The Madness Of Love | The Secret History

XVIII

Fear for our own lives might have induced us to lead him to the gallows and slip the noose around his neck, but a more urgent impetus was necessary to make us actually go ahead and kick out the chair.

Bunny, unaware, had himself supplied us with such an impetus. I would like to say I was driven to what I did by some tragic motive. But I think I'd be lying if I told you that; if I led you to believe that on that Sunday afternoon in April, I was actually being driven by anything of the sort.

Henry, I believed, had a plan. What it was I didn't know. He was always disappearing on mysterious errands, usually with Lilith, though I haven't had seen her in a couple of days. Notinfrequently he refusedto answerhisdoor,even lateat night whenalightwas burning and Iknewhewas athome.

Astackof mysterious books, ina Near Easternlanguagewhichlooked likeArabicand bearingthestampoftheWilliamsCollege Library,materialized inthebackseatofhiscar.Thiswas doublypuzzling,asI did not think hereadArabic;nor,to my knowledge, did he have borrowing privileges at the Williams College Library.

Stolen Arabic books? A head shop in Hampden town? I couldn't imagine what Henry was doing, but as disconnected as his actions seemed, I had a childlike faith in him. I waited for the design to manifest itself. Which it did, in a certain fashion, in a couple of days.

On a Thursday night, I was in my pajamas and attempting to cut my own hair with the aid of a mirror and some nail scissors when there was a soft knock at the door. I answered it with scissors and a mirror in hand. It was Henry and Lilith (they were the only ones who came to my room late at night, and always together).

"Oh, hello" I said. "Come in."
Stepping carefully over tufts of dusty hair, Henry sat down at my desk. Lilith, noticing what I was doing before they came, let out a sound that could've been a cough or a laugh and sat down on my bed.

"You studied medicine for a while, didn't you?" asked Henry out of the blue.
"Are you sick?" I said, one eye on his reflection in the mirror.
"I need a formula for dosage." Lilith scoffed.
Henry glanced at her and continued.
"There is one, isn't there? Some mathematical formula which tells the proper dose according to height and weight?"

"It depends on the drug" I said. "You have to look it up in a Physicians' Desk Reference."
"I can't do that" replied Henry. "It's not there."

I leaned against my dresser and stared at him.
"Let's see what you have" I said.
He looked at me, reached into his pocket and pulled out a pale, slender-stemmed mushroom.
"Amanita caesaria" he said. "Not what you think. This one isn't poisonous. But it has an evil twin Amanita phalloides. Death cap." said Henry mildly.

"What are you going to do?" I asked.
"What do you think?" was Henry's response. Lilith scoffed.
"Henry, I don't think it's a good idea" I spoke.
He raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Because" I said a little wildly "they can trace poison. Do you think if Bunny keels over dead, people won't find it peculiar? Any idiot of a coroner can - "

"I know that" said Henry patiently. "Which is why I'm asking you about the dosage."

-------------------

Henry explained to me his plan, while Lilith smoked cigarettes and read my copy of Purgatorio pretending not to see or hear us.

I didn't like that Henry wanted to poison himself too, and I think this was also the reason why Lilith was so mad.

"Thank you" suddenly Henry said. "You've been a great help." He stood up slowly.
"Henry" I said, in a low, urgent voice.

He glanced at me, annoyed. "Anything I do will be dangerous, you know." he said.
"But nothing is any good if you die."
"The more I hear about luxury barges, the less terrible death begins to seem" he said. He reached out his hand to Lilith. "Come on, love, let's go."

She looked at him a bit annoyed, but still reluctantly gave him her hand and stood up. She picked up my copy of Purgatorio again.
"This isn't a very good translation, you know, Richie" said Lilith, leafing through it. "You should read the original. In very great poetry the music often comes through even when one doesn't know the language. I loved Dante before I knew a word of Italian. Good night."

"Good night" I murmured, still in shock from what I've heard. I don't know if Henry's plan or him calling Lilith 'love' surprised me more.

Boring, but at least I'm finally updating.
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