"Yes."
"I understand . . ."
That's a fact. I understood . . . you know if you've been through it . . . you can't stand it any more . . . one fine day you're ready to risk everything . . . to have been born somewhere else . . . death, okay, but back home! that attraction . . . you can't reason about it . . . not the least bit . . . you just crawl . . . that animal magnet . . .
"Okay! Okay! . . . if that's how it is . . . but those people over there . . . coming and going . . . never stopping . . .
crossing the square . . . getting on . . . getting off . . .
what
are they doing?" Maybe he could tell me that at least! . . .
"They're going home . . . to get the fare."
I'm getting on his nerves . . .
Going home to get something? . . . those stiffs seem to be pretty innocent . . . Hell!. . . I've been thought dead . . . reported dead . . . suppose I'd have gone home and asked for a handkerchief . . . or a pin! . . . my heirs took over quick! wiped me out! . . . what did I find? . . .. thin air and threats! . . .
That's a good one," I say . . . "You expect to find something if you go home? . . ."
"Home? Where?" He's flabbergasted.
"Where you hung out . . . On the Avenue Junot . . ."
"Hell, no."
"Then those people aren't dead?"
"Can't you tell? . . . Don't you catch the aroma?"
He was right . . . I smelled it . . . Agar sniffed at them . . . but I couldn't make him bark . . . Agar who barked at any damn thing . . . at a leaf in the wind . . . he's given up barking . . .
"He doesn't bark at you either . . . this place has got him down . . . it's not just the dead people . . . what about you? Are you alive? . . ."
A last vestige of doubt . . .
"But tell me, how'd you get here? . . . how'd you get away?" He should explain.
It was complicated . . . I listen . . . he was working in the Argentine . . . He'd found . . . a stroke of luck . . . some extra work with his wife, Anita . . . on location . . .
"You see the spurs? . . . take a look . . . 'gaucho' . . . picture was supposed to take two months . . . give me a part right away . . . I didn't ask, hell! . . . they practically forced me . . . ask Anita . . . historical picture . . . first a gaucho . . . then a bandit . . . and then a rebel general . . . a picture about their history . . . okay by me . . . just then Perón falls . . . and he was paying the subsidy! I say: good-bye, I'm clearing out, let's go . . . I wasn't going to hang around . . . me and Anita . . . no soap! . . . Lebrun! Pétain! Hitler! I'd had enough, fun! . . . Perón . . . count me out! . . . all the ports closed . . . guarded . . . lovely! . . . only place you could get a freighter to France was Santiago, Chile . . . put that in your pipe . . . the whole of South America . . . the whole pampas . . . three months in the grass . . . grass this high . . ."
He shows me . . .
"You don't know the pampas? . . . three months . . . Anita in espadrilles . . . me, I had boots . . . I made new soles for Anita . . . for myself, too . . . out of bark . . . not so easy . . . if you find a truck tire, okay . . . but trees! . . . in the Cordilleras you find everything . . . everything . . . a whole camp full of trucks . . . kitchens . . . everything . . . it was high time! get a load of this! . . . a train! . . . a real train! . . . a city of gauchos! . . . and espadrilles! whole barns full of espadrilles! and boots! . . . Did we outfit ourselves! . . . you should have seen it . . . they gave us everything . . . that's right . . . and dough . . . I didn't want to take it, they forced me, they got sore . . . they'd seen me, they had a movie house, they knew me . . . sound and all . . . they'd seen me in
Goupil
. . .
"You were terrific!"
He wouldn't let me go on . . . how unforgettable he was, etc. etc. Not just in
Goupil
, in a raft of other pictures . . . he's got to do all the talking . . . I've got to button up . . . and make it fast . . . there wouldn't be time . . .
Time? What do you mean?"
"Charon, see?"
He's got the terrors again . . . Charon . . . the alleged Charon . . . But there was one thing . . .
"How'd you find the
bateau-mouche
?"
"Through Emile . . . through Emile . . ."
He calls him . . .
Emile's working . . . he walks down the gangplank . . . rolls, I should say . . . Le Vigan introduces me. "It's Ferdinand!"
Emile doesn't know me . . . not at all . . . and I don't rec
ognize him, either . . . I don't remember
him
. . . of course I've changed . . . maybe he has too? . . . I look back . . .
Le Vigan tells me all about it . . . the tribulations . . . the things that had happened to Emile . . . no joke . . . he'd come from the cemetery . . . Emile! Yes, Emile! . . . I had a right not to recognize him . . . straight out of the cemetery . . . the mass ditch . . . here's the way it happened: as he was coming out of the post office, the cops grabbed him . . . they'd been tailing him . . . handcuffs . . . two seconds flat . . . "This way!" They take him away . . . they try to . . . the crowd won't let them . . . they pull him away from the cops! "Stinking L.V.F." The whole crowd rushes him . . . They lynch him! tear him to pieces! right then and there! every bone in his body! femurs! head! pelvis! . . . they gouge out one eye! that's why he was wearing a bandage . . . and walking so funny, under himself you might say, like a spider, revolving . . . I saw him coming down the gangplank, unrecognizable, like a monstrous insect . . . dumb, you've got to admit, showing himself on that particular day . . . and at the Post Office . . . the main one . . . the cops were nothing . . . but the crowd . . . they didn't even give him time to get to the police station . . . on the rue du Bouloi . . they'd made hash out of him . . . hash and chunks of bone . . . on the sidewalk outside of the Post Office . . . the main one . . . a cart came by from the Food Market . . ."Take him for meat!" they yell! The butcher didn't want him . . . "to Thiais!" To the mass ditch . . . direct! . . . hell, it was bound to happen . . . he fell on a glorious day of Vengeance . . . Emile wasn't the only one . . . thousands were lynched that day . . . that same day . . . recognized for L.V.F.'s . . . or something else . . . all over . . . in the provinces . . . in Paris . . .
Okay . . . Emile in the ditch . . . Well about five, six days later . . . the dead started moving . . . sort of wriggling . . . under him . . . the stiffs . . . under and over him . . . disentangling themselves . . . absolutely! . . . hoisting themselves out of the ditch! . . . Emile, who'd come from the siege of Moscow, who'd been through three Russian winters, had
seen plenty of
guys
buried a damn sight
worse than that . . .
pull
themselves out of
a
lot bigger holes! . . . craters, crevices, regular upside-down Pantheons . . . so he said . . . he wasn't going to let a little thing like this surprise him . . . heaps of every kind of wreckage . . . whole cities . . . suburbs, factories, locomotives! . . . and tanks! whole armies of tanks in ravines so deep that the Champs-Elysées, the Arch of Triumph, and the Obelisk would have disappeared . . . easy! . . . just to show you that Emile was ready . . . on the spot! . . . wedged in under the stiffs in Thiais . . . he hung on . . . to scraps of flesh . . . scraps of clothing . . . and heave! he hoists himself! right along with them! . . . moving? . . . good . . . he moves too . . . golden opportunity! . . . he lets them hoist him! that's right! . . . up and out! . . . he
hurt all
over . . .
but
he didn't let go . . . if they were leaving, he was leaving
too
. . . he went down the hill with them . . . to the Seine . . . to the riverbank . . . latched onto them . . . like a pilgrimage . . . in twos and threes . . . like they were saying their prayers . . . down to
La Publique
. . . okay . . . dead-quiet pilgrimage . . . Emile didn't make a sound either . . . nobody said a word . . . Emile's obsession: no noise . . . not to be massacred all over again . . . not to be noticed . . . he knew . . . that's all . . . he knew the main thing was to steer clear of living people . . . he'd found that out at the Post Office! he'd seen enough . . . cops or no cops! . . . if he got caught again, he was through . . . Emile wasn't dumb . . . he knew how lucky he'd been . . . thrown into
a
ditch with people who just happened to be on their way out . . . he wasn't going to leave them . . . "Going that way? . . . Good, I'm tagging along . . ." He tagged . . . the path . . . the zigzags . . . down the hill . . . and the gangplank . . . but then! . . . the minute they got there . . . one foot on deck . . . a voice! . . . Stentorian! "What do you think you're doing? . . ." And to him personally: "Where the hell have you come from? Who the hell are you?" Emile couldn't see him . . . this being was behind him . . . he didn't turn around . . .
"Out of the ditch . . . I'm with them . . ."
"Oh, so you're with them, you stinker! bastard! oh . . . so you're with them!"
And
wham! slam!
. . . his skull again . . . square in the skull . . .
bam!
. . . what's he packing? . . . a hammer?
wham!
. . . he passes out . . . he hasn't seen the monster . . . hasn't had time . . . who is it?
"I'm Charon, see!"
He comes to . . . he sees the being! . . . a giant! really something: at least three . . . four times my size! . . . built like a barrel . . . with a face . . . that face! . . . like an ape . . . part tiger . . . part ape . . . part tiger . . . and heavy! . . . the whole boat listed . . . wearing . . . he's still telling me his story . . . some kind of frock coat . . . but a uniform frock coat . . . embroidered with silver tears . . . but the most terrific: his cap . . . as big as he was . . . an admiral's cap! . . . tall! . . . and wide! embroidered with gold!
Emile handed me a laugh . . .
"There's nothing to laugh about . . . you'll see . . . at least three four times bigger than you . . . take it from me . . . when he gets to work on your face!"
Me and my giggles . . . Le Vigan wasn't saying a thing . . .
"You'll see him . . . his oar in your face . . . you'll see him!" A promise . . .
"He splits their skulls with an oar . . ."
"Oh?" I act surprised. Charon's oar he's talking about . . .
"Everybody that comes on board . . . he fixes them . . . am I right, Le Vigan . . . rows right into them . . . square in the head . . . I'm telling you . . . that oar . . . Am I right, Le Vigan?"
"Right! . . . Right!" says Le Vigan.
"That's how he does it . . . nobody sneaks through . . . it's the law . . . the law . . . and let them pay up! . . . take it from me . . . If I'd said the same as I did: present! Emile! . . . but how about the dough? if I'd had any dough, he'd have taken me! no question! . . . he'd have finished me off! let me go aboard . . . if I'd said: 'Here's the gold, sir!' . . . okay with anybody else! not with him: cash!, cash! . . . you'll see how he fixes them . . . got some? . . . haven't?
Wham!
. . .
bam!
ghosts or ghostesses! simper and sigh? Won't get you anywhere! . . . Bam . . . the brass, Admiral . . . absolutely ferocious! . . . no time to lose! . . . the brass! got some? haven't? . . . mothers . . . kids . . . same difference . . .
wham!
massacre! . . . pay up! and cash! . . . 'No brass? go back where you came from!' . . . Can you imagine? . . . they went back . . . Am I right, Le Vigan . . . What do you say? . . ."
"Right . . . right . . ."
"It's him they pay . . . am I right, Robert?"
"Yes . . . yes . . . right . . ."
I've only got to look at the enormous pouch! . . . ah, and the oar too! . . . the famous oar! . . . he wasn't lying . . . what an oar! with an oar like that you could deliver! . . . and I know oars . . . I can see it standing there . . . from the dock to the top of the smokestack . . . the length of it! longer than the gangplank . . . no man could lift that . . . only a monster . . . no human strength . . . a skull smashes . . . I could see that . . . But maybe they were pulling my leg? All three of them? . . . Le Vigan . . . Emile . . . and the girl? . . . Skulls or no skulls . . . let's get one thing straight . . . how'd they get there? How had they met? . . . Le Vigan, spurs and sombrero . . . Emile of the Cemetery . . . and Miss Anita? . . . I was too old and tired to think anything was impossible . . . all the same, one thing was sure, I was going to make myself scarce! . . . oar or no oar . . . Charon or no Charon! . . . all that was pretty screwy! . . . weird . . . curious! . . . let's say I was curious . . . born curious, you'll always be curious . . . but Emile here, Le Vigan, and the doll . . . were a little more than weird . . . and this boat of theirs! . . .
La Publique!
. . . On my way out one last question!