Milton, Milton, he told himself, leave us by all means get back to dear old Miltie. Where was I? What good does it do to know where I was? I’ll have to start from scratch. My memory works that way, from beginning to end, from start to finish, from inception to conclusion. When I get through with these notes, they’ll be photographed on my mind, but to get to any one part of them, I’ll have to start from the beginning and leaf through the photographs until I get to the section I want. Is that total recall? If so, let’s total recall away.
III. Beelzebub’s answer
A. Addresses him not as equal
B. Admits that S. was glorious leader, etc.
C. But — after all — we are defeated, and—
“Do you think the pastrami could have given me that stomach-ache?”
“What?” Bud asked.
“The pastrami we bought. Remember we got up in the middle of the night and made sandwiches?”
“Oh. Oh, yes.”
“Just thinking of it, I feel sick again. I’m sure it was a novena, though. My mother probably used up three sets of prayer beads that night. I’ll bet she prayed her fingers to the bone.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.”
“Look, I don’t want to bother you. Go ahead, study.”
B. Admits that S. was glorious leader, etc.
C. But — after all — we are defeated, and that’s a fact we’ve got to face
IV. Satan’s characteristics
A. Courageous
B. Skillful leader and orator
“You know, I can still remember the color of her pajamas.”
“Yeah?” Bud said absently.
“Pink. Connie’s, I mean. Hey, that was her name, Connie. And yours was Marcia. Pink silk with that little blue flower design on the pocket, right where her left — say, she had a remarkable set, you know?”
“Uhm,” Bud said.
“And smooth, just like all the rest of her. She had the smoothest skin in all the world, smoother even than— Oh, say, I’m interrupting you. I’m sorry.”
“S’all right,” Bud said.
A. Courageous
B. Skillful leader and orator
C. Good psychologist
“What always amazes me is how fast we set that thing up. I mean, we’d only met the chicks that afternoon. Fatal charm, I guess it was.”
D. Heart, enthusi—
C. Good psychologist
D. Heart, enthusiasm
E. Persistence
“I’ll never forget that night, all right. That was really something to—”
“Say, Andy, I hate to—”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Really, I’m sorry. I won’t say another word. Go ahead. You don’t mind if I pace a little, though, do you? It sounds stupid as hell, but I get restless, you know, and I have to pace. Is that all right?”
“Yes, fine. Sure, pace.”
“Okay, thanks. And I won’t say another word. I mean, this is getting like the comic bit where one guy’s trying to figure out the atomic bomb, and the other guy keeps busting his nuts, isn’t it?”
Bud sighed. “A little.”
“Well, not another word out of me. That’s a promise.”
“Fine,” Bud said.
A. Courageous
B. Skillful leader and orator
Satan’s characteristics, A courageous B skillful leader and orator good psychologist heart enthusiasm persistence Andy pacing pacing behind me courageous skillful leader and orator good psychologist good god! is he going to pace all goddamn night?
Satan’s characteristics, now let’s get them pat this time and then shove off, we’re spending the whole damn night on Satan’s characteristics, Satan’s characteristics: Courage, all right, courage, courage, skillful leader and orator, orator, orator, good psychologist, good pacer, pacer, pacing, pacing, back and forth, back and forth, imagine remembering the color of Connie’s pajamas, could he remember the color of Marcia’s? Marcia was wearing, wearing, pacing, pacing, white background with floral design in red and blue, no, not flowers, something, a small design, bells, were they bells, in red and blue, the small rip in her pajama pants, imagine Andy’s remembering a thing like the color, a tiny tear, still it did show her flesh underneath, and, oh, she had been so good psychologist, good psychologist, psychologist, heart, enthusiasm, heartburn it was it probably was, Andy’s stomach-ache, heartburn from the pastrami, but the pastrami had been good, and the coffee perking on the small electric grill, the deep aroma of it in the small room, and the girls in their pajamas, and Marcia bringing him the sandwich, and then sitting next to him, the curve of her backside tight against his leg, as if they were all married and at some lodge in the mountains and not in a friend’s borrowed cold-water flat on First Avenue where...
Satan’s goddamn characteristics are, my friend, courage, oh, yes, a courageous son-of-a-bitch Satan, a courageous clever little devil, why doesn’t Dr. Mason drop dead some cold and eerie night? Skillful leader and orator, which Dr. Mason is not, I’ll never memorize these, not with him pacing that way, courageous, skillful leader and orator, damn Satan, let’s go to something else, no let’s stick with Satan because she’s just liable to pull that one out of the hat, the bitch — in P.L., using the entire text as a basis for your discussion, evaluate the character of Satan, 60 per cent.
Satan, Satan, satin it was, not silk Connie was wearing, pink satin, Andy should have remembered that, hell, he was the one who undressed her, smooth flesh he said, like satin, Satan...
Pacing, pacing, Satan, Satan, back and forth, pacing, oh, Christ, I’ll never get this done, never in a million years, why did I take him in, why, why, why?
“Can I turn off this light on the end table, Bud? I think I’d like to lie down for a while.”
“Yes, certainly. Go right ahead.”
He heard the click of the light behind him. There was only the circle of light on the table then, and the open notebook before him.
Thank God, he thought.
You haven’t got me yet, Dr. Mason, you old prostitute!
3
The circle of light on the table circumscribed a world of Good and Evil, a world of Heaven and Hell, a world of naked Eves and slithering serpents. On either side of the table, the window curtains fluttered with the early morning breeze, and through the windows the city slept, or tossed restlessly, carried on the lullaby of hushed automobile tires and silently blinking neons. There was nothing beyond the circle of light as far as Bud was concerned. The circle of light was a harsh core of concentration. His own handwriting stared up at him from the lined pages of the spiral notebook, the indelible blue of the ball-point penmanship recording itself on his knotted brain. There were two levels to his concentration. One was a completely automatic level, upon which the major part of his effort descended. This level concerned itself with the purely robotlike task of memorization. The second level was a conscious needle that stabbed at him spasmodically, a needle the prick of which reminded him of the importance of these final examinations.