Falconer+-+John+Cheever

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Falconer 88 of this dream was unusually deep and vivid. He asked himself, from his psychiatric experience, if the dream was in color. It had been, but not brilliantly. The sea had been dark and the woman wore no lipstick, but the memory was not limited to black and white. He missed the dream. He was genuinely irritated at the fact that he had lost it. It was, of course, worthless, but it seemed like a talisman. He checked his watch and saw that it was three-ten. The toilet was still. He went back to sleep. This happened again and again and perhaps again. The time was not always precisely three-ten, but it was always between three and four in the morning. He was always left irritable at the fact that his memory could, quite independently of anything he knew about himself, manipulate its resources in controlled and repeated designs. His memory enjoyed free will, and his irritability was increased by his realization that his memory was as unruly as his genitals. Then one morning, jogging from the mess to shop along the dark tunnel, he heard the music and saw the woman and the sea. He stopped so abruptly that several men banged into him, scattering the dream galley-west. That was that for the morning. But the dream was to reappear again and again in different places around the prison. Then one evening in his cell, as he was reading Descartes, he heard the music and waited for the woman and the sea. The cellblock was quiet. The circumstances for concentration were perfect. He reasoned that if he could pin down a line or two of the jingle, he would be able to reassemble the rest of the reverie. The words and the music were receding, but he was able to keep abreast of their retreat. He grabbed a pencil and a scrap of paper and was about to write down the lines he had captured when he realized that he did not know who or where he was, that the uses of the toilet he faced were completely mysterious, and that he could not understand a word of the book he held in his hands. He did not know himself. He did not know his own language. He abruptly stopped his pursuit of the woman and the music and was relieved to have them disappear. They took with them the absolute
Falconer 89 experience of alienation, leaving him with a light nausea. He was more shaken than wounded. He picked up the book and found that he could read. The toilet was for waste. The prison was called Falconer. He was convicted of murder. One by one he gathered up the details of the moment. They were not particularly sweet, but they were useful and durable. He did not know what would have happened had he copied down the words of the song. Neither death nor madness seemed involved, but he did not feel committed to discover what would happen if he pieced the reverie together. The reverie returned to him again and again, but he shrugged it off vigorously since it had nothing to do with the path he took or his destination. “Knock, knock,” said the Cuckold. It was late, but Tiny hadn’t called lockup. Chicken Number Two and the Mad Dog Killer were playing rummy. Television was shit. The Cuckold came into Farragut’s cell and sat in the chair. Farragut disliked him. His round pink face and his thin hair had not been changed at all by prison. The brilliant pinkness of the Cuckold, his protuberant vulnerability—produced, it seemed, by alcohol and sexual embarrassment—had not lost its striking hue. “You miss Jody?” he asked. Farragut said nothing. “You score with Jody?” Farragut said nothing. “Hell, man, I know you do,” said the Cuckold, “but I don’t hold it against you. He was beautiful, he was just beautiful. Do you mind if I talk?” “I’ve got a cab downstairs, waiting to take me to the airport,” said Farragut. Then he said, sincerely, “No, no, no, I don’t mind if you talk, I don’t mind at all.” “I scored with a man,” said the Cuckold. “That was after I had left my wife. That time I found her screwing this kid on the floor of the front hall. My thing with this man began in a Chinese restaurant. In those days I was the kind of lonely man you see eating in Chinese restaurants. You know? Anywhere in this country and in some parts of Europe where I’ve been. The Chung
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FALCONER JOHN CHEEVER
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Falconer 3 Copyright Falconer Copyr
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Falconer 5 eForeword During a writi
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Falconer 7 Falconer
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Falconer 9 but was manacled to nine
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Falconer 11 the guard. But all of t
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Falconer 13 They went up a sloping
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Falconer 15 Farragut’s first visi
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Falconer 17 “What,” she asked,
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Falconer 19 with his, deeply thrill
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Falconer 21 across his face. Her br
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Falconer 23 gamy; he thought that p
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Falconer 25 “Shall we change the
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Falconer 27 She had begun to have t
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Falconer 29 doing in Falconer. It w
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Falconer 31 class. And willingness,
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Falconer 33 churches, at some times
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Falconer 35 convicts, and there wer
Page 39 and 40: Falconer 37 It was half and half. H
Page 41 and 42: Falconer 39 outstripped the human s
Page 43 and 44: Falconer 41 planted with costly fir
Page 45 and 46: Falconer 43 avoid excitement. It se
Page 47 and 48: Falconer 45 water, wiped his ass on
Page 49 and 50: Falconer 47 Liechtenstein. His back
Page 51 and 52: Falconer 49 against the image of th
Page 53 and 54: Falconer 51 will not go to the club
Page 55 and 56: Falconer 53 rise. This clowning was
Page 57 and 58: Falconer 55 twice a week. There’s
Page 59 and 60: Falconer 57 at him,” said Farragu
Page 61 and 62: Falconer 59 much a citizen. As a ta
Page 63 and 64: Falconer 61 find a church. In the p
Page 65 and 66: Falconer 63 shoulder—and I lay on
Page 67 and 68: Falconer 65 “You are not the most
Page 69 and 70: Falconer 67 took the funicular up,
Page 71 and 72: Falconer 69 Farragut was still limp
Page 73 and 74: Falconer 71 fall, Farragut stood at
Page 75 and 76: Falconer 73 forty-five-thousand-dol
Page 77 and 78: Falconer 75 won’t stuff their wiv
Page 79 and 80: Falconer 77 Now watch me smile. See
Page 81 and 82: Falconer 79 you outside the infirma
Page 83 and 84: Falconer 81 University. He would be
Page 85 and 86: Falconer 83 mileage he could expect
Page 87 and 88: Falconer 85 once, when he got off t
Page 89: Falconer 87 ice cream and coffee. A
Page 93 and 94: Falconer 91 one another doesn’t g
Page 95 and 96: Falconer 93 money was. They took Ca
Page 97 and 98: Falconer 95 anything but did I know
Page 99 and 100: Falconer 97 remembered the panic he
Page 101 and 102: Falconer 99 As the day of the cardi
Page 103 and 104: Falconer 101 Farragut got what he h
Page 105 and 106: Falconer 103 target and out the doo
Page 107 and 108: Falconer 105 what we might compare
Page 109 and 110: Falconer 107 He took off his robe a
Page 111 and 112: Falconer 109 It was an August day;
Page 113 and 114: Falconer 111 daughter of Ling Chou
Page 115 and 116: Falconer 113 thought, immeasurable,
Page 117 and 118: Falconer 115 “I don’t know the
Page 119 and 120: Falconer 117 PETER, HAS ARRANGED FO
Page 121 and 122: Falconer 119 squares and put this i
Page 123 and 124: Falconer 121 only get into the show
Page 125 and 126: Falconer 123 churches where a beref
Page 127 and 128: Falconer 125 another and the thin,
Page 129 and 130: Falconer 127 his thighs and his che
Page 131 and 132: Falconer 129 “No, no, no,” said
Page 133 and 134: Falconer 131 cashmere sweaters, sil
Page 135 and 136: Falconer 133 flames and a rush of s
Page 137 and 138: Falconer 135 about your willingness
Page 139 and 140: Falconer 137 was just big enough to
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Falconer 139 Wall, or the Amana Pri
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Falconer 141 with palms. She rams t
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Falconer 143 I ain’t going to sin
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Falconer 145 Farragut had stolen an
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Falconer 147 worse and then she sug
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Falconer 149 believe it. Like there
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Falconer 151 intended for his last
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Falconer 153 from the back. They we
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Falconer 155 the room after a page
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Falconer 157 there’s your piano a
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Falconer 159 before I’ll be mista
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Falconer 161 got no fear, no fear a
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Falconer 163 his grave was no more
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Falconer 165 of some stair. The bla
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Falconer 167 At a distant corner un
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Falconer 169 Farragut put his arms
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