The Belly of an Architect Page #2

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And you're very young to be entrusted | with such an elderly husband.

Excuse me.

There is a story | that the architect of this building...

spent all the money on the marble. | He didn't like wood.

And he skimped on the carpentry.

The real reason was that | he hated carpenters, especially Joseph.

I suspect that he didn't believe | in the virgin birth.

He could not reconcile himself...

to the fact Joseph was 40 | and the Virgin Mary was 14.

About the same difference | as you and your wife...

isn't it, Mr. Kracklite?

Approximately, yes.

But I thought that all Catholics | believed in the virgin birth.

Not outside of marriage.

Do you believe in the virgin birth, | Mr. Kracklite?

At this moment, Signor Caspetti, | I'll settle for any kind of birth.

I've had several miscarriages.

Kracklite gets bored or impatient...

or disillusioned with his projects...

and I get anxious.

We could both be accused | of unsatisfactory delivery.

Christ!

Did you see that?

Now watch this.

Kracklite is going to be honored | by Roman publicity.

Who is this man?

May I introduce to you | Signor Salvatore Battistino...

the Secretary | of the Society of Historical Buildings.

And an expert on nightclubs.

May l? Dr. Trettorio.

Dr. Trettorio is an expert | on the diseases of the ancient world.

Are you a modern architect, Mr. Kracklite?

No more modern than I should be.

No more modern than Boulle, | would you say?

Replicas of whose buildings now appear | in every authoritarian capital in the world.

Moscow, Peking, East Berlin.

And Rome, Signorina Speckler?

Are you saying | Boulle was the first Fascist architect?

Ask my brother.

Do you think Mussolini admired Boulle?

Albert Speer did, | and Speer was Hitler's architect.

Augustus would have admired Boulle.

Go to Via Ripetta. Look at his tomb.

Don't encourage him, please.

Augustus' wife chose it.

But first she made sure | he would fit inside it...

after all the trouble she had taken.

-Trouble? What trouble? | -Poison.

You see, Augustus felt this dryness | at the back of his throat...

and then a cold shiver across his shoulders.

A pain...

Iike a poker in the small of his back. | A desire to vomit.

It was obviously poison.

His neck became stiff, | his ears began to sing...

his eyes to flutter.

The buttons popped off his jacket--

-Jacket? Are you sure? | -Yes.

Caspasian believes | everyone of substance wears a suit.

And a gallon of yellow bile | erupted from his mouth....

Sorry, Flavia. It was just a history lesson.

For foreigners.

Signor Battistino. You all right?

Of course he's all right.

It sounded like he was dying | just a few minutes ago.

Well, an exhibition like this in Rome...

about an obscure French architect | organized by an American architect...

needs all the publicity it can get.

Wouldn't you say?

I'm gonna go back to the apartment. | I've got some work to do.

Why don't you go sight-seeing? | The Specklers can take you.

God, Stourley! Why don't you take me?

Louisa, please, go with the Specklers. | I'll talk to you later.

Say goodbye for me, okay?

Anything for Boulle.

-Beg your pardon? | -lt is closed.

There is nothing much inside anyway.

This is the Tomb of Augustus?

Yes, but he is not at home.

-Louisa, do you like figs? | -Yes.

-I want you to eat a fig for me. | -Not now.

Why not now?

Because it's late and I'm sleeping.

Come on.

Just eat a fig for me. | You can have a little wine afterwards.

-Why? | -Come on.

-Come on, do it for me. | -Stop it.

Take a big bite out of it.

-I don't want one. | -Eat the fig.

-God damn it. Eat it! | -You're hurting me!

Why did you do that?

Okay. All right, I see.

What do you see?

You say you like figs, | but you never touch them, do you? Never.

What is this about?

I just wanted to see what happened to you | if you ate one of those figs, that's all.

Don't stand there like that.

You'll catch your death of cold. | Get back into bed.

Figs.

They are some kind of aphrodisiac, right? | Is that--

-All right, just forget it! | -No, I'm not gonna forget it.

You come on like a madman | and then you tell me to forget it.

What's wrong with you?

I wanted to see if you're as frightened | of eating those figs as I am.

Are you scared?

Come on, are you scared to eat those figs? | Are you?

Answer me. | Are you frightened to eat those figs?

Answer me!

Why should I be frightened?

I think you ought to see a doctor.

Monday, May 20.

Monsieur Boulle...

I hope you don't mind me | writing to you like this.

I feel I know you well enough to talk to you.

I think my wife is poisoning me.

You can laugh, but I'm serious.

I'm sure it's part of her...

general animosity towards you.

Yours with respect, Stourley Kracklite.

Architect.

If you are being poisoned, you'd know it. | What are your symptoms?

I've made some notes.

The stomach of Augustus.

Do you have such a heroic abdomen?

Take off your shirt.

-Where does it ache? | -Right about here.

Breathe deeply.

Where did you eat your figs?

At a restaurant opposite the Pantheon.

A fine building.

-Are you married? | -Yes.

Is your wife ltalian?

Her parents were ltalian, yes. From Umbria.

A fine fig-growing area. | Do you sleep well at night?

I did before I got to Rome.

Mr. Architect, I can assure you | that you are not being poisoned.

I would suggest | that you are suffering from dyspepsia...

fatigue, over-excitement...

excess and unfamiliar food...

Iack of exercise, too much coffee...

and maybe also too much egotism.

Take these...

and obey the instructions.

Is Augustus a hero of yours, Doctor?

Not particularly. He amuses me.

Are you easily amused?

What frame of mind better suits a doctor?

Where is Kracklite now?

I don't know. | Out marching around Rome somewhere.

He's out when I wake up | and he's asleep when I come in.

What are these?

Something for the exhibition.

No. Look at this.

What is he doing?

-Does he think he's Augustus? | -No. He thinks he's Boulle.

He's obsessed with his stomach.

Maybe he thinks he's going to have a baby.

When are you going to have a baby?

You could have waited for me downstairs.

You would look very beautiful pregnant.

If I may say so...

since you've been in Rome, | you've put on a little weight.

If you became pregnant, | you would put on even more here.

You seem to know a lot about it.

And here.

You take night classes in obstetrics?

Architects ought to know about everything:

reproduction, gender, sex.

Especially sex.

Form, shape...

function, elegance....

Proportionally strong...

enduring...

reliable.

And cost-effective.

You're talking to an architect's wife.

I wish I was talking | to an architect's mistress.

God, Caspasian!

Kracklite was never that forward.

-He was never that talented. | -Or that arrogant.

Still, you've taken your time.

I've been here for 10 weeks.

I would have thought, with your reputation, | you would have made a move before now.

Maybe I was waiting for a sign from you.

What kind of sign?

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