I didn't answer.
The squeak of springs and the wandering low-cloud ceiling above me implied that Lil was leaning over first on one
and then on the other side of the bed. The spread was lifted and her upside-down face peered into my sideways face.
We looked at each other for thirty seconds. Without a word her face disappeared and the bed above me became still.
`I want you,' I said. `I want to make love to you.'
(The prosaicness of the prose was compensated for by the poetry of my position.) When the silence continued I felt an
admiration for Lil. Any normal, mediocre woman would have (a) sworn, (b) looked under the bed again, or (c) shouted
at me. Only a woman of high intelligence and deep sensitivity would have remained silent.
`I'd love to have your prick inside me,' her voice suddenly said.
I was frightened: a contest of wills. I must not reply habitually.
`I want your left knee,' I said.
Silence.
`I want to come between your toes,' I went on.
`I want to feel your Adam's apple bob up and down,' she said.
Silence.
I began humming `The Battle Hymn of the Republic.'
I lifted the springs above me with all my might. She rolled off to one side. I changed my position to try to push her
off. She rolled back into the middle. My arms were exhausted. Although whatever I did from under the bed was, a
priori, a non-habitual act, my back was aching. I got out from under, stood up and stretched.
`I don't like your games, Luke,' Lil said quietly.
`The Pittsburgh Pirates have won three games in a row but remain mired in third place.'
`Please come to bed and be yourself.'
`Which one?'
`Any one except this morning's version.'
Habit pulled me toward the bed, the dice pulled back.
`I have to think about dinosaurs,' I said and, realizing I'd said it in my normal voice, I repeated it shouting. When I saw
that I had used my habitual shout I started to emit a third version, but-realized that three of anything approached habit
and so half-shouted, half-mumbled, `Breakfast with dinosaurs in bed,' and went into the kitchen.
Halfway there I tried to vary my walk and ended up crawling the last fifteen feet.
`What are you doing, Daddy?'
Larry stood sleepy-eyed but fascinated in the entrance to the kitchen. I didn't want to upset him. I had to watch my
words carefully.
`I'm looking for mice.'
`Oh boy, can I look?'
`No, they're dangerous.'
`Mice?'
`These mice are man-eaters.'
`Oh Daddy .. : [Scornfully].'
`I'm teasing [An habitual phrase; I shook my head].'
'Go back to be - [Another!]'
`Look under your mother's bed, I think they may have gone under there.'
Not a great many seconds later Larry came back from our bedroom accompanied by a bathrobed Lil. I was on my
knees at the stove about to heat a pot of water.
`Don't you involve the children in your games.'
Since I never lose my temper at Lil I lost it.
`Shut your mouth! You'll scare them all away.'
`Don't you say shut up to me!'
`One more word out of you and I'll ram a dinosaur down your throat.'
I stood up and strode toward her, fists clenched.
They both looked terrified. I was impressed.
`Go back to bed, Larry,' Lil said, shielding him and backing away.
`Get down on your knees and pray for mercy, Lawrence, NOW!' Larry ran for his bedroom, crying.
'Fie upon you!'
'Don't you dare hit me.'
`My God, you're insane,' Lil said.
I hit her, rather restrainedly; on the left shoulder.
She hit me, rather unrestrainedly, in the left eye.
I sat down on the kitchen floor.
`For breakfast is what?'
I asked, at least reversing the syntax.
`Are you through?'
`I surrender everything.'
`Come back to bed.'
`Except my honor.'
`You can keep your honor in your underwear; but come back to bed and behave.'
I jogged back to bed ahead of Lil and lay as rigid as a board for forty minutes at which point Lil commanded me to
get out of bed. Immediately and rigidly I obeyed. I stood like a robot beside the bed.
`Relax,' she commanded irritably from the dresser.
I collapsed to the floor, ending as painlessly as possible on my side and back. Lil came over and looked down at me
for a moment and then kicked me in the thigh. `Act normal,' she said.
I rose, did six squats arms extended and went to the kitchen.
For breakfast I had a hot dog, two pieces of uncooked carrot, coffee with lemon and maple syrup, and toast cooked
twice until it was blackened with peanut butter and radish. Lil was furious; primarily because both Larry and Evie wanted desperately to have for breakfast what I was having and ended up crying in frustration. Lil too. - I jogged down Fifth Avenue from my apartment to my office, attracting considerable attention since I was (1) jogging: (2) gasping like a fish drowning in air; and (3) dressed in a tuxedo over a red T-shirt with large white letters declaring The Big Red.
At the office Miss Reingold greeted me formally, neutrally and; I must admit, with secretarial aplomb. Her cold, ugly
efficiency stimulated me to break new ground in our relationship.
`Mary Jane, baby,' I said. `I've got a surprise this morning. I've decided to fire you.'
Her mouth neatly opened, revealing two precisely parallel rows of crooked teeth.
`As of tomorrow morning.'
`But - but Dr. Rhinehart, I don't under `It's simple, knee-knocker. I've been hornier in the last few weeks, want a
receptionist who's a good lay.'
`Dr. Rhinehart-'
`You're efficient, but you've got a flat ass. Hired a 38-24-37 who knows all about fellatio, post hoc propter id,
soixante-neuf, gesticulation and proper filing procedures.'
She was backing slowly towards Dr. Ecstein's office, eyes bulging, teeth gleaming like two parallel armies in disarray.
`She starts tomorrow morning,' I went on. `Has her own contraceptive device, I understand. You'll get full pay through
the end of the century. Good-bye and good luck.'
I had begun jogging in place about halfway through my tirade and at its conclusion I sprinted neatly into my office.
Miss Reingold was last seen sprinting not so neatly into Jake's.
I assumed the traditional lotus position on my desk and wondered what Miss Reingold would do with my chaotic
cruelties. After minimal investigation I concluded that she had been given something to fill her dull life. I pictured her years hence with two dozen nieces and nephews clustered around her chubby knees telling them about the wicked doctor who stuck pins in patients and raped others and, under the influence of LSD and imported Scotch, fired good, hard-working people and replaced them with raving nymphomaniacs.
Feeling superior in my imaginative faculties and uncomfortable in my yoga position I stretched both arms upward. A knock on the door. .
`Yo!' I answered, arms still outstretched, my tuxedo straining grotesquely. Jake stuck his head in.
`Say, Luke, baby, Miss Reingold was telling me som-' He saw me. Jake's habitual piercing squint couldn't quite
negotiate the sight: he blinked twice.
`What's up, Luke?' he asked tentatively.
I laughed. `Oh this,' I said, fingering the tuxedo. `Late party last night. I'm trying to wake myself up before Osterflood
comes. Hope I didn't upset Miss R: He hesitated, his chubby neck and round face still the only parts of him which had
eased their way into the room.
`Well,' he said, `yeah. She says you fired her.'
`Nonsense,' I replied. `I was telling her a joke I heard at the party last night; it was a little raunchy perhaps, but nothing
that would upset Mary Magdalen.'
`Yeah,' he said, his traditional squint gathering strength, his glasses like two flying saucers with slits concealing deadly ray guns. `Righto,' he said. `Sorry to bother you.' His face vanished, the door eased shut. While meditating I was interrupted a few minutes later by the door opening and