Sperm Swap Blog

you.”
The baby began to squall. John patted it absent-mindedly as
he spoke.
“Seemed the situation was likely to go on forever, long as the
fellow never slowed down. Gianni got to play a few tricks on the
fellow every so often, kid him around a little. One time his
deputies grabbed him off the street and got him drunk, sat around
him in a circle blowing smoke into his face and forcing whiskey
down his throat. Curious-like to see what’d happen. Thought
steam’d puff out of his ears or something. But he only
collapsed–it took nearly two bottles, they told me, nearly two
whole bottles, even though he was only a wispy little fellow.
Didn’t wake up for two days. But once he was back on his feet he
swept Gianni’s wife into his arms and ran up a woods track clear to
Chittenden County with her laughing gales every second and telling
him to mind he didn’t trip over roots.”
“Did you say Chittenden County?” Pete asked. “Vermont?”
“I did indeed,” John said. “The one right here. Old Gianni
was so shocked he crunched his cigar in half. Nearly had the pair
of them killed when they got back. But later on he learned to take
a more philosophical attitude, oncet he figured out there was
nothing he could do. His wife helped him out a little–you know how
women can take your mind off things. Told him no way she can be
happy with a dynamo–just a bang, no build-up, no fuse.
“I didn’t know what to tell him. I didn’t know if this was
the kind of problem you could cure with your standard marital aids
or something like that.
“Oncet I saw Gianni buying the fellow coffee and doughnuts.
He was waving this stinky little Italian cigar, telling him there’s
no difference between them, they’re all brothers. Just that the
fellow got hisself a higher metabolism. He had a point–the fellow
was always drinking like he’d burn up, always kept a canteen in his
belt, always dashed behind a tree every couple of minutes. Gotta
keep the system lubricated. Motor got too many rpm, can’t let it
overheat.
“You buy that? I’d like to, but I doubt there’s a pat answer
to everything.”
“I don’t know,” Pete said. “Ain’t so weird. Fellow in the
Guinness book who ate a whole car or something, piece at a time.”
“Ayuh,” John said. “That’s so. Well, let’s see now~they’d
just made peace when Gianni took his girl back to the Old Country.
I got postcards from the Fontana di Trevi and Napoli and other
places that I’ll never hope to see. Fellow kept on running rings
around me, asking when they’re gonna come back. My little
cousin–that’s my little cousin Geoffrey, by the way, he’d be right
out of high school now if he ever bothered to finish–Geoffrey said
he caught the fellow jerking hisself off in the middle of the
cemetery. He was cleaning up and coming again until he was sure he
couldn’t possibly have any left. Yet he must’ve got a second wind
the instant he ran over her threshold–instantly got back in
Gianni’s bad books. Must’ve carried her right on up to the attic–
“Now I was walking back from the bus station with old Gianni.
He’d stayed for a couple drinks, sent his wife on home before.
When he saw the door to his house was open, immediately he starts
suspecting something. Don’t be crazy, I says, don’t be crazy, you
just got home. You come with me, Gianni says, I’m gonna get that
fella. That’s okay, I says, you can tell me all about it later.
I went on home–I didn’t want no part of it.
“I met Gianni next day, this is what he told me. He says he
waited till he heard them sighing up in his attic. Then he went
upstairs and watched them through the keyhole until they’d wrapped
their legs up tight and strung out their arms across the cast-iron
bedstead. He reached down slowly to his belt and loosened his two
pairs of handcuffs–just so. His wife didn’t even look up when
Gianni snapped the handcuffs around her wrist. The fellow? Well,
Gianni said he knew what was happening, his eyes were always
darting around the room, but he never thought to do nothing about
it. Gianni took his ankle in his big hands–he was a blacksmith,
you know, got calluses all over–and locked it tight to the rail.
Sweat dripped down the fellow’s leg, made a mess all over the clean
bedding. Gianni told me he just held his nose and went out the
door.
“Before their ribs started poking out of their sides Gianni
took half the town, one-time ‘r another, to look at them through
the keyhole and point and ask questions. Hey, bud, I heard this
old sailor guy ask him, ya got a naked woman on display there, all
ready for fellers to look at, and… you ain’t even chargin’? No,
sir, Gianni says to him, never even crossed my mind. Later on he
ground their bones up and mixed them up in his oats. Told me it
made his horse run a mile-two faster.”
“Damn,” Pete said. “That’s some story.”
He looked up and noticed John’s wife leaning against the door,
one hand on her hips. The points of her teeth sparkled, catching
his eye.
“You ought never believe a word he says,” she said, shaking
her head. Her laugh rolled out deep as a growl.
Grinning sheepishly, John leaned forward and slurped up the
last of his coffee. Pete got up to say his good-byes.
John’s wife went hurriedly to embrace Pete, stretching and
sporting her lean body before the old ex-carpenter. She smiled,
showing all her teeth. Pete nodded quickly, ducking his head
before she could kiss him, and hurried out of the house.

– Neil Bernstein
–
nwbernst@unix.amherst.edu