When the baby went back to his basket, Tulpen came back to bed and snuggled up close to Trumper. 'Don't you care what I've named him?' she asked.
'Oh, the baby!' he said. 'Of course. What did you name him?'
'Merrill,' she said, and she bore down hard with the heel of her hand on his spine. The back of his throat ached. 'I must love you,' she whispered. 'I called him Merrill because I think you're very fond of that name.'
'I am, yes,' he whispered.
'I was thinking of you, see?'
He could feel her body getting angry with him again. 'Yes, I know,' he said.
'You hurt me like hell, Trumper, do you know that?' she said.
'Yes.' He touched her stubble lightly.
'OK,' she said. 'Just don't ever forget it.'
He promised he never would, and then she held on to him and he dreamed his two most frequent nightmares. Variations on a water theme, he called them.
One was always Colm in some imagined disaster which always involved deep water, the sea or cold mudflats. As always, it was too terrible to allow him to consciously remember the details.
The other was always about Merrill Overturf. He was in water too; he was opening the top hatch of a tank; it always took him too long.
At six a.m., baby Merrill's wailing woke him. Tulpen's breasts were drenching his chest and the bed had a sour-sweet smell of milk.
She covered herself with a diaper and he said, 'Look at them leak. You must be aroused.'
'It's because of the baby crying,' she insisted, and he got out of bed to fetch the child for her. Trumper had a typical morning erection, which he did not hide.
'Have you seen my new prick?' he said, clowning. 'It's still a virgin, you know.'
'The baby's crying,' she said, but she was smiling. 'Get the baby.'
'Merrill!' he said. How nice it felt to say that name out loud! 'Merrill, Merrill, Merrill,' he said, waltzing the baby to the bed. They had a nice debate about which breast to use; Trumper did a lot of excessive feeling around for the harder one.
Tulpen was still nursing when the phone rang. It was very early in the morning for a call, but she seemed unsurprised; watching Trumper closely, she nodded for him to answer it. He sensed he was being tested somehow, so he picked up the phone, but didn't speak.
'Good morning, young suckling mother!' said Ralph Packer. 'How is the baby? How are your boobs?' Trumper swallowed while Tulpen smiled serenely. 'Matje and me are on our way over,' Ralph went on. 'Do you need anything?'
'Yogurt,' Tulpen whispered to Bogus.
'Yogurt,' Trumper told the phone thickly.
'Thump-Thump!' Ralph cried.
'Hello, Ralph,' Bogus said. 'I saw your movie ...'
'Terrible, isn't it?' Ralph said. 'How are you, Thump-Thump?'
'I'm fine,' Trumper said. Tulpen removed the diaper from her free tit and aimed her nipple at Trumper. 'I got my PhD,' Trumper mumbled to the phone.
'How's the baby?' Ralph asked.
'Merrill's fine,' Bogus said. Tulpen's free breast was squirting his leg. 'I'm sorry I missed your marriage, Ralph. Congratulations.'
'Congratulations to you,' Ralph said smartly.
'See you soon,' said Trumper and hung up.