A bad, bad day. Dark, soaring feelings of important tasks yet undone. Yet unknown. I am afraid to go to the bathroom.
/g/
All the excitement of the twirling and giggling, and the tension of live performance, but especially the twirling, had been responsible for a slight crisis with respect to Spatula. Things were quickly put right again, though, with Lenore helping with paper towels, and the audience was put in a FREEZE mode, and finally unfrozen, and things got back underway.
Stoney: “Disorientation and sadness resulted when the family-members tried to depend on things that weren’t them and weren’t the family for their own happiness and being-themselves-ness.”
“Sense of self.”
“Sense of self. So they… they…”
Clarice stepped forward and gently pushed Stonecipher out of the way:
“So they did what any smart family-members would do. They talked with one another, and aired the things they weren’t comfortable with as people right then, and meaningful dialogue and personal interaction was established, and the family-members began to grow emotionally both as individuals and as members of an emotional network of shared interests and values and emotional commitments, and then the growth and development and dialogue was facilitated by their going and seeing an outside party whose whole life was directed toward helping family-members grow and see themselves clearly both as selves and members, and so come to a fuller and happier sense of self.”
The invisible orchestra on the television now struck up a tune, and in the living room in Cleveland Heights there took place a sort of dance, with involved connections and motions and gestures, each directed by family-members at other family-members, while the audience clapped its hands. The dance would have been better, except Alvin wasn’t participating with full enthusiasm, and kept gravitating back to the sofa and looking down through his mask at his notes from the Kopek Spasova interview.
The dance ended. Lenore looked at the clock on the mantel. Spatula, damp but cheerful, stepped forward.
“And after a long time of trying, the Snapiards…,” she giggled, “… discovered the easiest thing in the whole world. They all discovered that they couldn’t try to depend for their feelings of being themselves on just the whole family, because they each weren’t the whole family.” The Spaniards all went and stomped on their FAMILY-MEMBER masks. “And they couldn’t get their feelings of themselves from things, because they weren’t things.” They all pretended to stomp on their things, but didn’t really, especially Alvin and his Spiro Agnew watch. “They found out that what they needed to get their feelings of being themselves from was, themselves…,” Spatula smiled wonderfully at the television as a murmur went through the crowd, “… because that’s what they were. The easiest thing in the world is what they saw.” And Alvin, Clarice, Stoney, and Spatula took off their Alvin-, Clarice-, Stoney-, and Spatula-masks, and stared deeply into the empty eyeholes of their own faces. Through one of her eyeholes Spatula said to the television, “The End.” The television audience rose as one.
/h/
“Dum de dum de dum de dum.”
“La de da de da de da.”
“Jesus shall not want.”
“ ”
“Jesus shall not want.”
“What?”
“Pardon me?”
“What in the Lord’s name?”
“The Lord is my supper. Jesus shall not want.”
“Sweet Mother McCree.”
“You fill me up.”
“It’s a miracle.”
“Lay your sleeping head, my love.”
“Dear Father in heaven.”
“Human on my faithless arm.”
“The bird has been touched by God.”
“The bird has been touched by God.”
“Yes.”
“I have to do what’s right for me as a person.”
“Thank you Lord. Thank you for touching this house. Oral, I did, I expected a miracle.”
“The sins of the fathers.”
“Charlotte’s Web. It’s like Charlotte’s Web.”
“A camel, like this.”
“Dare I touch you?”
“Women need space, too.”
“Ow! Well, the dear little thing still bites.”
“Clint Clint Clint. It’s like Charlotte’s Web.”
“Oh Martin Tissaw, why aren’t you here?”
“Maybe we could get him on ‘Real People.’ ”
“What?”
“Maybe we could get him on ‘Real People.’ ”
“Is that what You direct me to do, God? To get this bird, this animal through which You have chosen to make Yourself heard, on ‘Real People’?”
“Anger is natural, let it out.”
“To deliver Your message of anger and love?”
“Human on my faithless arm.”
“Then that is what I shall do. Get up off your knees, woman!”
“Get up off your knees, woman!”
“Go forth and do the work directed.”
“ ‘Real People.’ ”
“Yes, ‘Real People.’ Disgusting mirror and all. But first I call Martin.”
“ ‘Real Birds.’ It may get torn, I’m warning you. Care for a mint?”
“Forget dusting.”
“What’s with Vlad the Impaler?”
“I’ve been called.”
“Make me come.”
“Come you shall. We shall go together, but first let me call ‘Real People,’ ”
“Goodbye.”
“Thank you, Lord.”
11. 1990
/a/
“I think maybe it’s time for me to just hop on my horse and git.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I feel like I need to get the fuck out.”
“Out of what?”
“How much time we got here, Melinda-Sue?”
“You said you loved Scarsdale. You said you loved me.”
“I think it’s turning out there’s problems with that analysis. I think what I unfortunately meant is that I loved fucking you, is basically all. And I just don’t think I love fucking you anymore.”
“….”
“… my razor…”
“Why not?”
“….”
“How come?”
“I’m not sure I really know. I’m hopin’ to give it some more thought. It’s just not wonderful anymore. Nothing personal. It’s just not wonderful.”
“Not wonderful? What do you mean, not wonderful?”
“Well, look at your leg.”
“What’s the matter with my leg? I’m only twenty-seven. I’ve got nice legs. I happen to know for a fact they’re nice.”
“You irritate all kinds of hell out of me when you don’t listen to what I say, Melinda-Sue. I never said you didn’t have nice legs. All I said was to just look at your goddamn leg.”
“….”
“We’re just missing the wonderfulness. Your leg, for an example. It’s all smooth and firm and shapely and all. It looks good and it feels good and it smells good. God knows you keep it real well shaved. It’s all beautiful and artistic and all that shit. But see, it’s just a leg. That’s all it is for me, now, is a fucking leg. It could be my leg, if I shaved my leg.”
“What difference does that make?”
“It makes all kinds of difference, honeypot. You put your thinkin’ cap on about it for a while.”
“You’re being immature. You’re being totally unrealistic. You’re deliberately trying to hurt me.”
“No, what I’m deliberately trying to do is say fuck off, is what I’m deliberately trying to do.”