GLASS SOUP by Jonathan Carroll (funny books to read .txt) 📕

When she was finished Broximon took off back toward the picnic table. He was terrified he’d get there too late and Vincent would already be gone. But his gait was so slow and comical that when Bulut saw it, he bent over, half laughing hysterically. The girl smirked, adjusted one bra strap, and waited for her boyfriend to return from the mission.

Ettrich ended up almost trampling Broximon while running to save him. The truth was that he didn’t see Brox because he was in such a panic to catch up. At the last moment he did see and was able to put on the brakes. Bending down, he scooped the little man up in one arm like a football. Both of them were breathless but Broximon started speaking the moment he was level with Ettrich’s ear. He spoke as fast as he could while being carried upright back across the park, his arms wrapped tightly around Vincent’s neck. He spoke until right before Ettrich sat down again at the table and stationed Brox on his lap as if he were a ventriloquist’s doll.

Putnam had seen them coming and was already seated and waiting when they arrived. In a jovial voice he boomed out, “Well, that was exciting. But what was it all about? Who were those kids?”

Vincent ignored the question. “I’m not going to go, Mr. Putnam. I’m staying here.”

Instead of responding, Putnam put his chin in his hand and stared at Vincent awhile in silence.

Ettrich continued. “Isabelle will have to find a way to survive over there, like I will here. But I’m not going back. Not yet. Not till it’s the right time.”

“And what about Anjo, Dad?” The old man’s voice was all acid and taunt.

Vincent didn’t reply. He knew it was essential to do this carefully and with conviction.

“Aren’t you at least a little concerned about the welfare of your son?”

“Yes, I’m very concerned, but Isabelle will have to handle it. And she will too. She’s strong.”

“So let me be sure I understand this, Vincent. You’re going to abandon your great love and unborn child to an existence in some unthinkable netherworld just because you believe you should stay here?”

Vincent rubbed his mouth and said the truth. “Yes, stay here and fight you. I think that’s exactly what she would want me to do. And even if not, that’s what I am going to do.”

“Should we call her back over here and ask if that’s really what she wants you to do?”

Ettrich said, “There’s no need to call her. She’s standing right behind you.”

Putnam whipped around. Five feet away Isabelle was looking at him blankly, hands stuffed in her pockets. She wore different clothes from those she had on half an hour before. That more than anything was the tip-off as to what Ettrich had done. For a few seconds Putnam almost felt sorry for this chump and his pathetic ruse. But then the feeling passed of course. This was the same man who had so cleverly liquidated John Flannery? It was hard to believe.

Putnam sighed and turned back to face the fool. “Dignity, Vincent. I believe that is really the only admirable quality humans possess.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Isabelle who had not moved. “This is not dignified. Creating a false dream-girl Isabelle to fulfill your needs and assuage your guilt is not dignified. Shame on you, sir.”

“Touch her if you think she’s false.”

Putnam shrugged dismissively. “Vincent, you’re talking to me, remember? I know about these things. I don’t need to touch her. I’m sure her flesh and bones are very convincing. Bravo—it’s nice to see you using a few of the tricks you learned when you were dead.

“But that’s not the point. She’s fake, Vincent. You know it and I know it. She’s a fabrication. The real Isabelle, the one you supposedly love so much, is waiting for you with your child on the other side of death. And that Isabelle you can’t see. But your way of avoiding your responsibility to them is to create this… this blow-up fuck doll to take her place. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“I’m not going.” Ettrich’s voice was strong and resolute.

“You’re just going to let her rot over there? Her and Anjo? You’re really going to abandon them?”

Ettrich took a deep breath and let it all the way out before answering. “I’m not going over there.”

Putnam looked at his watch because he couldn’t think of anything else to do. There was nothing more he could say. Vincent Ettrich was not going to do it. Checkmate. He had defeated them. He had done something they had never expected: he was abandoning the love of his life and their child so that he could stay here and fight.

He stood up, looked at Vincent with that little creature Broximon sitting on his lap like some kind of odd pet. Putnam tried to snort and chuckle at the same time to show his derision. But it didn’t come out right and only sounded like an old rheumy man clearing his throat. He strode out of the park without once looking back.

Only when he was gone from her sight did Isabelle walk the few steps over to their table.

Ettrich looked at her and had to ask, “Is it really you? How did you come back here? How did you do it?”

It was a peculiar question coming from him but she answered it honestly. “I was never away, sweetheart. I’ve just been sitting in the park for a while.”

The real Isabelle, her dead friend Leni Salomon, and false Broximon watched the others talk and smile and touch before slowly making their way out of the park too, only via a different exit from the one Putnam had used. Broximon was sitting in the Babby Basket again. The expression on his face was relaxed and almost happy.

False Broximon watched them leave and then said to himself as much as to the two women nearby, “I wish I