Part 11
because it's an arm. In the first place, it has to have a name to distinguish it from other
objects. I mean you can't simply--"
"You're just being logical," Teddy said to him impassively.
"I'm just being what?" Nicholson asked, with a little excess of politeness.
"Logical. You're just giving me a regular, intelligent answer," Teddy said. "I was trying
to help you. You asked me how I get out of the finite dimensions when I feel like it. I
certainly don't use logic when I do it. Logic's the first thing you have to get rid of."
Nicholson removed a flake of tobacco from his tongue with his fingers.
"You know Adam?" Teddy asked him.
"Do I know who?"
"Adam. In the Bible."
Nicholson smiled. "Not personally," he said dryly.
Teddy hesitated. "Don't be angry with me," he said. "You asked me a question, and
I'm--"
"I'm not angry with you, for heaven's sake."
"Okay," Teddy said. He was sitting back in his chair, but his head was turned toward
Nicholson. "You know that apple Adam ate in the Garden of Eden, referred to in the
Bible?" he asked. "You know what was in that apple? Logic. Logic and intellectual stuff.
That was all that was in it. So--this is my point--what you have to do is vomit it up if
you want to see things as they really are. I mean if you vomit it up, then you won't have
any more trouble with blocks of wood and stuff. You won't see everything stopping off
all the time. And you'll know what your arm really is, if you're interested. Do you know
what I mean? Do you follow me?"
"I follow you," Nicholson said, rather shortly.
"The trouble is," Teddy said, "most people don't want to see things the way they are.
They don't even want to stop getting born and dying all the time. They just want new
bodies all the time, instead of stopping and staying with God, where it's really nice." He
reflected. "I never saw such a bunch of apple-eaters," he said. He shook his head.
At that moment, a white-coated deck steward, who was making his rounds within the
area, stopped in front of Teddy and Nicholson and asked them if they would care to
have morning broth. Nicholson didn't respond to the question at all. Teddy said, "No,
thank you," and the deck steward passed them by.
"If you'd rather not discuss this, you don't have to," Nicholson said abruptly, and
rather brusquely. He flicked his cigarette ash. "But is it true, or isn't it, that you
informed the whole Leidekker examining bunch--Walton, Peet, Larsen, Samuels, and
that bunch--when and where and how they would eventually die? Is that true, or isn't
it? You don't have to discuss it if you don't want to, but the way the rumor around
Boston--"
"No, it is not true," Teddy said with emphasis. "I told them places, and times, when
they should be very, very careful. And I told them certain things it might be a good idea
for them to do . . . But I didn't say anything like that. I didn't say anything was
inevitable, that way." He took out his handkerchief again and used it. Nicholson waited,
watching him. "And I didn't tell Professor Peet anything like that at all. Firstly, he
wasn't one of the ones who were kidding around and asking me a bunch of questions. I
mean all I told Professor Peet was that he shouldn't be a teacher any more after
January--that's all I told him." Teddy, sitting back, was silent a moment. "All those
other professors, they practically forced me to tell them all that stuff. It was after we
were all finished with the interview and making that tape, and it was quite late, and
they all kept sitting around smoking cigarettes and getting very kittenish."
"But you didn't tell Walton, or Larsen, for example, when or where or how death
would eventually come?" Nicholson pressed.
"No. I did not," Teddy said firmly. "I wouldn't have told them any of that stuff, but
they kept talking about it. Professor Walton sort of started it. He said he really wished
he knew when he was going to die, because then he'd know what work he should do
and what work he shouldn't do, and how to use his time to his best advantage, and all
like that. And then they all said that . . . So I told them a little bit."
because it's an arm. In the first place, it has to have a name to distinguish it from other
objects. I mean you can't simply--"
"You're just being logical," Teddy said to him impassively.
"I'm just being what?" Nicholson asked, with a little excess of politeness.
"Logical. You're just giving me a regular, intelligent answer," Teddy said. "I was trying
to help you. You asked me how I get out of the finite dimensions when I feel like it. I
certainly don't use logic when I do it. Logic's the first thing you have to get rid of."
Nicholson removed a flake of tobacco from his tongue with his fingers.
"You know Adam?" Teddy asked him.
"Do I know who?"
"Adam. In the Bible."
Nicholson smiled. "Not personally," he said dryly.
Teddy hesitated. "Don't be angry with me," he said. "You asked me a question, and
I'm--"
"I'm not angry with you, for heaven's sake."
"Okay," Teddy said. He was sitting back in his chair, but his head was turned toward
Nicholson. "You know that apple Adam ate in the Garden of Eden, referred to in the
Bible?" he asked. "You know what was in that apple? Logic. Logic and intellectual stuff.
That was all that was in it. So--this is my point--what you have to do is vomit it up if
you want to see things as they really are. I mean if you vomit it up, then you won't have
any more trouble with blocks of wood and stuff. You won't see everything stopping off
all the time. And you'll know what your arm really is, if you're interested. Do you know
what I mean? Do you follow me?"
"I follow you," Nicholson said, rather shortly.
"The trouble is," Teddy said, "most people don't want to see things the way they are.
They don't even want to stop getting born and dying all the time. They just want new
bodies all the time, instead of stopping and staying with God, where it's really nice." He
reflected. "I never saw such a bunch of apple-eaters," he said. He shook his head.
At that moment, a white-coated deck steward, who was making his rounds within the
area, stopped in front of Teddy and Nicholson and asked them if they would care to
have morning broth. Nicholson didn't respond to the question at all. Teddy said, "No,
thank you," and the deck steward passed them by.
"If you'd rather not discuss this, you don't have to," Nicholson said abruptly, and
rather brusquely. He flicked his cigarette ash. "But is it true, or isn't it, that you
informed the whole Leidekker examining bunch--Walton, Peet, Larsen, Samuels, and
that bunch--when and where and how they would eventually die? Is that true, or isn't
it? You don't have to discuss it if you don't want to, but the way the rumor around
Boston--"
"No, it is not true," Teddy said with emphasis. "I told them places, and times, when
they should be very, very careful. And I told them certain things it might be a good idea
for them to do . . . But I didn't say anything like that. I didn't say anything was
inevitable, that way." He took out his handkerchief again and used it. Nicholson waited,
watching him. "And I didn't tell Professor Peet anything like that at all. Firstly, he
wasn't one of the ones who were kidding around and asking me a bunch of questions. I
mean all I told Professor Peet was that he shouldn't be a teacher any more after
January--that's all I told him." Teddy, sitting back, was silent a moment. "All those
other professors, they practically forced me to tell them all that stuff. It was after we
were all finished with the interview and making that tape, and it was quite late, and
they all kept sitting around smoking cigarettes and getting very kittenish."
"But you didn't tell Walton, or Larsen, for example, when or where or how death
would eventually come?" Nicholson pressed.
"No. I did not," Teddy said firmly. "I wouldn't have told them any of that stuff, but
they kept talking about it. Professor Walton sort of started it. He said he really wished
he knew when he was going to die, because then he'd know what work he should do
and what work he shouldn't do, and how to use his time to his best advantage, and all
like that. And then they all said that . . . So I told them a little bit."
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