Again, Dangerous Visions Part 49

TISSUE.

James Sallis

1: at the fitting shop Can I help you sir; you seem to have lost your way?

Why yes, thank you, I'm looking for the plumbing shop. Certainly, sir. That would be, let's see, department fifteen-bee. Up this aisle, turn right, right again at Canned Goods, left and keep bearing left around Magazines till you get to Needlework, go through Hobbies and Crafts and take the corridor down through Exotic Foods, then aisle eighty-three-and you're there. Simple. You might want to pick up a compa.s.s at Sporting Goods-that's on your way, swing back right just past Suspenders, big stuffed bear, you'll know it when you're there. Makes things a little easier...You do do have a map? have a map?

Uh yes. Yes, thank you very much.

Matson.

I beg your pardon?

Matson: my name. My card. Give me a ring if you need any further help. Number's down there, use one of the house phones.

Thank you very much.

No thanks necessary, son, it's my job.

Ah, pardon me. Is this the plumbing shop-down there?

Ha. Sorry, kid, you're in the wrong wing. Up that way. Garden Tools-next floor up. You can take the escalator at Stamp Redemption, elevator at Cosmetics, or walk up just past Archery. Me, I'd prefer the walk-takes you right smack through Tupperware, that'll put a smile on your face.

Sir...Sir? Could you tell me, is this how I get to Garden Tools?

Afraid not, Sonny. You're way off course. Look, you go down there and ask that guy in the pink shirt. He'll show you the way to Power Tools and from there you're okay, got a straight shot. Sure thing.

Ah...Sporting Goods? Can you tell me which way to go-right, or left?

Well, I'll tell you. You could take that right down into Tall-n-Slim, then come back around Canned Goods Imported till you get to Stationery and pull another right there. Or you could follow that left fork there on to Belts and Neckties, work your way over toward Lavatories and go down on the Autolift. But if I I were you, I'd go back along this aisle till I got to Stamp Redemption, then I'd make straight for Lay-Away and cut across Carpets-and-Draperies to Complaints. That's the quickest way to get to Hardware, from here anyhow. were you, I'd go back along this aisle till I got to Stamp Redemption, then I'd make straight for Lay-Away and cut across Carpets-and-Draperies to Complaints. That's the quickest way to get to Hardware, from here anyhow.

Hardware? That's what I want to ask for, then-fifteen-bee?

You bet.

Sorry, but you gave me a fright. You the new helper?

Ah, no. I'm looking for Hardware. Fifteen-bee.

I see...well, you're in the bas.e.m.e.nt, you know.

No, I didn't.

Well, you are.

I see. Could you tell me how to get to Hardware, then?

That'd be fifteen-bee, right?

Yes sir.

Well son, I'm not sure; haven't been up there for months myself. Since last Christmas as a matter of fact. Had to go up for some shopping then, though. Waited till late at night 'fore I'd go up. Near as I can recall...you got a map?

Yes sir.

Let's have a look then...yeah, that's it. Look, somehow you gotta get back up to Coffeepots-n-Cannisters-that's on Level Four about halfway down Aisle twenty-eight-cee, next to Lingerie, see? You can find that by yourself now, can't you, just look for the nekid women. I mean, you can get there with the map?

Well, I think think so. so.

Good boy! Sure you can, that's the spirit. I reckon you'll make out okay; you've got lots of s.p.u.n.k for a youngster, and that's what it takes.

Yes sir. Thank you very much, you've been very helpful.

Don't thank me, son-you'd do the same for me. We gotta help each other out, don't we. I mean, what else is there? Man can't help a guy that's in a jam, what else matters?

Won't you take a seat, son? You look a little tired. Here, this one, with the pink arms. Gives you a good view. Notice how the indirect lighting sparkles on all the chrome fittings-it took four engineers and two interior decorators ten weeks to get that effect. You really do look tired, you know. Shouldn't push yourself that way; there'll be time enough for that when you're older. Take care of yourself, enjoy your youth while you've still got it.

I'm sorry, thank you. I had some trouble getting here.

No wonder, either: that's last week's map you've got there.

O. But this is is Hardware? Hardware?

Right!

Department fifteen-bee?

You bet!

Where they sell the p.e.n.i.ses?

Sure thing!

Finally...

Ah, you'll pardon my asking, son, but you do have a certificate? From your parents, I mean, testifying to your age-and of course notes from your teacher and minister. I'm sorry: rabbi. The law requires it, you see, and...ah yes, that's right, everything seems to be in order. Now. Just what style did you have in mind?

Well, I really hadn't given it much thought. I don't know a great deal about all this, I'm afraid. Uh, what would you you recommend? recommend?

Well sir. Of course it's difficult to form an accurate accurate judgment without knowing the person, I mean judgment without knowing the person, I mean really really knowing him, if you get my meaning. That is to say, the knowing him, if you get my meaning. That is to say, the essential essential him-all the little qualities and quirks that make up his whole, his personality. But judging from your him-all the little qualities and quirks that make up his whole, his personality. But judging from your apparent apparent physique, and from certain mannerisms which I've noted already, I would go so far as to suggest that one of our physique, and from certain mannerisms which I've noted already, I would go so far as to suggest that one of our Sa.s.safras Tangles Sa.s.safras Tangles would not be would not be too too terribly amiss. And it is one of our more terribly amiss. And it is one of our more popular popular models, quite a models, quite a serviceable serviceable style...a hunch, of course-but intuition is often to be relied upon, especially when it comes of long experience, familiarity with the product. The shape of the face and b.u.t.tocks is a particularly useful indication. And the hand of course. style...a hunch, of course-but intuition is often to be relied upon, especially when it comes of long experience, familiarity with the product. The shape of the face and b.u.t.tocks is a particularly useful indication. And the hand of course.

I see. Uh, would it be too forward of me to ask a more, uh, personal personal recommendation? recommendation?

Ahhhh. Of course, I understand. Well, personally personally I go for the I go for the Polish Sausage- Polish Sausage-quite stylish, never out of vogue, the upkeep isn't as demanding as some. Also, formally, I find it compelling: a certain purity of line, simplicity, an essential honesty honesty. The floor manager would swear by the Mushroom Arrow Mushroom Arrow, though, and that's one of the best recommendations you can get-I mean, from a man who really knows his trade, knows what is available. The Arrow Arrow particularly fits the jauntier, dashing sort, I feel. particularly fits the jauntier, dashing sort, I feel.

Uh, could I, do you suppose...

Certainly sir! sir!

Yes...that is is very nice. very nice.

We have one of the finest fitters in the trade. It is exquisite, isn't it? Truly exquisite. A man feels proud, with a product like that,, the result of a totally committed committed craftsman. Exquisite. craftsman. Exquisite.

It certainly is. A Polish Sausage... A Polish Sausage...

Shall I measure you for one then, sir?

Well, I'm not quite sure, I mean I haven't seen any others. Do you suppose I could see a few modeled? Perhaps that would help in the final decision?

Why certainly, sir. Keiris Keiris: the models!

You are most kind.

A fine choice, sir. The Mandrake Special Mandrake Special, in red, with full attachments. Possibly the best-tooled model we make, and we make the best in the business. Each one finished by hand-an absolute triumph triumph of craftsmanship. No: of of craftsmanship. No: of Art! Art!

I believe that I'll be very happy with it.

Yes sir, you'll be most most happy with it. I can personally a.s.sure you of that. You'll find it quite durable, and with care it will bring you many years-even a lifetime!-of pleasure. Simply return it once a month for adjustment; and should anything go wrong-the least malfunction-we will repair it free of charge or, in more serious cases, replace it entirely. Just like a Zippo. happy with it. I can personally a.s.sure you of that. You'll find it quite durable, and with care it will bring you many years-even a lifetime!-of pleasure. Simply return it once a month for adjustment; and should anything go wrong-the least malfunction-we will repair it free of charge or, in more serious cases, replace it entirely. Just like a Zippo.

Zippo?

A cigarette lighter, sir. Like our Mandrake Special Mandrake Special, the hest available.

Ah. I'm too young to smoke, you know. Though perhaps I'll take it up now...

Yes sir, that might he nice. Well, I believe that's everything, then. You'll find lubricant, spare screws and washers-also instructions relating to cleaning, maintenance, minor repairs and adjustments-in the complimentary kit that comes along with the Mandrake Special Mandrake Special. And the usual instructions on how to use it to full advantage, of course. Your parents will be billed to the sum of five dollars and eighty-seven cents; and if you don't mind, sir, I'd like to add that I think they'll be very proud of your choice, very proud indeed.

I hope so. Thank you very much, again, for your advice. You've been most most helpful. helpful.

My job, sir. More than a job: my duty. Keiris! Keiris! My a.s.sistant will show you out, sir: he knows a shortcut. And I believe you will be pa.s.sing Wine Cellar and Smoke Shop on your way, should you like to stop in there for a quick purchase or two before we close. My a.s.sistant will show you out, sir: he knows a shortcut. And I believe you will be pa.s.sing Wine Cellar and Smoke Shop on your way, should you like to stop in there for a quick purchase or two before we close.

Yes, perhaps I will.

It's been a pleasure to serve you, sir.

Yes, thank you. I believe you have made me a very happy man this afternoon.

I hope so, sir. We do our best.

2:53rd american dream Sunday and just like all the other Sundays: clouds hung in the sky like jowls or wattles, sky gobbled up air, its feet moved in the gra.s.s, it was going to rain. The children had already eaten by the time they got up.

In housecoat (brown check, Neiman Marcus) and slippers (gray plaid, Penneys) Mr. More walked into the living room (he looked like a Viking departing his ship) kicking aside the scattered bones as he came, noticing on them the marks, the sc.r.a.pings of teeth.

"d.a.m.n," he said at last, standing in the center of the room, shaking his great sleepy head. (He looked like a bulls-eye surrounded by the rings of furniture bones children.) "I wish you kids could understand how hard it is to get good help these days, then there wouldn't be any more of this. You're using them up at an awful rate, you know: do you realize this is the third time this month? Bedford Hills, Children, is running out of maids." And then, because the speech was over, because it was nine in the morning, because he'd run out of words, because he looked like a Viking, he said it again. "d.a.m.n."

"We're awful sorry, Pop," Tom, the oldest, said. A trickle of blood ran down the hinge of his chin and splashed onto Tonto's palomino. Always a slow eater, littlejim was crouched under the coffee table, gnawing at a knuckle-bone. "But we were hungry, awful hungry. And we got tired of waiting for you and Mom to get up."

Mr. More rubbed thoughtfully, sleepily, at the Brillo-stubble of his cheek and chin; his hand came away scratched to a red rash. "Well, I suppose that's understandable," he said. "But get this awful mess cleaned up before your mother sees it."

An exemplary team (one envisioned now the yapping pursuit, the bringingdown, the snarled devouring) the children set to work, piling bones onto a red wagon, mopping at the blood with Scottowels. Tim, the youngest, leaned in a corner with the towels jammed onto his arms, going click-click click-click each time one of the others pulled one off. each time one of the others pulled one off.

Mr. More turned around three times and went back into the bedroom. The book she had been reading last night was lying open on the bed (stories Jewish and Zen, yang and yin, fat and thin) with a broken back, but his wife was nowhere to be found. He walked around the room, opening drawers and doors looking for her, climbed up on a chair to look down into the light fixture (king-of-the-hill on a pile of bodies and pieces of body, a single live cyclops fly stared back at him and waved one of its eyelash legs frantically: j'accuse, j'accuse j'accuse, j'accuse). Finally, catching a glimpse of taffeta foot from his maple perch, he realized she was sleeping under the pillow. He jumped flat-foot over the foot rail-shouting Hai! Hai! and and Hing!- Hing!-and came down in a crouch on the Beautyrest.

He reached down and lifted the pillow. "The children ate the maid," he said, and dropped the pillow back.

Minutes later it suddenly lurched and fell onto the floor. His wife stretched slowly and turned over (slowly). "Poor Griselda..."she said to the suspended ceiling with all its tiny sound-absorbent holes.

"No, Dear. They ate Griselda last week. This was Olga."

"Poor Olga..." She pulled the covers up over her and he could hear her sobbing down in her dark warm cavern. He dived headfirst onto the pillow, got up and went to the closet, which perforce yawned yawned open. (A thin slice of darkness being closed on, now, by irregular white boxes ranked on the shelf above, the line of clothes anch.o.r.ed with clothespins to the adjustable bar below.) He thrust his hand, quickly, in and-quickly-out: jaws of clothespins snapped, a hanger fell rattling out of the bundle in his hand. (The closet was now in need of a new lower-left bicuspid.) His hand braved the depths of a box and emerged with a pearl-white shirt. He began dressing, diagonally, from the imported clockwork left sock to the hand-st.i.tched right cuff and the tortoise-sh.e.l.l elephant. open. (A thin slice of darkness being closed on, now, by irregular white boxes ranked on the shelf above, the line of clothes anch.o.r.ed with clothespins to the adjustable bar below.) He thrust his hand, quickly, in and-quickly-out: jaws of clothespins snapped, a hanger fell rattling out of the bundle in his hand. (The closet was now in need of a new lower-left bicuspid.) His hand braved the depths of a box and emerged with a pearl-white shirt. He began dressing, diagonally, from the imported clockwork left sock to the hand-st.i.tched right cuff and the tortoise-sh.e.l.l elephant.

He was standing at the mirror, filing down his teeth, when Tim came and stood in the doorway behind him. Tim was dressed in b.a.l.l.s of bread which he had glued all over his body after slicing off the crusts. He looked like a renegade dandelion.

"Okay, Pop, it's all cleaned up," he said. "We saved some for you, though-it's in the frig."

"Right...look, I'm not too hungry. Why don't you kids have it later? You can make a sandwich or something." (Page 119: "Parents must sacrifice for their children.") Tim looked dubious. "We got catsup?"

"Sure thing."

He tilted his head. "Pickles?"

"Big sweet ones." (Page 143: "Often the child is reluctant to accept this sacrifice; a careful air of nonchalance on the parent's part is the most satisfactory, and the most effective, response at these times.") "It's a deal!" and he shot away, out into the living room to tell the others, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs to find his way back.