Free Fun With Problems by Robert Stone Page B

his voice. "And fuck the people! A monster conspiracy, right?"
    Eric looked into Taylor's small, very blue eyes with an expression of serious sympathy.

    "That's precisely what I am telling you, Taylor."
    "The phone calls! The whole thing invented by baby-raping motherfuckers. And you, man—who we don't want in this house—I can tell you're one of them!" He breathed heavily. "Second plane! Third plane! Bullshit!" he shouted.
    Annie knew the one thing she could not do was threaten to leave the room or actually leave it. To her surprise and dread, Eric seemed oblivious to the danger. He laughed into Taylor's uncomprehending rage, his eyes wild. He looked desperate until his gaze settled on the fire.
    "It's all conspiracy," he said to the fire, then looked to Annie. "It's all conspiracy, Annie. I can explain it for you."
    Neither of them answered him. Annie wondered briefly if she might hear some valuable information. She thought it unlikely.
    "You guys heard about history being mere fiction? That's the way it's always been. Heard of the Romans?" Eric demanded. "They never existed!" He raised his voice. "It's baloney. I mean there's Rome, right. But there never were any Romans with togas and shit, and helmets and feathers. A fairy tale out of the Vatican Library. They even dreamed up the idea of a Vatican Library. There isn't one!"
    Taylor and Annie exchanged looks.
    "The Greeks! There weren't any Greeks, not ever. I know there are Greeks, but they're not
the
Greeks. I've been to so-called Greece. Plato? Mickey Mouse's dog. Babylonians. Israelites? The pyramids are like forty, fifty years old, Annie. Right, Taylor? This shit is all made up by the government. Once more unto the breach, dear friends—what a laugh. You think people in iron suits rode around on horses? Horse
shit
is more like it. Don't give up the ship? I mean—come on!"

    Annie became giddily curious to hear what he might say next. It was a kind of intoxication.
    "Why?" she asked Eric. "Why do they do it?"
    Taylor watched him with what Annie knew to be a gossamer web of caution he might cast off in a moment.
    "Why?" Eric shouted. "Why do they do it? To fuck up you and Taylor!" He rose from the table and staggered toward their sofa, half paralyzed with mirth. "You're on all the lists!"
    When Eric lay unconscious, Annie half dragged her husband into their bedroom. "You stop where you are!" Annie told Taylor when she had him behind the closed door. "He's passed out and I'm not going to let you kill him in my living room. Forget about it."
    "The prick is still laughing," her husband protested.
    Annie opened the door a crack and peeked out at Eric, who remained unconscious on their sofa.
    "He's dead to the world! Let him be. He'll be gone tomorrow."
    Assured of her control, she leaned against him.
    "Come, baby. Come on to bed, sweethome."
    She got under the handsome white-and-yellow sunburst quilt her friend Vera Gold had done in Boston. Taylor sat down on the bed and slowly undressed. But in a moment he was on his feet again, raging. She knew, however, that it was unlike Taylor to attack in his underwear. He was physically
quite modest. When he was settled beside her she took up her night's reading, which involved the captivity narrative of Mary Rowlandson.

    "What does he mean, 'the lists'?" Taylor asked.
    "Honey? Do you not see that he's a crazy? He's sort of a homeless person, I think."
    "I think maybe we should call Lou. Find out if he really knows her."
    "Taylor," Annie said, "if anyone would come up with such a guy, it would be Lou."
    "I don't like it, Annie," Taylor said. "That conference happens. Then this jerkoff turns up. Then he says we're 'on the lists.'"
    "Taylor, everything is not connected. Shit happens, right?" Annie was not sure this was the explanation for it all. It would have to do.
    In the morning, somewhat to their astonishment, Eric and his bag had vanished. Their dinner table was clean and scrubbed, the dishes all washed and