Once there was a wily Old Fox, playing games of chance, eluding fate\u2026 but at some point, the Menace Vultures, the Collect Hawks, the Rhyme Jackals: they could smell it: time was up for Old Fox. Thus they lay in wait for such a time as when Old Fox would outfox himself. They circled him, rabid, fervent, Greed Faced-hyenas…
\nOld Fox lay in wait too\u2014his blind gaze peering out through the eyes, not so much watching, as listening\u2014<\/p>\n
fissures in the ice, ears alerted to the crackle and hiss of scotch on the rocks transforming the life before him into precarious northern wastes.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I. FOX<\/p>\n
An introduction to Fox and the nature of his tendencies<\/em><\/p>\n He enters growling, my appearance in the room startles him\u2014 <\/p>\n II. OWL<\/p>\n falling stars are shooting<\/em> The fashion apparition glides past: the former Society Swan pays her father a visit\u2014 ripples of disdain in her wake. Her young saucer-eyed daughter is left in the outer office. The child with enormous eyes clings to some Fisher-Price accessory\u2014 \u201cToo-Whoo,<\/em> Interesting, the offspring of Old Fox is a Swan who in turn produces an Owlet, The Owlet avoids me. Wise child.<\/p>\n From the Inner Sanctum, matters have reached a predictable head\u2014 as they concern the affairs of state: namely, Monty\u2019s estate and the state of Monty\u2019s mind. The Swan emerges, a parting shot\u2014 Too-Whoo<\/em> Monty frowns, affronted. A swig from the thermos and the Fox and other spirits are let out. He sniffs the air:<\/p>\n \u201cWhat barbarous noises environ me<\/em> Too-Whoo Too-Whoo<\/em> Can you count the Days?<\/em> \u201cTo whom,\u201d snarls Fox, \u201cdo you riddle with, little bird?<\/em> He is talking to a Fisher-Price Toy. Fox teeth bared in something other than a smile. Too-Whoo<\/em> Time to go but the Math Owl is jammed and will not quiet. The Great American rams the accursed bird against the wall: but the prophecies are stacking up into a collision course of folly. Fox falls upon the toy with some vengeance. Swan and Owlet have returned to recoup the missing toy, only to be arrested by the sight of The Great American as he destroys the Owl\u2014flying into a thousand plastic shards.<\/p>\n The Math Owl is still hooting.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n III VIXEN<\/p>\n life measured<\/em> Bianca makes a surprise cameo. The legendary beauty comes bearing lunch\u2014a trolley of exquisite flower arrangements and hidden promise beneath ornate silverware. She herself is all pearls and cleavage in vintage Norma Kamali\u2014 <\/p>\n IV. PYTHIA<\/p>\n All things in moderation,<\/p>\n \u201cA pox on the fairer sex!\u201d The phone rings with some urgency all afternoon. Darkness and snow fall outside, ice clatters in tumblers: divine pronouncements. Scotch pours on with steamy hiss; a very wary, very still Fox crosses a frozen lake\u2014the phone is ringing but his ears are alert to the cracking ice; and the voicemail picks up and the lake is a frosted lake\u2014an icy pond of brittle bone dreams.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Suspiciously he edges for the flask and sniffs it for truth\u2014
\n\u201cWhat are you doing here?\u201d
\n\u201cIf you\u2019re looking for your stash, I already poured into your thermos.\u201d
\nSuspiciously he edges for the flask and sniffs it for truth\u2014
\n\u201cYou\u2019re a wretched smartass, Parker. A smartass\u2014\u201c
\n\u201cI\u2019m not Parker.\u201d
\n\u201cThen who in God\u2019s Name?\u201d
\n\u201cYour Personal Assistant\u2014\u201c
\n\u201cGodsblood! \u2014What\u2019s you\u2019re goddamn name?\u201d
\nThe decision to proceed on a no-name basis is a flogged issue.
\nThe phone rings with some urgency, the sound is intolerable to him:
\n\u201cIs someone going to get that?!\u201d
\nI explain that someone from Esquire and another from Vanity Fair had already called this morning: the small matter of an overdue deadline.
\n\u201cAsses!\u201d
\n\u201cThe asses in question have paid you a thirty thousand dollar advance. Maybe you\u2019d like to put in some hours?\u201d
\n\u201cIf you\u2019re so concerned then why don\u2019t you write the goddamn memoirs yourself?\u201d
\n\u201cMaybe I will,\u201d
\n\u201cThat\u2019ll be a hoot\u2014\u201c
\n\u201cOh?\u201d
\n\u201cHere\u2019s the rub of it Miss \u201cNo-Name”\u2014 You\u2019re gonna have to tell them whatever your goddamn name is\u2014 \u201c
\n\u201cInteresting idea\u2014\u201c
\nI leave him to the contents of his thermos.<\/p>\n
\n answer\u2019d owls are hooting<\/em><\/p>\n
\n\u201cWhat big eyes you have\u2014\u201c
\nThe Eyes pretend not to see me: roaming the room searching out exits from pointless banter. She finds respite in her toy: a preschool counting aid, a Math Owl. Buttons prod, the Owl whoops,<\/p>\n
\n Too-Whoo<\/em>
\n I\u2019m the Math Owl,<\/em>
\n We\u2019ll have fun fun fun<\/em>
\n It\u2019s true!<\/em>
\n Too-whoo, Too-whoo<\/em><\/p>\n
\nAn Owlet blinking amongst the eagles, her<\/em>
\n Pretty eyes<\/em>
\n blinking Sunlight<\/em>
\n traverse well<\/em>
\n the Night<\/em><\/p>\n
\n\u201cKeep it up and I\u2019ll have you committed Monty\u2014\u201c
\nShe scoops up her daughter and leaves.
\nMonty himself emerges, rage in full throttle\u2014
\n\u201cHow do you like that, No-Name? I\u2019m killing myself? No, she kills me! How did she get to be so goddamn skinny? Goddamn anorexic\u2014just hurts looking at her\u2014I used to make the best goddamn fried chicken in all of Christendom\u2026\u201d
\nNow that he has the attention of the entire room, he bellows to no one in particular:
\n\u201cHave me put away indeed, well you\u2019re welcome to try Letitia\u2014\u201d thunders the Great Writer,
\n\u201cbut I\u2019d advise you to go eat something first!
\nYou have about you
\nA lean and hungry look
\nAnd the law mistrusts skinny women\u2014\u201c
\nNot everyone agrees with this assessment. For some reason, the Math Owl has been left behind and by mysterious dint knocks over, crashing to the floor\u2014<\/p>\n
\n Too-Whoo<\/em>
\n I\u2019ve got your number<\/em>
\n It\u2019s true,<\/em>
\n Too-Whoo<\/em><\/p>\n
\n First a nest of vipers, and now a<\/em>
\n A court for Owls?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\n Can you tell the time?<\/em>
\n Can you tell the time?<\/em>
\n Can you?<\/em>
\n Can you?<\/em><\/p>\n
\n Can you number hours?<\/em>
\n Can you measure life<\/em>
\n At its end<\/em>
\n Can you?<\/em>
\n Can you?<\/em>
\n Too-Whoo, Too- Whoo<\/em><\/p>\n
\n Are you aware of my immensity<\/em>
\n and the proclivity<\/em>
\n that birth\u2019d a nation\u2019s undercurrent<\/em>
\n of rage<\/em>
\n and sired your goddamn mother.<\/em>
\n Come here, wretch Owlet<\/em>
\n I\u2019m hungry and I want my lunch\u201c<\/em><\/p>\n
\nThe Math Owl says:<\/p>\n
\n Too-Whoo<\/em>
\n To whom do the bells toll?<\/em>
\n Can you tell it\u2019s time?<\/em>
\n Can you tell it\u2019s time?<\/em>
\n Time to go-o!<\/em>
\n Time to go-o!<\/em>
\n Too Whoo<\/em>
\n Too Whoo<\/em><\/p>\n
\n In forkfuls of truffle and<\/em>
\n bloated caviar,<\/em>
\n crayfish swimming in bitch-brew<\/em>
\n innards of a<\/em>
\n bitch-whale<\/em><\/p>\n
\nShe reveals a deluxe nest of silver, ice and parsley sprigs, \u201cBeluga Malossol, Alaskan white truffle, soupe d\u2019\u00e9crevisses\u2014\u201c
\nMonty\u2019s having none of it, \u201cThank ye very kindly Bianca, but I\u2019m not hungry\u2014\u201c
\nShe thrusts her hip: perfection curves attenuated\u2026
\n\u201cNot now Bianca \u2014I am pressed upon by these vultures of the publishing realm I have certain obligations. Just ask No-Name who bears witness to the perpetual torment. No-Name, how would you best describe to my wife the nature of these predators\u2014\u201c
\nIt is true he has deadlines.
\n\u201cWould you not describe them as most vicious?\u201d
\nThey press most heavily upon the gentleman.
\n\u201cThey prevail upon my talents\u2014\u201c
\nArticles are due.
\n\u201cPlague me\u2014\u201c
\nThe calls being endless\u2026
\n\u201cThey are ingrates through and through\u2014\u201c
\nI suppose they\u2019d like their money\u2019s worth\u2014
\n\u201cAs if I have not given them my life\u2019s blood! Rendered them my soul\u2026\u201d
\nYes everything, save the finished product.
\n\u201cInfernal parasites!\u201d he cries,
\nBianca is unimpressed, she shows him another trick.
\n\u201cDoesn\u2019t work that way around these parts, Bianca. See all these nice things\u2014seafood, pearls, silverware, beautiful wife\u2014 they all get funded by these so-called obligations, so no-thank you ma\u2019am, I will not be lunching with you or anyone else today\u2014\u201c
\nBedevilments unsprung, the legendary beauty\u2019s visage grows dark and poisonous: impossible to look at, she hisses and leaves.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cIt serves you to eat something, sometime\u2014\u201c
\n\u201cIn case you hadn\u2019t noticed, No-Name, I\u2019m off the solids. Why is that woman constantly haranguing me with this lunch business\u2014\u201c
\n\u201cIt is the nature of wives\u2014\u201c
\n\u201cYou\u2019d think she was trying to kill me!\u201d
\n\u201cPoison truffles? You would be so lucky\u2014that would be dying with dignity,\u201d
\n\u201cAnd where\u2019s the distinction in that?\u201d
\n\u201cThe Emperor Claudius succumbed. He feasted on poison mushrooms and later his wife saw to it that he was immortalized as a god. I imagine Letitia would do the same for you. It\u2019s better than her having you put away\u2014\u201c
\n\u201cI might be an old drunk, but just watch me outlive my progeny No-Name!\u201c
\n\u201cYour death would be ultimately more interesting: imagine Monty, imagine the maelstrom that follows your passing: the media coverage\u2014you defining your century: the anthologies released, old works reissued, the correspondence volumed; the PBS special\u2014\u201c
\n\u201cSons of PBS bitches\u2014\u201c
\n\u201cYour likeness on a stamp Monty\u2014\u201c
\n\u201cGod bless the American Postal service! They can start now\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cAnd then the memoirs of the Personal Assistant \u2014a rare intimate account of the last days of a Literary Great\u2014and the women who provide him daily torment\u2014\u201c
\nMonty broods for a minute. Perhaps I have gone too far.
\n\u201cHave I lived so long, No Name, that I have expended my usefulness?\u201d
\n\u201cIt is your life and your legend, Monty; spend it wisely\u2014\u201c
\nSilence\u2014
\n\u201cAre you going to tell me your name?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cDidn\u2019t think so.\u201d
\nSilence, then\u2014
\n\u201cIn your estimation, No Name, have I lived too long?\u201d
\n\u201cAll things in moderation. Nothing in excess.\u201d
\nSilence.
\n\u201cVery well \u2014bring it on\u2026\u201d
\nDutifully I fetch a fresh bottle of Scotch.
\n\u201cHave a drink with me\u2014\u201c
\nThe phone rings, \u201cI should get that\u2014\u201c
\n\u201cNo let it ring. Let \u2018em salivate:
\nThis Old Fox\u2019s not dead yet, you bastards! You hear!
\nWhere\u2019s the ice?\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYou\u2019re a wretched smartass, Parker. A smartass\u2014\u201c
\n\u201cI\u2019m not Parker.\u201d
\n\u201cThen who in God\u2019s Name?\u201d
\n\u201cYour Personal Assistant\u2014\u201c
\n\u201cGodsblood! \u2014What\u2019s you\u2019re goddamn name?\u201d
\nThe decision to proceed on a no-name basis is a flogged issue.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3694,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_mi_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-292","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","category-short-story"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thememorexe.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/292","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thememorexe.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thememorexe.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thememorexe.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thememorexe.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=292"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/thememorexe.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/292\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3703,"href":"https:\/\/thememorexe.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/292\/revisions\/3703"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thememorexe.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/3694"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thememorexe.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=292"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thememorexe.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=292"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thememorexe.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=292"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}