Lincoln in the Bardo(41)



eddie baron

His hip, in our pit? Is right against my hip.

betsy baron

His a—– rests right here, against my shoulder.

eddie baron

We don’t mind. He’s our friend.

betsy baron

He’s one of them, but he’s still our friend.

eddie baron

Always polite.

betsy baron

Knows his place.

eddie baron

Exeunting myself to those higher latitudes would, I felt, vault to the fore my more shining aspects, and soon enough (ran my hopes), the Easts, heartily discussing my prospects in some room of constant gleam, would decide, thereunto, to promote me, to the house, and instantly my suffering, which had gauged, gnarred, and vexed, bechiding with sooth my loftish sensitivities, would be converted, and, gladsome shouting amidway, I would obtain that life which, more tender (i.e., less bashing, more kindlike smiles), would, ah…

elson farwell

Assuage.

eddie baron

He always forgets “assuage” right there.

betsy baron

Assuage, yes.

Would assuage my previous unhappiness.

elson farwell

Now watch.

betsy baron

Madder he gets, better he talks.

eddie baron

But alas.

As it turned out.

My previous unhappiness was not assuaged.

Far from it.

One day, we were taken out of Washington, to the country, for the fireworks. Falling ill, I stumbled along the trail, and could not get up, and the sun burning down brightly, how I writhed upon the— Oh.

elson farwell

How you “writhed upon the trail, and yet no one came.”

betsy baron

How I writhed upon the trail, and yet no one came. Until finally, the youngest East child, Reginald, passed, and inquired, Elson, are you ill? And I said that I was, very much so. And he said he would send someone back for me at once.

But no one came. Mr. East did not come, Mrs. East did not come, none of the other East children came, not even Mr. Chasterly, our brutal smirking overseer, ever came.

I believe Reginald may have, in all the excitement about the fireworks, forgotten.

Forgotten about me.

Who had known him since his birth.

And lying there it— Drat.

elson farwell

Lying there it occurred to you “with the force of revelation.”

eddie baron

Lying there it occurred to me with the force of revelation, that I (Elson Farwell, best boy, fondest son of my mother) had been sorely tricked, and (colorful rockets now bursting overhead, into such shapes as Old Glory, and a walking chicken, and a green-gold Comet, as if to celebrate the Joke being played upon me, each new explosion eliciting fresh cries of delight from those fat, spoiled East children) I regretted every moment of conciliation and smiling and convivial waiting, and longed with all my heart (there in the dappled tree-moonshade, that, in my final moments, became allshade) that my health might be restored to me, if just for one hour, so that I might correct my grand error, and enstrip myself of all cowering and false-talk and preening diction, and rise up even yet and stride back to those always-happy Easts and club and knife and rend and destroy them and tear down that tent and burn down that house, and thus secure for myself— Oh.

elson farwell

“A certain modicum of humanity, for only a beast—”

betsy baron

A certain modicum of humanity, yes, for only a beast would endure what I had endured without objection; and not even a beast would conspire to put on the manners of its masters and hope thereby to be rewarded.

But it was too late.

It is too late.

It shall ever be too late.

When my absence was noted next day, they sent Mr. Chasterly back, and he, having found me, did not deem it necessary to bring me home, but contracted with a German, who threw me on a cart with several others— elson farwell

That d—– Kraut stole half a loaf off my wife.

eddie baron

Nice bread too.

betsy baron

Which is where we first met Elson.

eddie baron

On back of that cart.

betsy baron

And been friends ever since.

eddie baron

Never will I leave here until I have had my revenge.

elson farwell

Well, you’re not getting any f—–ing revenge, pal.

eddie baron

There’s a lesson in what happened to you, Elson.

betsy baron

If you ain’t white, don’t try to be white.

eddie baron

If I could return to that previous place, I would avenge myself even now.

Bring down the bedroom shelving on the fat head of little Reginald; cause the Mrs. to break her neck upon the stairs; cause the Mr.’s clothes to burst into flame as he sat at her paralytic’s bedside; send a pestilence upon that house and kill all the children, even the baby, who I previously very much— elson farwell

Well, I must say, Elson—and pardon me for interrupting—I did not have any such harsh experiences as you have been describing.

Mr. Conner, and his good wife, and all of their children and grandchildren were like family to me. Never was I separated from my own wife or children. We ate well, were never beaten. They had given us a small but attractive yellow cottage. It was a happy arrangement, all things considered. All men labor under some impingements on their freedom; none is absolutely at liberty. I was (I felt, for the most part) living simply an exaggerated version of any man’s life. I adored my wife and our children, and did what any working man would do: exactly what would benefit them and keep us all living convivially together; i.e., I endeavored to be a good and honorable servant, to people who were, fortunately for us, good and honorable people themselves.

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