Read Online Been Down So Long It Looks Like Up to Me by Richard Farina - Free Book Online Page A

on the soles of his feet. Looking down, he was astonished to find them being annointed and prayed over.
    “What are you doing
that
for, man?”
    The priest was silent until he had finished, then answered with a weak smile, “The sins of the feet.”
    “Of the feet?” Big toe right in there. Blakean fetish.
    “They carry one to sin.”
    “Ah.” He stared down at his great paddles, the ankles jutting out absurdly, Mr. Right and Mrs. Left, the hermaphrodites. Introduce them again, annointed sinners. Hello there, you handsome thing. Hello there yourself; wanna tickle?
    “Well then.” The priest stood and replaced the cruet in his bag. “We’ll certainly remember you in our prayers. It’s so seldom we’re called out to administer this lovely sacrament. So many think it’s reserved for the dying, you see.”
    “Ohhhhh,” pressing both forefingers to his temples.
    “What is it, my son?”
    “The dregs of the pain, ohhhh.”
    “My, my. You really must not negate the value of secular medicine,” looking to Heff for corroboration.
    “Symptomatic claptrap, Father; they fail to treat the disease. But here . . . ” he motioned for his rucksack, fishing out two of the silver dollars, “here; for the poor.”
    “Oh. Well, thank you. My. But what are they?” Turning them over cautiously in pink fingers.
    “Silver, Father. Sow and ye shall reap.”
    “Yes, well. Well then, I’ll just be going. When you’re healthy again you must come along to the Newman Club. There are so few members.”
    “I certainly will, man. And may I bring this fallen angel as well?” Heffalump twitching at the reference.
    “Of course, you might even be interested in the little choir we’re getting up. Well then, I’ll just be on my way. Lovely sacrament, this. Pleasing to give.” He squirmed into his heavy coat and turned to the door as Heff rose, “No no, I’ll let myself out. Thank you.” And was gone.
    “Weeee,” squealed Gnossos when the footfalls had faded, “Dig me. Dig where I’m at. Annointed, cleansed, purified.”
    “Your feet are all greasy.”
    “Infidel. Know ye not the fury of the Lord profaned?”
    “I do, man, but it sure looks like you don’t. C’mon, get out of the sack. You want another drink?”
    “Only sacramental wine. Oh, listen to that Miles. I’m cured, right?” Creeping off the couch, hobbling to the speaker on all fours. “Dig how pure, how clean. Dig the control.” His hangover still tapping.
    “Dig it later,” said Heff, turning off the turntable. “It’s the middle of the goddamned afternoon. You’ve got to register and I’ve got to see if my appeal did any good—”
    “What appeal, man?”
    “They busted me out at midterm, I already told you, but I appealed.”
    “They can’t bust you, Heff.” Gnossos rolling over on his back. “That puts you out in the world.”
    “Cuba.”
    “Yeah, I heard you once. It’s the wrong generation, baby, you’ll be purged. Anyway, your spade blood is where it’s at.”
    His face flushing. “Bullshit.”
    “Don’t put it down. Twenty-five parts out of a hundred itching for the white-man’s scalp. You’ve got problems.”
    “They ain’t your problems, gumbook. And moving out is one hell of a lot better than chewing cud at Guido’s Grill.” He picked up an envelope of forms and appeal material, then wheeled around, pointing a finger. “If I stayed, I’d end up like G. Alonso Oeuf, ten
years
on the academic scene.”
    Gnossos blinked at the name and sat up. “Oeuf? You’ve seen him?”
    “In the infirmary is all. Scheming to take over the university, from the look of his little headquarters. Talk about short-sighted vision!”
    “Anyway,” from Gnossos, finally pulling on a pair of crumpled corduroys, “you don’t have enough bread to make New York, let alone Havana. Did you show anything on the wheel last night?”
    “Your buddy Aquavitus will set me up, don’t worry.”
    “Who?”
    “Aquavitus, man, you heard