PARTISAN REVIEW
433
Once she tried to kill
1M,
I won't
forget that. Smashed crockery, flour
everywhere in the kitchen, suffocating
dry taste of death, white flour every–
where, everywhere, in my eyebrows in
my mouth my lungs.
...
1968
Dr. van Geel: I
wish
we could figure
out why she says you threaten her on
these visits. You haven't any idea, your–
self? You don't say anything to upset
her? From Thursday
till
Sunday she
becomes increasingly nervous, waiting
for you, preparing for your visit . . . no,
you must continue to see her . . . she
would have nothing left,
if
you stopped.
I am introduced to Vince Ellman.
A brisk handshake. The television stu–
dio: lights, cameras, thick glass, rubber
cords heavy on the floor. Jokes, banter.
This
man is a handsome man. It was
rumored he was going to divorce
his
wife to marry someone, a young
girl,
whatever happened to her... ? The
divorce apparently did not take place.
He was "in love" with two women,
his
pals said. He fell out of love with them
both.
I think about him constantly.
Sunday visit at the hospital: the
flower pots, the other visitors, the cera–
mic saints, the fluorescent-red bows, the
pay telephone booths, the smell of the
lounge, the smell of permanent sickness.
My mother's voice emerges out of the
confusion. "I was very
sick,"
she says.
"Now I am getting well."
