580
PARTISAN REVIEW
under radar, the baby's milk is being boiled. Shit, they say. Another
baby. The champagne has been broken out. And the clouds, the
cirrus, are becoming themselves as we cannot.
Corinne has resolved to worry no more about herself and releases
her chairback. But as she does so, strange and constant pressure exerts
itself upon her kidneys. She glances over her shoulder and sees a little
boy behind her, clutching his mother's wrist, his legs stiffened in fear
against her chairback. The woman is about her age, but puffier and
paler; nothing, clearly, but a mother. But then Corinne hears her
own voice, if not exactly her choice of words, as well as that of Brucie
and them all.
"Don't kick the seat. Didn't you see the lady turn around?"
,'I'm scared, mama. ' ,
"Look. Here're the directions. It says sit straight up and fasten
seat belts. Are we doing it right? Fine."
"Wouldn' t he like some breakfast?" a stew leans over, "or
maybe even a hot dog?"
"I want to go down," the child whines and squirms.
"Sit back and shut up!"
"The engines went off. We stopped," he says, without a quaver.
"That always happens when we're through climbing," the stew
says. "Don't you watch television?"
"I always thought that too when I first flew," the mother said.
"I can't see the lights any more," the boy says.
"Look out the window," says the stew. "See, we're not stopped."
"Do what the nice lady says, and wave to Daddy and Aunt Ella
and Chipper. ' ,
Corinne felt the child's feet relax just for an instant but then
thrust forward with redoubled force.
,'There's a hole in the wing! " he yelled.
"Those are just flaps, honey," the stew said. "We're leveling
offnow."
"He got
that
ftom television," Mother says.
"Hello Aunt Ella!"
"Don't yell, child. Aunt Ella can't hear you. She's deaf."
"Daddy?"
"You promised your daddy you'd be good. Now read the in–
structions again. Out loud this time. Come on, how about a hot dog,
honey?' ,
