see please see my beatdown Then
this beatdown starts reminding of from
long-ago times other beatdowns
Such as:
Elliott Spencer, under bridge Just
like snap his money he got from re-
turning shit tons of empties Is gone
Who took? Grady! Grady brought
wine After wine, Grady held rock
Gave wink Then: wham Damn you,
Grady You took my damn
Asleep after, pebble under hip O
aching head O so blotto, sleep through
whole thunderstorm Everyone against
me Always All my life Not fair Not
my fault Tomorrow better borrow some
bucks from Sal if I can trick that
dumb bitch Morning and O aching
head Wake up wet from rain The
place to poop is near the old fridge Oh,
please, wine.
The kicks and punches keep ouch
ouch Coming
In memory: from Skanky Trey and
his fuckbuddy, Len From Rhett, boy-
friend of Sylvia From three rich kids
and their shortskirt gals One of who
pours a drink down on me: (Here
drunk, she says drunken ly. Have a
drink, drunk.
Laughlaughlaughs from the other
shortskirts.)
The kicks and punches also keep
ouch ouch coming In real life: from
tightening chanting crowd of Bastard
TurdCreepIdiots.
Ouch ouch ouch.
Through my fingers catch redglimpse
of Jer Pushing guy with camera near,
so camera will see and show What
needs to be seen and I guess shown?
Then comes so much real-life beat
down I put head down with eyes closed
and hands over ears so as not to hear
the thump, crack, ouch of it all.
Y
ou are the man, says Jer.
Hope so, I say.
Then open my one eye that still can.
Am not in Room Valiant At all
Cat hops uptop fancy book pile.
As you seem to be noting, 89, Meg
says, this is not Room Valiant.
That cat? says Kennedy B. Your cat.
Those pictures, on that bookshelf?
says Meg. You, when young.
Meant to be you when young, says
Kennedy B.
This is a rental, we rented it, says Jer.
And created those pictures using
FaceBlend, says Meg.
I love this one, says Kennedy B. You
look so happy to be hunting.
With your son, says Meg.
Greg, Jr., says Jer.
It’s like a game, Meg says. We’re play-
ing that, all along, all your life, this has
been your home. Greg’s home. Cool, right?
89, have we done wino? says Jer.
Jer shows HandiPic for
wino: Guy in smushed
tophat, “X” for eyes, red
cheeks, lying on side under
lamp pole, fancy man in
not-smushed tophat steps
over him, holding own nose.
So, I’m just going to say
it? Jer says. That was you.
Most of your life. Spent a
lot of time shitfaced down
by the river. No kids, no wife, hadn’t
worked in fifteen years. In and out of jail.
Big wino. Disgusting drunk.
And who wants to be that guy? says
Meg. You know? I mean, good riddance.
To bad riddance, says Kennedy B.
What a victory, though, right, when
you think of it? says Jer. Old worthless
wino who, in his life, did a lot of regret-
table things, was a burden to all? Now,
late in the game, gets a chance to start
doing some pretty wonderful things?
Even on a national basis? says Ken-
nedy B.
Do you have any idea how many peo-
ple all over the country watched you get
your butt beat the other day? says Meg.
Two million, says Kennedy B. As
of noon.
Two million folks, looking afresh at
our cause, says Meg. What a blessing.
For the movement.
For which we work, says Kennedy B.
By whom we are contracted, says Jer.
In which we very much believe,
says Meg.
Anyhoo, says Kennedy B.
Onward to Job Four, says Meg.
My eye goes wide.
Oh, poor sweetie, no, Kennedy B.
says. No more fighting. You’re done with
all that.
Job Four is going to be you lying
right here, says Meg. As you are.
Sitting up, if possible, says Kennedy B.
Talking to a nice lady curious about
you and your life, Meg says.
Your life as Greg, says Jer.You are Greg, will continue to be
Greg, a simple nice old guy who, hav-
ing retired from a life of teaching math
at a local community college, grew sad
watching your country go in all the wrong
directions and, as a sort of late-life hobby
or attempt to pay back all that was given
to you by this wonderful nation, became
active in politics and, accordingly, felt
and still do feel compelled to join these
protests in order to let your
feelings be known, says
Kennedy B.
We may want to go a
little simpler with that,
says Jer.
And if I touch my hat,
act sick, says Meg. Excuse
yourself, get up, go to the
bathroom.
Does he even know
where the bathroom is? says Kennedy B.
I’ll be wearing a hat, Meg says to me.
Then. At that time.
Plus can he walk? says Kennedy B.
KTOD’s here in ten, says Jer. So.S
oon our Prep is set I even have
bathrobe.
The door knocks.
He’s so tired, Meg says to a lady com-
ing in with second lady with camera.
We may need to keep this brief, says
Jer.
He took a crazy bad beating, Meg says.
As you saw, says Kennedy B.
As all of us saw, Jer says.
As the whole world saw, Meg says.
Nice old guy trying to voice his views,
gets his free speech denied?
What have we come to? says Ken-
nedy B.
Just wrong, says Meg.
Lady: And you folks are?
Niece, says Meg.
Niece also, says Kennedy B.
Nephew, says Jer.L
ights in my face.
Blink, blink.
Lady gives me look of love And
her voice changes to smooth and
sympathy.
Tell me, Greg, she says. Why, at your
age, would you feel compelled to join
the protests? When you could be sit-
ting comfortably here in this lovely
home, enjoying your retirement, or gar-
dening, if you enjoy gardening, as soTHENEWYORKER,AUGUST19, 2019 55