnt take much.
Does he get away with it? The guy dies I guess.
Oh yeah, the guy dies. No one knows what happened. He just gets sick and dies.
So, does this assassin screw up and go to the funeral or something and somebody spots him? Wait … he gets some on his hands and does himself in. Is that how it works out?
No. At least not yet. I mean, I havent finished it but so far the guy who does it is still alive. Still anonymous.
Well, so far so good, eh? How far into the book are you?
Oh.., about half I guess.
So this guy still has plenty of time to screw up, eh? Usually some little thing he never noticed, you know how that goes. Success goes to his head and he becomes careless, or he gets involved with a woman. Always a major disaster in those situations. Especially the movies, boy those broads cause more trouble.
Well, so far theres no woman involved … in the book I mean.
So this guy that gets killed is a real prick, is that it?
Oh yeah, hurt a lot of people.
Hows he do that, a shylock or something?
Shylock?
You know, loan shark.
Oh, no. He worked for the VA. Made the lives of thousands of vets miserable, denying them their benefits, that sort of thing. Really horrible person. You really get to hate him.
Yeah, a lotta those bums need killing. Glad to hear somebodys writing a book about those bastards.
Me too. I/ll probably get to finish the book soon.
Let me know how it turns out—want another one?
Huh? Oh no. Thats plenty for me. I can actually feel it. Have to get home.
Right. Have a nice day.
You too.
Here we are, half a block and Im home. Bartenders hear all kinds of stories … .Im sure. Never see him again. Even if suspicious. Flimsy story. Easy to check. No connection. Thats probably it. Nothing to do with a guilty conscience. Pressure. Feeling of accomplishment. Need to tell someone. Ego. Thats what it is. All ego. Bragging not confessing. Priests cant tell. Dont even know whos talking. Cant see. Could tell a priest and be safe. Insane. Cant trust them. Trust a politician for gods sake. Water. Oh, that tastes good. Dont think I was ever that dry. Dont feel like working. Still a little restless. Not like before though. Guess the walk took the edge off. Starting to feel a little weird … deflated I guess. Im okay. Dont know what to do now. Feel like something. Maybe a movie. No, that doesnt sound inviting. Nothing to think about. Or plan. Yeah, I guess thats it. Its sort of over. Dont feel like its over. Something unfinished … lacking. Really feel at loose ends. Oh god, cant even think of turning that on. Dont know what in the hell to do with myself. Okay, lets look at this. Couple of months my energy was focused on Barnard and now thats all over. But no closure. Yeah, that simple, no closure. Its over … hes over … The entire situation is history. There is nothing more to be done. Hes not around anymore. No need to ever think of him. He will not antagonize anyone anymore. Thats a good thing. Very good thing. A lot of vets are going to be happy when they find out. Would like to invite them all to dinner and tell them. See their faces. The huge smiles. Listen to the jokes. The cheers. All the Barnard stories … and then the son of a bitch did this … and that … Yeah … satisfaction. Thats missing. Need closure to have it. You work so hard to achieve something, then you succeed and its like theres no reason to live. As if they gave me a watch and retired me. People live and retire. My life is not without purpose now that this … this … situation is over. Thats insane. Remain anonymous. Funeral parlors filled with people. But who would notice? Lot of strangers. Family doesnt know co-workers. Keep head down. Talk to no one. Could wear a big mustache. And wig. Who would—thats nuts. Absolutely no connection. Wig and mustache. Madness. Too easy to check places that rent those things. Theatrical supplies. Its food poisoning. What could be more suspicious than buying a wig and mustache? Just go and look at the dearly departed. Dont sign the book. The book of the dead. Dead. Thats right. Barnard is dead! Hes not a dearly departed. He is not a deceased. No demise. He is not out to lunch. He is dead! Dead in the water. Very simple. Barnard is dead. No euphemism. Oh I am glad that youre dead you rascal you. Need to see him dead in his box. Oh poor Barnard, I knew him well Horatio. Yes, a light dinner and a visit to the motel of last resorts. Not a short term vacation. Death is so permanent. Dead. Its all over. Done with. Over and done with. Thats all there is there aint no more. Except for the dearly surviving. Its okay Crip, dont cry ol fella. My mother had four more children after me, Eenie, Meanie, Minie and Jack. Jack? What happened to Moe? She didnt want no Moe. Better keep Crip away from the cemetery. It will be fine. Nothing to worry about. Just go for a few minutes and leave. Can always eat later. Not hungry. Gut feels empty, but not hungry. Really not so bad. Feeling sluggish again. Ass dragging. Really at loose ends. Damn, this is ridiculous. Could always have a cup of coffee. Maybe stop off and get some ice cream. Something. Damn. Dont know what I want. Hell with it. Just go. Its not foolish. Arsonists always show up at their fires. Love them. I dont love Barnard and I am not an arsonist. Time to get going. Come on, lets go.