playing baseball . . . with a clap on the supine shoulder and âI hope thereâs nothing under that bandage, you could have a nice lawsuit right there. Christina? Iâll be late. Oh and Oscar? He was through the door, âdonât sign anything.
âWhy does he want to see me playing baseball? Iâve never, ow! What are you doing!
âJust cranking your bed up a little, laid out like that itâs like talking to a corpse.
âWell stop it stop! Itâs fine itâs, listen Iâve got five cracked ribs and this shoulder throbs like a, itâs like a hot poker and my leg, I canât even . . .
âI know all that yes, you told me on the phone. Donât they give you anything for pain in this place? And these pillows . . .
âPlease theyâre fine!
âI mean they donât seem to care what happens to you, lying around here in this slovenly mess. Iâve brought your robe and pajamas, at least you wonât have to greet people wearing this shroud looking thing.
âWhy do you say that.
âSay what.
âThis shroud. And being laid out like a corpse.
âWell, you look like youâre ready for the potato sack race, is that any better? And I mean does anyone? come to see you?
âThatâs what Iâm telling you. Last night, a man in a black suit I thought he was a, that it was one of those pastoral visits but it wasnât, it was frightening, he ow!
âWell donât wriggle then, canât you just lie still? Sheâd snapped the sheet straight, tucked in the corner. âWho was it.
âBecause this medication they give me, I think itâs Demerol, itâs as if there are holes in my memory and things that are happening to me are happening to somebody else, because all you really are is your memory and . . .
âWell who was it, a black suit Harry wears a black suit, black raincoat black shoes thereâs nothing frightening about Harry.
âI didnât say that Christina, that was just why I thought it was a pastoral call but he kept talking about taking messages to the other side and I, gradually all I could think of was that mysterious stranger calling on Mozart offering him money to compose a requiem when he asked me if I was a terminal case and offered me money to . . .
âWell my God of course itâs these drugs theyâre giving you, just a hallucination nobody came offering you money to compose a requiem, now . . .
âHe was here! He was here ask the nurse, call the nurse and . . .
âAnd he offered you money.
âTo carry messages to the other side, yes.
âWell really.
âYes well really! He puts ads in the papers, he reads the death notices and finds people whoâve lost a loved one and they pay fifty dollars to have a message delivered by somebody on his way to the other side when he gets there and we split it. Iâd get twenty five for each message I took over and, I mean you would, once Iâd departed, and then he asked me if I spoke Spanish and where the charity ward was where maybe he could find some Puerto Ricans, donât you see?
âI see nonsense, a lot of morbid nonsense.
âThat mysterious stranger offering Mozart money to compose a requiem and he thought it was his own? for his own death? while he was trying desperately to finish The Magic Flute? Did you bring those papers? those notes I asked you for?
âOscar youâre not going to die, youâre just banged up and how you expect to get anything done here flat on your back in the first place, itâs as bad as that pain in your left arm when you were trying to finish that monograph on Rousseau and you were so worried about tenure? Because if youâd had a fatal heart attack it wouldnât have mattered whether you had tenure or not would it? Sheâd pulled forth the robe with its worn quilted facings and something beige
âWhy does he want to see me playing baseball? Iâve never, ow! What are you doing!
âJust cranking your bed up a little, laid out like that itâs like talking to a corpse.
âWell stop it stop! Itâs fine itâs, listen Iâve got five cracked ribs and this shoulder throbs like a, itâs like a hot poker and my leg, I canât even . . .
âI know all that yes, you told me on the phone. Donât they give you anything for pain in this place? And these pillows . . .
âPlease theyâre fine!
âI mean they donât seem to care what happens to you, lying around here in this slovenly mess. Iâve brought your robe and pajamas, at least you wonât have to greet people wearing this shroud looking thing.
âWhy do you say that.
âSay what.
âThis shroud. And being laid out like a corpse.
âWell, you look like youâre ready for the potato sack race, is that any better? And I mean does anyone? come to see you?
âThatâs what Iâm telling you. Last night, a man in a black suit I thought he was a, that it was one of those pastoral visits but it wasnât, it was frightening, he ow!
âWell donât wriggle then, canât you just lie still? Sheâd snapped the sheet straight, tucked in the corner. âWho was it.
âBecause this medication they give me, I think itâs Demerol, itâs as if there are holes in my memory and things that are happening to me are happening to somebody else, because all you really are is your memory and . . .
âWell who was it, a black suit Harry wears a black suit, black raincoat black shoes thereâs nothing frightening about Harry.
âI didnât say that Christina, that was just why I thought it was a pastoral call but he kept talking about taking messages to the other side and I, gradually all I could think of was that mysterious stranger calling on Mozart offering him money to compose a requiem when he asked me if I was a terminal case and offered me money to . . .
âWell my God of course itâs these drugs theyâre giving you, just a hallucination nobody came offering you money to compose a requiem, now . . .
âHe was here! He was here ask the nurse, call the nurse and . . .
âAnd he offered you money.
âTo carry messages to the other side, yes.
âWell really.
âYes well really! He puts ads in the papers, he reads the death notices and finds people whoâve lost a loved one and they pay fifty dollars to have a message delivered by somebody on his way to the other side when he gets there and we split it. Iâd get twenty five for each message I took over and, I mean you would, once Iâd departed, and then he asked me if I spoke Spanish and where the charity ward was where maybe he could find some Puerto Ricans, donât you see?
âI see nonsense, a lot of morbid nonsense.
âThat mysterious stranger offering Mozart money to compose a requiem and he thought it was his own? for his own death? while he was trying desperately to finish The Magic Flute? Did you bring those papers? those notes I asked you for?
âOscar youâre not going to die, youâre just banged up and how you expect to get anything done here flat on your back in the first place, itâs as bad as that pain in your left arm when you were trying to finish that monograph on Rousseau and you were so worried about tenure? Because if youâd had a fatal heart attack it wouldnât have mattered whether you had tenure or not would it? Sheâd pulled forth the robe with its worn quilted facings and something beige
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