Americana

"Have you spent the major part of your adult life in the advertising business?"

"All but four years."

"Where were they spent?" I said.

"I served a hitch in the army during the war."

"Where?"

"The Pacific."

"Where in the Pacific?"

"The Philippines."

"Where in the Philippines?"

"Bataan: they made two movies about it."

"Do you ever feel uneasy about your place in the constantly unfolding incorporeal scheme of things?"

"Only when I try to pre-empt the truth."

"What does that mean?"

"One of the clients I service is the Nix Olympica Corporation. They make a whole line of products for the human body. Depilatories, salves, foot powder, styptic pencils, mouthwash, cotton swabs for the ears, deodorants for the armpit, deodorants for the male and female crotch, acne cream medication, sinus remedies, denture cleansers, laxatives, corn plasters. We were preparing a campaign for their Dentex Division; that's mouthwash primarily. Okay, so we zero in on one of the essential ingredients, quasi-ci

"Why?"

"Because of the Oriental. Because of the old man standing at the edge of the group of extras who were crowding around the wi

"I don't know."

"Neither do I. I guess that's what comes of trying to preempt the truth."

"What is the role of commercial television in the twentieth century and beyond?"

"In my blackest moods I feel it spells chaos for all of us."

"How do you get over these moods?" I said.

"I take a mild and gentle Palmolive bath, brush my teeth with Crest, swallow two Sominex tablets, and try desperately to fall asleep on my Simmons Beautyrest mattress."

"Thank you."

I took a shower and then called the network and asked for myself, wondering what would happen if I answered.

"Mr. Bell's office," Binky said.

"This is Charles of the Ritz. Our lipstick of the month is salmon puree."

"David, where the hell are you?"

"Give me ten seconds. It'll come to me."

"Come on now, don't fool around, Mr. De

"About fifteen hundred miles from where I'm supposed to be."

"I don't believe it. You're crazy. You'll get fired."

"Tell Weede to send Harris Hodge out there. He's young and willing. He can handle it. I've been hearing good things about him."

"It's your project, David. You've got to be there."

"I'm not going to Arizona, Binky. At least not right now. I'd rather be there than here. But I've got to do this thing I'm doing."

"What thing?"

"The only reason I called was to let you know I'm all right. I thought you might worry if you didn't hear anything."

"I am worried, David. What thing?"

"I'm crossing the swamp. Listen, how's Warburton?"

"He died," she said.

"I guess I've known it for the last couple of days. I hope he'll be buried in England. Did Freddy Fuck-Nuts write a memo?" "Who's that?"

"Weede," I said. "Did he write a memo about Ted Warburton?"

"You shouldn't call him crappy names. Up to now he's been very good about your not showing up in Arizona. He's been backing you all the way. He told Livingston there must have been some unavoidable delay. An accident or something. David, I'll have to tell him you called and that you're not pla

"What did the memo say? Did it say that Ted was a trusted friend and longtime associate and that no man is an island?"

"Something like that, I guess."

"Warburton was Trotsky," I said.

"David, no."

"Don't tell anyone. Let them figure it out for themselves, the bastards. No more memos. That was the only thing that made that place worthwhile anyway."

"Do you need any money?"

"I have enough traveler's checks for ten days or so. I won't be here any longer than that."

"Will you be coming back to New York?"

"I don't know, Bink."

"What will you do for money?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought about it."

"What about your apartment?"

"I haven't thought about it."

"Aren't you going to let me know where you are and what you're doing? I promise I won't tell anyone."

"It's okay, Binky. Everything's fine. I'll miss you. You and Trotsky's memos. The only things that made that place worthwhile."