The Innswich Horror by Edward Lee Read Free Book Online Page B

pregnant women to degenerates.”
    “There are a lot of
‘degenerates’ in the world, Morley. Supply and
demand— there’s what your capitalism’s caused.” He looked directly at me.
“You’d be surprised how many sick fellas there are out there who
like to look at pregnant girls.”
    “And you’re the purveyor—to support your
narcotics habit, no doubt,” I snapped. “Without the supply, there
becomes no demand, and then morality returns. But this will never
happen as long as predators such as yourself remain in business.
You sell desperation, Mr. Zalen, via the exploitation of the
subjugated and the poverty-stricken.”
    This seemed to ruffle a
feather or two. “Hey, you’re just a rich pud, and you got no right
to make judgments about people you don’t know. Not everybody’s got
it easy like you do. The government’s building battleships for this new Naval
Expansion Act while half the country’s starving, Mr. Morley, and while
ten million people got no jobs. Redistribution of wealth is the
only moral answer. What an apathetic military industrial complex
forces me, or the girl in the back room, or Mary, or anyone else to do to
survive is nothing you have the right comment on.”
    An unwavering sorrow
touched me with the self-admission that, on this particular point,
he was correct. Perhaps that’s why his truth urged me to despise
him all the more. Though obviously a proponent of Marx and Ingles,
Zalen had quite accurately labeled me. A
rich pud. I didn’t bother to point out my
many acts of philanthropy; I’m sure an alienist in this day and age
would diagnose my acts of charity as merely attempts to alleviate
guilt. Eventually I replied, “I apologize for any such judgments,
but for nothing else. Even if what you accuse Mary of is true, I
could hardly blame her, for reasons you’ve already stated. I
believe that she and millions of other downtrodden… and even you, Mr. Zalen, are
essentially victims of an invidious environment.”
    “Oh, you’re a real treat!” he laughed.
    I knew I must not let him circumvent me, for
that would only refresh my despair, in which case he would win.
“I’m here for business regarding my pastime. Let us stick to that.
I’ll also pay—say, five dollars apiece—for any quality photographs
of this Innswich Point that you may have taken before the
government renewal effort.”
    His insolent grin
returned, and that cocksure slouch. “You sure that’s all you want, Mr.
Morley?”
    “Quite,” I asserted.
    “But, why? Back then, all of Olmstead,
especially the Point, was a slum district.”
    “Though I’d never expect you to understand,
I’ve an interest in seeing the town as Lovecraft saw it, when it
sparked the creative conception for his masterpiece.”
    “So that’s your hobby, huh?” he
mocked.
    “Yes, and one, I’d say, quite harmless when
compared to yours.”
    He laughed. “Don’t
knock my hobby,
Mr. Morley. You know, pretty soon I’ll have to take a bang.” He
slapped the inside of an elbow. “You should stick around to watch.
It’d do someone like you good to see something like that, to look
real hard right into the face of the only salvation that capitalism
and all its hypocrisy leaves the poor.”
    “Stop blaming your weakness on the American
economic program,” I scoffed at him.
    “And this book—” He held
up Innsmouth again. “Pretty damn stupid if you ask me.”
    “The likes of you would probably say the
same of ‘The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,’ Mr. Zalen.”
    He clapped in amusement.
“Now you’re talkin’! Coleridge was a junkie too! But
Lovecraft’s Innsmouth tripe? He got the town all wrong.”
    “It wasn’t about
the town, ” I
nearly yelled back. “It was an intricate and very socially
symbolic fantasy. ”
    “And he should’ve at least done a better job
changing peoples’ names.”
    I sat up more alertly.
“Why do you say that? I thought it mostly the names of places he
altered.”
    “No, no, damn