JERRY BUMPUS
"The one you said was rather good."
"Oh. No."
Another quote. "That one? "
trNo."
115
Lutz quoted from three, four-a dozen, going faster and faster, no
longer pausing to question Abbott, the words banging out so rapidly
Lutz was clearly straining himself, his sweating face steaming and
turning red, then maroon, his forehead bulging, his eyes glistening,
until the words became one continuous endless word, the be-all and
end-all word, a trillisyllabic blared at the top of his lungs.
His mouth clamped shut. The echo of words subsided like tin cans
rolling down a tin hill.
Then Lutz laughed. A bursting karoomp followed by sniggers.
And he did it again. "I say ... " But he couldn't say, as more laughter
bludgeoned forth. He gulped down some wine but spewed it out on
another burst of laughter.
Through it all Abbott stared at him in that firm, stern way of a
person , or dog, seeing all the way into another 's heart, clear to the
bottom of the grim little business. He let Lutz go on with it. Why not?
It was clear by his look that he was satisfied that he had got Lutz, the
whole works , or at least all he needed.
Lutz tried to stop laughing. He even tried some quick grief,
coming out with huge egg shaped crocodile tears and some crocodile
sobs, but just when he thought he had things under control out came
another karoomp.
Shaking his head, shrugging, extending his hands palms up
helpless and culpable, Lutz stood and tried
to
get out a single word of
apology but couldn't for the laughter. As he backed out into the hall,
still karoomping and sputtering, he expected Abbott to at last speak.
But he said nothing. And as Lutz weaved down the hall, he realized he
knew nothing about Hershel Abbott that he hadn 't known before,
unless one viewed the dog suit as something of the inner fellow .. . kar–
oomp!
But Lutz wasn 't put off by Abbott's privacy. Actually he was
euphoric. For one reads an author as he insists on being read, patiently
allowing all the feints, dodges, and round abouts, until one finds
himself winding with increasing agility through all the author 's
convolutions and permutations and ultimately enjoying, quite as
much as an actual face with actual eyes and lips, the disguises of sky,
rock, cloud-and dog-which the author dons as he becomes his work.
