Read Online The Seven Madmen by Roberto Arlt - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Roberto Arlt
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course, what for?" he repeated, closing his eyes. More than ever, he felt he had sunk to a depth that no man had even dreamed before.
"Well now, Mr. Erdosain," said the Captain, getting up. "We'll just be on our way."
"You're leaving? You're leaving already?"
Elsa held out one gloved hand.
"You're leaving?"
"Yes ... I'm leaving ... you can see how it is ... ."
"Yes ... I can see ... ."
"Remo, it just wasn't working out."
"Yes, right, sure ... it wasn't working ... right ... ."
The Captain, making his way around the table, took up the suitcase, the very same suitcase Elsa had brought along on her wedding day.
"Good-bye, Mr. Erdosain."
"All right, Captain, only ... one thing ... you're leaving ... you, Elsa ... are leaving?"
"Yes, we're leaving."
"Excuse me, I have to sit down a bit. Just wait a bit, Captain ... just a moment, here."
The intruder bit back words of impatience. He had a brutal urge to shout at the husband, "You stupid weakling, get ahold of yourself!" but for Elsa's sake he held it in.
Suddenly Erdosain jumped up from his chair. He walked slowly to one corner of the room. Then, wheeling to face the Captain, he said in a very plain voice, which showed a tremendous effort to keep from yelling:
"You know why I don't just kill you like a dog?"
They both turned around, alarmed.
"Because I'm ice-cold."
Erdosain was pacing back and forth across the room with his hands clasped behind his back. They kept their eyes on him, expecting something.
Finally, the husband, managing a pallid grimace of a smile, went on softly in a voice that struggled to avoid tears.
"Yes, I'm ice-cold ... I'm all cold inside." Now his eyes grew vague, but he was still smiling that weird, unreal smile. "Listen to me ... you won't understand, but I have it figured out."
His eyes had an extraordinary gleam in them and his voice grew hoarse from the strain of speaking.
"Look ... my life has been horribly shat on ... mangled to bits."
He lapsed into silence, standing in one corner of the room. His face still bore the strange smile of a man living out a dangerous dream. Elsa, suddenly irritable, bit one corner of her handkerchief. The Captain, standing beside the suitcase, kept waiting.
Suddenly Erdosain took the gun from his pocket and threw it into a corner. The Browning crashed clattering into the wall and clunked hard onto the floor.
"Some good it's doing me!" he muttered. Then, one hand in his coat pocket and his forehead against the wall, he began to speak slowly: "Yes, my life has been horribly insulted ... humiliated. You better believe it, Captain. Don't be in such a hurry. Here, I'll tell you a story. My father was the one who started my long trail of humiliations. When I was ten and did something wrong, he'd say, 'Tomorrow I'll beat you good.' Always tomorrow, just like that ... See? tomorrow ... and so I'd sleep that night, only badly, tortured sleep, waking up at midnight to look at the windowpanes, terrified it might be day already. But when the moon shone through the window bars, I'd close my eyes and say: there's still a long time to go. But then later I'd wake up again when I heard the roosters start to crow. The moon wasn't there anymore, but a bluish light was coming through the panes, and I'd cover my head with the sheets trying not to see it, but I knew it was there ... but I knew no human force could drive that light away. And finally when I'd slept a long while a hand would shake my head on the pillow. It was him, telling me in a rough voice, 'Come on ... it's time.' And while I got dressed slowly, I'd hear him setting the chair out on the patio. Then he'd shout at me again, 'Come on,' and I'd walk right over to him like I was hypnotized; I wanted to say something, but it was impossible with his terrifying eyes on me. He dropped a hand on my shoulder and forced me to kneel. I put my chest against the chair seat, he grasped my head between his knees and suddenly the whip slashed cruelly into my buttocks.
"Well now, Mr. Erdosain," said the Captain, getting up. "We'll just be on our way."
"You're leaving? You're leaving already?"
Elsa held out one gloved hand.
"You're leaving?"
"Yes ... I'm leaving ... you can see how it is ... ."
"Yes ... I can see ... ."
"Remo, it just wasn't working out."
"Yes, right, sure ... it wasn't working ... right ... ."
The Captain, making his way around the table, took up the suitcase, the very same suitcase Elsa had brought along on her wedding day.
"Good-bye, Mr. Erdosain."
"All right, Captain, only ... one thing ... you're leaving ... you, Elsa ... are leaving?"
"Yes, we're leaving."
"Excuse me, I have to sit down a bit. Just wait a bit, Captain ... just a moment, here."
The intruder bit back words of impatience. He had a brutal urge to shout at the husband, "You stupid weakling, get ahold of yourself!" but for Elsa's sake he held it in.
Suddenly Erdosain jumped up from his chair. He walked slowly to one corner of the room. Then, wheeling to face the Captain, he said in a very plain voice, which showed a tremendous effort to keep from yelling:
"You know why I don't just kill you like a dog?"
They both turned around, alarmed.
"Because I'm ice-cold."
Erdosain was pacing back and forth across the room with his hands clasped behind his back. They kept their eyes on him, expecting something.
Finally, the husband, managing a pallid grimace of a smile, went on softly in a voice that struggled to avoid tears.
"Yes, I'm ice-cold ... I'm all cold inside." Now his eyes grew vague, but he was still smiling that weird, unreal smile. "Listen to me ... you won't understand, but I have it figured out."
His eyes had an extraordinary gleam in them and his voice grew hoarse from the strain of speaking.
"Look ... my life has been horribly shat on ... mangled to bits."
He lapsed into silence, standing in one corner of the room. His face still bore the strange smile of a man living out a dangerous dream. Elsa, suddenly irritable, bit one corner of her handkerchief. The Captain, standing beside the suitcase, kept waiting.
Suddenly Erdosain took the gun from his pocket and threw it into a corner. The Browning crashed clattering into the wall and clunked hard onto the floor.
"Some good it's doing me!" he muttered. Then, one hand in his coat pocket and his forehead against the wall, he began to speak slowly: "Yes, my life has been horribly insulted ... humiliated. You better believe it, Captain. Don't be in such a hurry. Here, I'll tell you a story. My father was the one who started my long trail of humiliations. When I was ten and did something wrong, he'd say, 'Tomorrow I'll beat you good.' Always tomorrow, just like that ... See? tomorrow ... and so I'd sleep that night, only badly, tortured sleep, waking up at midnight to look at the windowpanes, terrified it might be day already. But when the moon shone through the window bars, I'd close my eyes and say: there's still a long time to go. But then later I'd wake up again when I heard the roosters start to crow. The moon wasn't there anymore, but a bluish light was coming through the panes, and I'd cover my head with the sheets trying not to see it, but I knew it was there ... but I knew no human force could drive that light away. And finally when I'd slept a long while a hand would shake my head on the pillow. It was him, telling me in a rough voice, 'Come on ... it's time.' And while I got dressed slowly, I'd hear him setting the chair out on the patio. Then he'd shout at me again, 'Come on,' and I'd walk right over to him like I was hypnotized; I wanted to say something, but it was impossible with his terrifying eyes on me. He dropped a hand on my shoulder and forced me to kneel. I put my chest against the chair seat, he grasped my head between his knees and suddenly the whip slashed cruelly into my buttocks.
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