CREEP BLOCK
241
eyes, after he knows what he couldn't possibly have known all along,
and says: "Thanks, I can see better without them." "I see many
things,"
croons the blind old Village Bore in the Bulgarian movie
that one has been trapped by urging friends into seeing; she turns out
to be the Oversoul after all. "A man of great public vision" reads part
of the inscription on the statue of Mumble McMumble, but any child
can see that his patined bronze pupils stare out sightlessly across
Central Park, cataracted with bird droppings milder even than Tobit's.
I make no apology for my own remark: seeing always seems to mean
knowing.
I was blind, then, in order that I might better see. At any rate,
there I was one day, starting out on the fringes of my own neighbor–
hood, observing the set of many mouths and the pace of many gaits,
cataloguing obscure blemishes (two ancient tracheotomy scars in five
blocks, etc.). Just after successfully navigating a street corner (success–
fully for me, that is: my dangers are not those of the blind), I made
a fatal blunder after all. A phony blindman with a peculiar nervous
twitch, far less sure of himself than such minor grifters usually are,
engaged my attention for a moment. Then suddenly a thing in plain–
clothes had emerged from behind smoked glasses and tin cup, clapped
me on the shoulder, and thrust a crude but shiny badge under my
eyes. I regret not having been able to see what must have been the
magnificent moment when two owlish pairs of eyes atop two wag–
gling, crane necks were attempting at once to assess each other and
to remain apparently vacant.
"Okay, Flurch, I'm taking you in." His manner suddenly ad–
justed itself to his new legitimacy of appearance.
"My name isn't Flurch and I don't even think it's funny."
"No lip, now. You were on the £lurch and I know it. I special–
ize in this sort of thing. Get a move on."
"But Officer," I began as we started moving, it seemed to me,
more swiftly than we were actually doing, "I was merely engaged in
my researches." A gentleman, I had been taught, treats everyone else
as
if he were also one; rationalists are not born, but rather create
themselves; one must not always work at treating others as
if
they,
too, had minds.
"Shove it, now. What do you think, I'm a mark too? And how
much do you pull down? Come on, drag it up."
At this display of technical jargon, I could only show him the
