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Bullet Park :: Cheever John
Страница: 123 из 131He was intensely contented in the company of his friends-in which he would now count Hammer-but it was a contentment in which there was no trace of jealousy, sexuality or nostalgia. He could remember as a boy- and as a man-friends who were both jealous and possessive but he could not honestly recall having experienced this. In the clubs that he belonged to there was some vestigial, adolescent jockeying for popularity-or perhaps love-but Nailles was innocent of this. This was not insensibility. To ski a mountain in tandem with a friend was, for Nailles, close to bliss but his happiness frustrated analysis. He was genuinely delighted to meet an old friend but there was no sorrow when they parted. His friends played a practical role in his dreams but no role at all in his longings. When they were apart he did not correspond-he scarcely remembered them-but his happiness when they were reunited was absolute. Here was an affection, stripped of all the sentiments that make an affection recognizable. Nailles was very happy, drinking bourbon in the woods with Hammer.
That Hammer planned to murder his fishing companion did not, at this point, strike him in any way as unnatural. Looking at his victim Hammer thought that he would like to leach from his indictment all the petulant clichés of complaint. He knew that Nailles merchandised Spang and he had heard the worst of the commercials on TV. (If you were ashamed of your clothing, wouldn't you change it? If you were ashamed of your house, wouldn't you improve it? If you were ashamed of your car, wouldn't you turn it in? Then why be ashamed of your breath when Spang can offer you breath-charm for periods of up to six hours…) It was infantile to rail at this sort of thing, Hammer thought. It had been the national fare for twenty-five years and it was not likely to improve. He wanted change and newness but he wanted his wants to be mature. Why despise Nailles because he loved the gold cigarette lighter that he now took out of his pocket. The economy was frankly capitalistic and who but a child would be shocked to observe that its principal talisman was gold? The woman who dreamed of a mink coat-Hammer thought-had more common sense than the woman who dreamed of heaven. The nature of man was terrifying and singular and man's environment was chaos. It would be wrong, he thought, to call Nailles's religious observances a sham.
That Hammer planned to murder his fishing companion did not, at this point, strike him in any way as unnatural. Looking at his victim Hammer thought that he would like to leach from his indictment all the petulant clichés of complaint. He knew that Nailles merchandised Spang and he had heard the worst of the commercials on TV. (If you were ashamed of your clothing, wouldn't you change it? If you were ashamed of your house, wouldn't you improve it? If you were ashamed of your car, wouldn't you turn it in? Then why be ashamed of your breath when Spang can offer you breath-charm for periods of up to six hours…) It was infantile to rail at this sort of thing, Hammer thought. It had been the national fare for twenty-five years and it was not likely to improve. He wanted change and newness but he wanted his wants to be mature. Why despise Nailles because he loved the gold cigarette lighter that he now took out of his pocket. The economy was frankly capitalistic and who but a child would be shocked to observe that its principal talisman was gold? The woman who dreamed of a mink coat-Hammer thought-had more common sense than the woman who dreamed of heaven. The nature of man was terrifying and singular and man's environment was chaos. It would be wrong, he thought, to call Nailles's religious observances a sham.