Let The Great World Spin: A Novel - By Colum McCann Page 0,89
serious.
—You’re fucking with me, right?
—No.
—This a hoax, man?
—No hoax, José.
—Are we on TV? We’re on TV, ain’t we?
—We haven’t got TV. We’ve got a computer.
—A what?
—It’s complicated, José.
—You telling me I’m talking to a computer?
—Don’t worry about it, man.
—What is this? Is this Candid Camera? Are you looking at me right now? Am I on?
—On what, José?
—I’m on the show? Ah, come on, you’ve got a camera here somewhere. Come clean, man. For real. I love that show, man! Love it!
—This is not a show.
—Are you Allen Funt, man?
—What?
—Where’re your cameras? I don’t see no cameras. Hey, man, are you in the Woolworth Building? Is that you up there? Hey!
—I’m telling you, José, we’re in California.
—You’re trying to tell me I’m talking to a computer?
—Sort of.
—You’re in California …? People! Hey, people!
He says it real loud, holding the receiver out, and we can hear voices chattering, and the wind, and I guess it’s one of those pay phones in the middle of the street, covered in stickers with sexy girls and all, and we can hear some sirens going in the background, big high whoops, and a woman laughing, and a few muffled shouts, a car horn, a vendor roaring about peanuts, some guy saying he’s got the wrong lens, he needs a better angle, and some other guy shouting: Don’t fall!
—People! he says again. I got this nutjob here. Guy from California. Go figure. Hey. You there?
—I’m here, José. Is he up there still?
—You’re a friend of his?
—No.
—How did you know, then? If you’re calling in?
—It’s complicated. We’re phreaking. We hack the system … Man, is he still up there? That’s all I want to know.
He pulls the phone away again and his voice sways.
—Where you from again? he shouts.
—Palo Alto.
—No kidding?
—Honestly, José.
—He says the guy’s from Palo Alto! What’s his name?
—Compton.
—The guy’s name is Compton! Yeah, Comp-ton! Yeah. Yeah. Just a minute. Hey, man, there’s a guy here wants to know, Compton what? What’s his last name?
—No, no, my name is Compton.
—What’s his name, man, his name?
—José, can you just tell me what’s happening?
—Can I have some of what you’re on? You’re tripping, aren’t you? You really a friend of his? Hey! Listen up! I got some whackjob on the phone from California. He says the guy’s from Palo Alto. The tightrope walker’s from Palo Alto.
—José, José. Listen to me a moment, please, okay?
—We got a bad line. What’s his name?
—I don’t know!
—I think we got a bad connection. We got some nutjob. I don’t know, he’s jabbering, man. Computers and shit. Oh, holy shit! Holy shit!
—What, what?
—Holy freakin’ shit.
—What? Hello?
—No!
—José? You there?
—Jes-us.
—Hello, you there?
—Jesus H.
—Hello?
—I can’t believe it.
—José!
—Yeah, I’m here! He just hopped. Did you see that?
—He what?
—He, like, hopped. Holy freakin’ shit!
—He jumped?
—No!
—He fell?
—No, man.
—He’s dead?
—No, man!
—What?
—He hopped from foot to foot! He’s wearing black, man. You can see it. He’s still up there! This guy’s awesome! Holy shit! I thought he was a goner. He just went up on one foot and the other, oh, man!
—He hopped?
—’Zactly
—Like a bunny hop?
—More like a scissors thing. He just… Man! Fuck me. Oh, man. Fuck me running backwards. He just like did a little scissors thing. On the wire, man!
—Far out.
—Can you freakin’ believe that? He a gymnast or something? He looks like he’s dancing. Is he a dancer? Hey, man, is your friend a dancer?
—He’s not really my friend, José.
—I swear to Christ he must be tied to something, or something. Tied to the wire. I bet he’s tied. He’s up there and he just did the scissors thing! Far freakin’ out.
—José. Listen up. We’ve got a bet going here. What’s he look like?
—He’s holding it, man, holding it.
—Can you see him well?
—Like a speck. Like a little thing! He’s way the fuck up there. But he hopped. He’s in black. You can see his legs.
—Is it windy?
—No. It’s muggy as shit.
—It’s not windy?
—Up there it’s gotta be windy, man. Jesus! He’s, like, all the way up there. I don’t know how the fuck they’re going to get him down. They got pigs up there. Lots of ’em.
—Huh?
—They got cops. Swarming ’round the top. On both sides.
—They trying to get him?
—No. He’s way the fuck out there. He’s standing now. Just holding the bar. Oh, no way! No!
—What? What is it? José?
—He’s crouching. Check this shit out.
—Huh?
—You know, kneeling.
—He’s what?
—He’s sitting now, man.
—What d’you mean he’s sitting?
—He’s sitting on the wire. This guy is sick!
—José?
—Check it out!
—Hello?
There’s another silence, his breath against the mouthpiece.