Thomas offered the Dead Father a dot bound in blue paper.
What is it?
Read it, Thomas said.
It was a will.
It is a will, the Dead Father said, whose?
We thought it best that you take the precaution, Thomas said. Many people are iely prepared.
I dont want to make a will, said the Dead Father.
No one wants to make a will, said Thomas. Still it is a prudent step that we thought you ought to take, in your wisdom.
My wisdom, said the Dead Father. Infinite. Unmatched. Still, I dont want to make a will.
Prudend wisdom being two of your stro suits, Thomas said.
Dash my wig! said the Dead Father, Ill not do it. Im too young.
Thomas looked up into the sky.
Of course its entirely up to you, he said. If you wish to leave your affairs in rotten mishmashy cluttersome disarray. . .
Im too young! the Dead Father said.
Of course you are, said Thomas, so are we all. Yet there is a vein in you that may pop at any time. I have identified it. Runs up the right leg and who knows, who knows where it wanders after it leaves the leg. Lurking potential embolisms me. I dont want thten you, but you get the picture.
By the Holy Goat, the Dead Father said, I will not.
Thomas waved his hands in the air suggesting exhausted patiend disied pursuit of what-is-right.
Who shall I leave it to? the Dead Father asked. Who is worthy?
I should say, no one. Perhaps the nation. The first step is the iory. you give me some idea of what the estate sists of?
Vast, said the Dead Father. I have no idea. sult my steward.
Your steward has bee go, said Thomas.
Luke? Luke gone? On whose authority?
It was thought best, Thomas said.
Then who is looking after things?
I believe his name is Wilfred, Thomas said.
But Wilfred is not Luke, the Dead Father said.
Best we could manage, said Thomas. You have no idea at all as to the size of your holdings?
Oh I have some idea, said the Dead Father. He produced a small black pocket notebook.
Youre taking this down?
Thomas nodded.
The Dead Father cleared his throat.
Various lands in Saxony, he read aloud.
Thats rather vague, Thomas said.
Um, said the Dead Father uurbed, so it is. Let me tinue. Certificates of deposit totaling --
Totaling what? asked Thomas.
They are all separate and distinct figures with no total listed, said the Dead Father. The sum would appear to be quite large, could one add it.
He turned a page.
A nut-brown maid, he read. Regina. The stereo. A pair of chatterpies. My ravens. A parcel of rental properties. Eleven rogue elephants. One albino. My cellar. Twelve thousand bottles more or less. Lithographs to be swallowed for siess. Two hundred examples. My print colle, housand items. My sword.
Your sword is gohomas noted.
My sword is gone, said the Dead Father, but I have a spare sword, ba the city. My sed-best sword. Jeweled hilt and all that.
A field of flowers outside Darmstadt. Wrinkleflowers. My greenhouses and potting sheds. Wilfred will know. Portrait busts of myself by Houdon, Minque, Planck, and Bowdoin. My napkin rings. Four thousand volumes of cabalistic literature. Cycladic figures to the number of one hundred eighteen. My gouges: The straight gouge, short bent gouge, lo gouge, V gouge, U gouge, 5/32" gouge, 3/8" gouge. Four skew chisels. My box at the opera. My Been records. My Tho