The End of a Primitive Read Online Free PDF Page A

he went back to bed.
    “That ought to knock me out,” he thought.
    But he dreamed again.
    He dreamed he was at a banquet, sitting near the end of the table where two very pretty young blonde women sat side by side. But there was an empty space between his seat and the end which hindered him from speaking to them. Then the man on his right stood up and moved because he didn’t like his neighbour on the other side, and that left him sitting at the banquet table between the two empty spaces. He felt suddenly isolated. He was vaguely aware that he was the only black at the banquet, but that didn’t have anything to do with the feeling of isolation until a very well-dressed, very handsome, very assured black magazine editor, whom he knew quite well, passed by without speaking and took a place at the head of the table. Then he thought, “Jesus Christ!—Even that son of a bitch ignores me!” But when the banquet was over and the guests began to leave, a black woman with a putty-coloured complexion, short straightened hair, and several strange embossed scars down her cheeks, but very well-dressed in a rose-beige evening gown and a black satin cape, stopped for a moment beside his chair and smiled at him. “Don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll get one to go. Just keep on trying.” He felt so grateful he wanted to kiss her hand, but she had gone on down the stairs and he saw her getting into an expensive foreign car with the magazine editor who had ignored him.
    “Jesse Robinson!” he muttered in his sleep. His voice was so vicious it made the name a curse. “You goddam bastard! You goddam fool!” he ground out between clenched teeth. His body threshed about in a wild fury; his right fist lashed out in a rage. Then a blinding flash exploded in his brain like a flash of lightning and he cried, “Unhn!” His body became still but he began to grind his teeth like the muted sound of rats gnawing.
    Then he dreamed he went down the stairs from the banquet room to a small parking lot where many cars were jammed together, trying to get away. There was no order and the cars were running into one another denting fenders and locking bumpers. In the centre of the parking lot was a big bus, and a short squat man stood at one side leisurely washing it. Suddenly there was a commotion and a big wild-eyed man came around from behind the bus and began cursing the short squat man in a loud, uncontrolled voice. “I’ll kick out your teeth!” he shouted. A crowd of men were standing about and someone said, “He’s drunk.” The short squat man backed away and several of the bystanders tried to restrain the big wild drunken man. But he broke loose from them and kicked viciously at the short squat man’s face. His foot missed by inches but his shoe flew off from the force of the kick and went over the heads of the crowd and out of sight like a mightily powered line drive clearing the bleachers in Yankee Stadium. The big wild man was so enraged that he had missed, he wound up with his right fist and hit the short squat man in the mouth, despite the fact that six or seven men were trying to restrain him. Then he wound up his left fist and hit him again. Everyone thought it was time for the short squat man to run. But instead he ducked down and hit the big wild drunken man in the stomach with a long looping right as hard as he could. “Oof!” the breath went out of the big man as he doubled forward. But he straightened up instantly, more enraged than ever, looking to see where the short squat man had gone. Now was really the time to run! everyone thought. But the short squat man had got behind the big wild man and he picked up a heavy oak chair and hit him across the back of the head as hard as he could hit. “Jesus Christ!” the big wild drunken man howled painfully like a wounded dog and fell stretched out as if dead on his back. Jesse laughed in his sleep and muttered, “Damn right!” Then he dreamed the sweetest dream. He was