John Kennedy Toole - A Confederacy of Dunces

There had been a flurry of excitement. The wild blowing of the postmans whistle, the chugging postal truck out on Constantinople Street, his mothers excited screaming, Miss Annies calling to the postman that his whistle had frightened her all had interrupted Ignatiuss dressing for the kickoff rally. He signed the postal delivery receipt and rushed back to his room, locking his door.

What is it, boy? Mrs. Reilly asked in the hall.

Ignatius looked at the AIR MAIL SPECIAL DELIVERY stamping on the manila envelope and at the little hand-written pleas, Urgent and Rush.

Oh, my goodness, he said happily. The Minkoff minx must be beside herself.

He tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter.

Sirs:

Did you really send me this telegram, Ignatius?

MYRNA FORM PEACE PARTY CENTRAL COMMITTEE NORTHEASTERN ZONE AT ONCE STOP ORGANIZE AT EVERY LEVEL STOP RECRUIT SODOMITES ONLY STOP SEX IN POLITICS STOP DETAILS WILL FOLLOW STOP IGNATIUS NATIONAL CHAIRMAN STOP

What does this mean, Ignatius? Do you really want me to recruit fags? Who wants to be a registered Sodomite? Ignatius, I am very worried. Are you hanging around with some queers? I could have guessed that this would happen. The paranoid fantasy of the arrest and accident was the first clue. Now the whole thing is out in the open. Your normal sexual outlets have been blocked for so long that now the sexual overflow is seeping out into the wrong channels. Since the fantasy, which was the beginning of it all, you have been undergoing a period of crisis which is culminating in overt sexual aberration. I could tell that you were going to flip sooner or later. Now it has happened. My group therapy group will really be depressed when they hear that your case has taken a turn for the worse. Please leave that decaying city and come north. Call me collect if you want to and we can talk over this problem of sexual orientation that you are having. You must have therapy soon or you will become a screaming queen.

How dare she? Ignatius bellowed.

Whatever happened to the Divine Right party? I had several people who were all ready to join. I dont know if theyll go for this Sodomite business, although I can see that we might use this Sodomite party to drain off the fringe-group fascists. Maybe we could split the right wing in half. Still I dont think this is a good idea at all. Suppose non-Sodomites want to join and we refuse. We will be accused of being prejudiced, and the whole thing will flop. The lecture was not exactly a success, Im afraid. It went over all right right over the peoples heads. There were two or three middle aged people in the audience who tried to heckle me with these very hostile remarks, but a couple of my friends from the group therapy group challenged them hostility for hostility and finally drove those reactionaries out of the auditorium. Just as I suspected, I was a little too advanced for the neighborhood audience. Ongah did not show up, that crumb. As far as Im concerned, they can send him back to Africa. I really thought that guy had something on the ball. Apparently hes very apathetic politically. He promised me he would be there, that schmuck. Ignatius, this Sodomite plan does not sound very practical at all. In addition, I think it is only a dangerous manifestation of your declining mental health. I dont know how I can tell my group therapy group about this weird development however predictable it might have been. The group has been really pulling for you all along. Some are even identifying with you. If you go, they might go, too. I need immediate communication from you. Please call collect anytime after 6 P.M. I am very, very worried.

M. Minkoff

Shes totally confounded, Ignatius said happily. Wait until she hears of my apocalyptic meeting with Miss OHara.

Ignatius, whats that you got?

A communication from Myrna minx.

What that girl wants?

Shes threatening suicide unless I swear that my heart is hers alone.

Aint that awful. I bet you been telling that poor girl a lota lies. I know you, Ignatius.

Behind the door there were sounds of dressing; something that sounded like a piece of metal fell to the floor.

Where you going to? Mrs. Reilly asked the peeling paint.

Please, Mother, a basso profundo voice answered. Im rather rushed. Stop bothering me, please.

You might as well stay at home all day long for all the money you bringing in, Mrs. Reilly screamed at the door. How Im gonna meet the note I gotta pay that man?

I wish that you would let me alone. I am addressing a political meeting tonight, and I must organize my thoughts.

A political meeting? Ignatius! Aint that wonderful. Maybe youll make good in politics, boy. You got you a fine voice. What club, honey? The Crescent City Democrats? The Old Regulars?

The party is secret at the moment, Im afraid.

What kinda political partys a secret? Mrs. Reilly asked suspiciously Are you gonna talk with a buncha communiss?

Ho hum

Somebody gimme some pamphlets on the communiss, boy. I been reading all about the communiss. Dont try to fool me, Ignatius.

Yes, I saw one of those pamphlets in the hall this afternoon. You either dropped it there on purpose so that I could benefit from its message or you tossed it there accidentally during your regular afternoon wine orgy in the belief that it was a particularly elephantine bit of confetti. I imagine that your eyes have some trouble focusing at about two in the afternoon. Well, I read through the pamphlet. Its almost completely illiterate. Goodness knows where you get such garbage. Probably from the old woman who sells pralines at the cemetery. Well, I am not a communist, so let me alone.

Ignatius, dont you think maybe youd be happy if you went and took you a little rest at Charity?

Are you referring to the psychiatric ward by any chance? Ignatius demanded in a rage. Do you think that I am insane? Do you suppose that some stupid psychiatrist could even attempt to fathom the workings of my psyche?

You could just rest, honey. You could write some stuff in your little copybooks.

They would try to make me into a moron who liked television and new cars and frozen food. Dont you understand? Psychiatry is worse than communism. I refuse to be brainwashed. I wont be a robot!

But, Ignatius, they help out a lot of people got problems.

Do you think that I have a problem? Ignatius bellowed. The only problem that those people have anyway is that they dont like new cars and hair sprays. Thats why they are put away. They make the other members of the society fearful. Every asylum in this nation is filled with poor souls who simply cannot stand lanolin, cellophane, plastic, television, and subdivisions.

Ignatius, that aint true. You remember old Mr. Becnel used to live down the block? They locked him up because he was running down the street naked.

Of course he was running down the street naked. His skin could not bear any more of that dacron and nylon clothing that was clogging his pores. Ive always considered Mr. Becnel one of the martyrs of our age. The poor man was badly victimized. Now run along to the front door and see if my taxi has arrived.

Where you getting money for a taxi?

I keep a few pennies stuffed in my mattress, Ignatius answered. He had blackmailed another ten dollars out of the urchin, also forcing the waif to watch the wagon while he spent the afternoon at Loews State watching a film about drag-racing teenagers. The guttersnipe was definitely a discovery, a gift sent by Fortuna to make amends for all of her bad spins. Go peek through the shutters.

The door creaked open and Ignatius appeared in his pirate finery.