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Authors: William Gaddis
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never said a word but Iâd see him looking at Oscar sometimes, watching him with that cunning little smile he gets when you donât know whether heâs pleased or that youâd better watch out.
âTell you one thing, Iâd hate to argue a case before him when heâs sober.
âWell you only met him that once Harry, he was hardly at his best.
âKept calling me counselor, that courtly manner and the gravy spots on his tie Iâm not even sure he knew who I was. He seemed to think I wanted to discuss Justice Holmesâ dissent in the Black and White Taxicab case, heâs got total recall for the year nineteen twenty eight when he was clerking for his father on the High Court and now the press down there trying to heat things up over this Szyrk decision, madness in the family and all the rest of it, have you seen that ad for this damn Civil War movie? Based on a true story, have you seen it? All theyâd need is a look in his chambers there, sweltering, cigarette smoke you could cut with a knife, must have been a hundred degrees and that Christ awful life size plasticpraying hands thing of Dürerâs standing there on the window sill upside down like somebody taking a dive, think thatâs his idea of a joke?
âGod only knows, heâs . . .
âIf it is itâs a pretty good one.
âWell of course thatâs why Oscarâs so frantic, I donât mean this mess about Father but this awful movie, you canât blame him. I mean thatâs why he tried to write his play in the first place, for his grandfather, you can imagine, I mean even after heâd retired from the Court he used to dress to go out to dinner and Oscar had this solemn little task, transferring his gold watch and chain and the gold pen knife and change from the pockets of the suit heâd had on to his evening clothes it went on right till the last, he didnât die till he was ninety six and then suddenly thereâs this little boy with his own mother gone and his father marching his new wife into the house dragging this little girl behind her, my God. Because heâd have died before heâd have taken a penny changing his grandfatherâs money from one suit to the other but now heâd watch his chance to go through the seat cushions in that big chair in the library where Father sat when he read the papers, I mean think about it. Because his grandfather was really the first friend he ever had.
âFine . . . He ran a hand over her knee, drawn up that close to him on the seat there, âtake a nap. Because Iâve tried to tell him, havenât I? that he canât copyright his grandfather?
âAnd the rain, Harry? her voice already falling away, âjust donât drive so fast?
And the rain, steady as the highway stretching out ahead like the day itself, lightened at last now the car turned south off the highway into a road, a byroad, as the âSorry!
âWell my God! seizing the dashboard again, âyou knew that bump was there didnât you? through the gates, past PRIVATE ROAD MEMBERS AND GUESTS ONLY, passing STRANGERS ARE REQUESTED NOT TO ENTER down a ribbon of disrepair prompted at discreet intervals along its way by names on the order of Whitney, Armstrong, here a Kalli-kak freshly lettered, even a Hannahan posting driveways off to the right, to the left turning in at a weathered Crease to splash up the pitted drive âand these dangling limbs look at them, twelve hundred dollars to those tree people they should pay us for damages, drive up as close as you can will you? by the steps there?
They heard the racket before she got out of the car, through the rain running up the wet steps of that veranda to tug at the door as he came round the side of the car for the grocery bag, a suitcase, newspapers, round the side of the house to the tradesmenâs entrance where a door led through to the kitchen and âHarry? in here,
âTell you one thing, Iâd hate to argue a case before him when heâs sober.
âWell you only met him that once Harry, he was hardly at his best.
âKept calling me counselor, that courtly manner and the gravy spots on his tie Iâm not even sure he knew who I was. He seemed to think I wanted to discuss Justice Holmesâ dissent in the Black and White Taxicab case, heâs got total recall for the year nineteen twenty eight when he was clerking for his father on the High Court and now the press down there trying to heat things up over this Szyrk decision, madness in the family and all the rest of it, have you seen that ad for this damn Civil War movie? Based on a true story, have you seen it? All theyâd need is a look in his chambers there, sweltering, cigarette smoke you could cut with a knife, must have been a hundred degrees and that Christ awful life size plasticpraying hands thing of Dürerâs standing there on the window sill upside down like somebody taking a dive, think thatâs his idea of a joke?
âGod only knows, heâs . . .
âIf it is itâs a pretty good one.
âWell of course thatâs why Oscarâs so frantic, I donât mean this mess about Father but this awful movie, you canât blame him. I mean thatâs why he tried to write his play in the first place, for his grandfather, you can imagine, I mean even after heâd retired from the Court he used to dress to go out to dinner and Oscar had this solemn little task, transferring his gold watch and chain and the gold pen knife and change from the pockets of the suit heâd had on to his evening clothes it went on right till the last, he didnât die till he was ninety six and then suddenly thereâs this little boy with his own mother gone and his father marching his new wife into the house dragging this little girl behind her, my God. Because heâd have died before heâd have taken a penny changing his grandfatherâs money from one suit to the other but now heâd watch his chance to go through the seat cushions in that big chair in the library where Father sat when he read the papers, I mean think about it. Because his grandfather was really the first friend he ever had.
âFine . . . He ran a hand over her knee, drawn up that close to him on the seat there, âtake a nap. Because Iâve tried to tell him, havenât I? that he canât copyright his grandfather?
âAnd the rain, Harry? her voice already falling away, âjust donât drive so fast?
And the rain, steady as the highway stretching out ahead like the day itself, lightened at last now the car turned south off the highway into a road, a byroad, as the âSorry!
âWell my God! seizing the dashboard again, âyou knew that bump was there didnât you? through the gates, past PRIVATE ROAD MEMBERS AND GUESTS ONLY, passing STRANGERS ARE REQUESTED NOT TO ENTER down a ribbon of disrepair prompted at discreet intervals along its way by names on the order of Whitney, Armstrong, here a Kalli-kak freshly lettered, even a Hannahan posting driveways off to the right, to the left turning in at a weathered Crease to splash up the pitted drive âand these dangling limbs look at them, twelve hundred dollars to those tree people they should pay us for damages, drive up as close as you can will you? by the steps there?
They heard the racket before she got out of the car, through the rain running up the wet steps of that veranda to tug at the door as he came round the side of the car for the grocery bag, a suitcase, newspapers, round the side of the house to the tradesmenâs entrance where a door led through to the kitchen and âHarry? in here,
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