29.10.2014 Views

Falconer+-+John+Cheever

Falconer+-+John+Cheever

Falconer+-+John+Cheever

SHOW MORE
SHOW LESS

You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles

YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.

Falconer 46<br />

to go up and down like a piston. He fell and beat his head on the<br />

floor, trying to achieve the reasonableness of pain. Pain would give<br />

him peace. When he realized that he could not reach pain this<br />

way, he began the enormous struggle to hang himself. He tried<br />

fifteen or a million times before he was able to get his hand on his<br />

belt buckle. His hand flew away and after another long struggle he<br />

got it back to the buckle and unfastened it. Then, on his knees,<br />

with his head still on the floor, he jerked the belt out of the loops.<br />

The sweat had stopped. Convulsions of cold racked him. No<br />

longer even on his knees, but moving over the floor like a<br />

swimmer, he got to the chair, looped the buckle onto itself for a<br />

noose and fastened the belt to a nail on the chair. He was trying to<br />

strangle himself when Chisholm said: “Cut the poor prick down<br />

and get his fix.” Tiny unlocked the cell door. Farragut couldn’t see<br />

much, but he could see this, and the instant the cell was unlocked<br />

he sprang to his feet, collided with Tiny and was halfway out the<br />

cell and running for the infirmary when Chisholm brained him<br />

with a chair. He came to in the infirmary with his left leg in a<br />

plaster cast and half his head in bandages. Tiny was there in<br />

civilian clothes. “Farragut, Farragut,” he asked, “why is you an<br />

addict?”<br />

Farragut didn’t reply. Tiny patted him on the head. “I’ll bring you<br />

in some fresh tomatoes tomorrow. My wife puts up fifty jars of<br />

tomato sauce. We have tomatoes for breakfast, lunch and supper.<br />

But I still got tomatoes left over. I’ll bring some in tomorrow. You<br />

want anything else?”<br />

“No, thank you,” said Farragut. “I’d like some tomatoes.”<br />

“Why is you an addict?” asked Tiny, and he went away.<br />

Farragut was not disconcerted by the question, but he was<br />

provoked. It was only natural that he should be an addict. He had<br />

been raised by people who dealt in contraband. Not hard drugs,<br />

but unlicensed spiritual, intellectual and erotic stimulants. He was<br />

the citizen, the product of some border principality such as

Hooray! Your file is uploaded and ready to be published.

Saved successfully!

Ooh no, something went wrong!