One Mukluk(continued) Several weeks after Adams's disappearance, on a Sunday
morning TV discussion show, reporters interviewed the exceedingly pigeon-toed
Reverend Oughtnot Dreadnot about Adams's disappearance. Dreadnot was
well known around Washington circles as a strong believer in reincarnation,
safety pins and homogenized milk. The reporters took Dreadnot to be
Adams's minister, because that's how Dreadnot described himself, though
Adams had never mentioned anything like that to me. "No, no, it's not Dreadnot Oughtnot, it's Oughtnot
Dreadnot," Dreadnot said. "Though you can call me Harold,
which is my wife's middle name." "OK, Harold, what can you tell us about Adams?" "Thanks, Harold," the host said at the end of
the show, "thanks very much for joining us here today." I later called Dreadnot and told him that I had seen him
on TV. I tried to explain that Adams had never been in Vietnam, that,
like me, he had gone to graduate school with the explicit goal of avoiding
the draft and not going to Vietnam. But he didn't seem to want to listen
to me. Instead, he persisted in asking me over and over again the same
rather odd and irritating question: "Mr. Heigh, if Adams was Jesus
Christ, what does that make you?" I didn't know quite how to respond and, in truth, I didn't
really know exactly what he meant, but his question seemed to insinuate
something about my relationship with Adams which I did not particularly
like. I didn't know exactly what it insinuated, but the fact that it
insinuated anything at all about our relationship is what bothered me.
Finally, I said to Dreadnot that I didn't think, if Adams was Jesus
Christ, it made me anything, because Adams was not Jesus Christ.
Period. On the eleven o'clock news about four weeks after Adams's
disappearance another professed witness was interviewed. "And you were just...," the reporter asked. "And you are sure this was in Washington?" the
reporter followed up. "Yeah, I'm sure. Or maybe Baltimore. But I know it
was somewhere in this area." Demmo Klunkk, a close friend of Adams's who went crazy
one day about a year before and had become the notorious Monster of
the Marmalade, hiding out in the numerous basements, sub-basements and
sub-sub-basements of the Marmalade and perpetrating all sorts of devious
tricks on DOST employees, including blowing up urinals at unexpected
times, sent out an e-mail message to all DOST staff, indicating that
all mayhem at the Marmalade would cease for one full week in honor of
Adams's passing. And all mayhem did cease. However, the Monster resumed his illicit ways with a bang
exactly one week from the time the e-mail message was sent. When Security
arrived at the DOST Walk of Fame on the seventh floor Secretarial suite
of the Marmalade the next morning, they found all the portraits of previous
DOST secretaries mischievously disfigured. All the male secretaries
had moustaches, of one kind or another, added to their faces, and Mabel
Wretch, DOST's first female Secretary, had a goatee, in the form of
a pubic triangle (with little curly, dark wiry hair), painted on hers.
I got a call one day about four months after Adams disappeared.
It was from a person named Rodney Numbnuts. He said he was Adams's supervisor,
who Adams was unable to locate during his more than 20 years at DOST.
Ironically enough, Numbnuts said he'd been trying to find Adams for
many, many years, but without any success. Apparently, he thought Adams's
office was in corridor "I" and not "J," and he thought
Adams spelled his name with two "d's" like Jane Addams of
Hull House fame, and not just one. Why he would think that, I have no
idea. It didn't make much difference, for two weeks later the numbnut
Numbuts retired. I didn't have a clue as to what Benedict meant. I might make mention of the fact that, just before his
disappearance, Adams had finally compiled two so-called "survival"
lists which he had worked on for quite some time. One was for things
he needed to do in order to get "in" at DOST find out
who he worked for, what he was supposed to do, how he could feel that
he was making a substantive contribution. He also made another list
for things he needed to do in order to get "out" to
leave government, find a responsible, meaningful job in the private
sector in the Washington area (or at least "something approaching"
a responsible, meaningful job), set up a new line of work. It took Adams about a year, at least a year, as I recall,
to compile the lists. He was quite proud when he had finally completed
them, and he promptly shared them with me. But I noticed right away,
and then he did, too, a peculiar characteristic of the lists. Each of
the lists for the "in" and the "out" was exactly
the same the same number of things to do, described in the same
way, and in the exact same order. How peculiar that was, I thought at
the time. And I still think so today. A major problem arose, not unlike the problem with Adams's
office space, when the Department tried to transfer Adams's responsibilities
(he was a GS-15, the highest level one could achieve on the federal
government career ladder) to someone else at DOST. According to DOST
ABSURDLY RIDICULOUS AND RIDICULOUSLY ABSURD TRANSFER OF GS-15 WORK RESPONSIBILITY
FROM ONE GS-15 TO ANOTHER POLICY (DOST Order 62121-B) "the responsibility
for the work of any GS-15 employee, or anyone who wants to be a GS-15
employee, or anyone who was a GS-15 employee and who wants to be a GS-15
employee again and anyone who was not a GS-15 and doesn't ever want
to be a GS-15 employee again and by definition can't be a GS-15 employee
again because he or she was never one in the first place, and any other
people either working at DOST or not working there, and their friends
and their relatives and their friends's relatives and their relatives's
friends, and anybody else who, by some accident, coincidence, or sheer
bad luck, can no longer shoulder his, her or their responsibility, or
any responsibility for that matter, may, upon second thought, be transferred
to any other DOST employee or personage so described above, or even
those not described above, upon certification that the transferee and
the transferor have the same Aunt Eloise in common; and there shall
be no exceptions to this rule except those exceptions that are deemed
truly ridiculous." |