85
Timing is everything, say Yanks.
It’s meant to refer to business, but also applies to life. To Americans, they're one and the same. And the time I chose to visit Neil proved that in spades.
No trouble getting inside Castle IBM. One of the guards remembered me, and let me in. Firstly, of course, he asked how I was, where I’d been; that Saturdays weren’t the same without me, blah blah blah. I never knew I impressed the old coot.
But then, I actually talked to the creature about the weather a moment or two those Saturday mornings of old. The higher-ups of Itty Bitty Machine never gave him even that conversational crumb. The elder didn’t understand that when you wore braces on your trousers, if you were a girly-bloke, or shoulder pads in your jackets, if you were a he-woman, made chat without mention of percentages and multi-syllabic euphemisms impossible. Really, he should’ve sought security from them.
I was escorted to the wing where Neil worked. I hadn’t been inside IBM in months. As usual, on a weekend day, it was like walking through a pyramid. Other types were present, as a God-like breath emanated from AC ducts, but they were far and few between, seeming not human so much as middle-managed dung beetles.
I walked the hallways, James Bond fantasies in head—which file cabinet to open? Which computer database to access? I could’ve made a fortune if I’d actually abducted any info all my times there—security, my arse.
But then I started to sweat, remembering that I didn’t want to be here. I only wanted to get some things off my chest and fly. Though Neil and I hadn’t parted in hysteria, as happened with his worse half, who knew how he’d react upon seeing me now? So let’s get on with it, shall we? Near the snack lounge, I parted ways with Security Gramps, who took this opportunity to get himself a Snickers, and jaw with an oddly Caucasian janitor wearing a Walkman over her mullet and ear-rings shaped like stars.
Tiffany Washburne wasn’t at her desk. But I knew she was here because her electric typewriter was on, and her chair not pushed in. I knew Neil was here too because I could hear him talking, softly, followed by Tiffany, giggling.
Mmmm. I made the English sound of sanction, one involving neither tongue nor mouth. Do it more than once in a chat with an American and you’ll seriously disturb his tranquility. It seems the silly things take our wondrous Mmmm to be vague at best—worst too.
The door was slightly open, and I quietly pushed it further in time to see Tiffany seated atop Neil’s desk, his hand on a leg. He, meanwhile, was sat on his beloved leather swivel office chair, looking up at his mistress, smiling. A smile he kept when he saw me.
“Sammy!” He stood up. So did Tiffany, her face betraying what his did not. “What a surprise!”
“I’ll say.” I was delighted. “How are you, Tiffany?”
“Fine.” She couldn’t look at me. I opened my mouth to fire another round, but Neil put his hand on her shoulder, saving her.
“Well, not that it’s any of your business, Sammy, but Tiffany’s experienced a crisis in her family.” He had to know that was weak; nevertheless, it came out smooth. He was a master thespian. He fooled everyone.
“Poor thing,” I replied.
“Something I can do for you?” A now frowning Neil changed tactics. “I mean, if I’d known you’d be coming, I’d’ve told security to bar you. There’s no reason for you to be here, is there?”
“Actually, there is. I came to talk about your daughter. But I see you’re busy … commiserating. Maybe I’ll talk to your wife instead. Is she free this afternoon?”
“You wanna talk?” Neil waved his arms; walked round his desk. “Let’s talk. Would you excuse us, Miss Washburne? And I’ll need that a copy of that report on my desk before you leave.”
“Sure.” Tiffany walked awkwardly past me, eyes on floor. Mine, fully on her. A Brit has such few chances to stare fully at another. Neil followed her to the door.
“I’ll take care of it,” he said in what had to have been his bedroom voice. He then closed, and locked, the door.
“Have a seat, Sammy.” Neil returned to his. I should’ve left. The longer I stayed, the more he’d regain the advantage. Neil was a passive bloke, but when he wanted something, no-one was more forceful, not even his wife. I knew this as I sat. Yet my mind was full of mysteries now. Foolishly, I desiredresolution.
“You wanna talk about Heather. All right. Something I need to know?” The creep combed his hedgehog moustache. Why a comely slapper like Tiffany would have anything to do with him, I couldn’t fathom—Donna too, for that matter. Based on the evidence, there could only be only one answer: Women are stupid.
I saw the first computer I ever touched. But the golden age was over.
“Heather needs to be out of Baywind. Before it’s too late. Before she really turns mentally ill.” I was direct; and, to my shame, melodramatic.
“Is that your diagnosis, Dr. Hay?” Neil leant back. “I see. Well, not to question any of your credentials, but my daughter really does need help. And she’s finally getting it. In fact, you could say I’m already doing everything I can. What’s going on? You two haven’t been in contact, have you?” Mean Neal frowned harder.
“Of course not.”
“Good.”
“But I did visit her—just now.”
Maybe I shouldn’t have admitted that. But I wanted to anger Neil. I wasn’t disappointed. “Sammy, listen to me carefully. Do that again, and I will get the police involved. I’m serious. Your connection to my family is over. Stay away.”
“Right.” I closed my eyes. Focus. “Mr Turner.” Open. “Mr Turner, I don’t want to be a bother. It’s only….”
“Yes?”
Eloquence, not impulse. “I’ve always noticed you do care for Heather. And though I confess she and I rarely got along, it doesn’t mean I’m not concerned. I don’t think Heather belongs where she is. A change in environment is a good idea. But not there. Not Baywind. To be drugged up and living amongst truly unwell people. I think—I believe, fully, she deserves better.”
Neil dared to smile. Perhaps he didn’t know how else to react. “Where do you suggest she go? Where do you suggest that I, Heather’s father, send a difficult young girl who tried to kill herself?”
“To your parents. In Comfort.”
“You’re joking.”
“Not at all. It’s quiet there. They’re fond of her. Your mother and she get along loads better than Heather does with your own wife.”
Neil laughed up another layer of defence. “I tell you what—what a day it’s been today. You know that? First, I wake up next to this woman whose sole purpose in life is bitching and complaining and whining every minute of the day. Then I got a flat tire not more than two blocks from the house. And now you come in here, telling me what’s best for my daughter. Just fantastic.” Neal shook his head. “Well, lemme clue you in on something, Sammy. It’ll be a cold day in Texas before I take parenting tips from a 17-year old.”
“It’s 18, and God help you if you took any parenting tips at all.” Placidity gone. Blood back to frying. Taste the bubbles in my mouth.
“To hell with you,” gnashed Neal. “You should be ashamed. We let you into our house. We gave you everything on a sliver platter—”
“You sound like your wife—”
“I taught you computers. I’m the one who never forced you to get a job. I was even gonna get you into my school at minimal cost. And all I ever asked of you, Sammy, was to provide a positive role model for Heather. But it was all just an act, wasn’t it? You came here just to get your foot in the door, didn’t you? And the moment you could bail for something you thought was better, you did. You used us.”
This was incredible. I looked at Neal with confidence. And like my beloved Original Dictator, I lost the self in delivery of rhetoric. “Firstly, Mr Turner, we used each other. Secondly, I did try to befriend Heather. It took a long time, but now I am her friend. I’m now doing what you always wanted me to do. You’re finally getting what you wanted. So I’m here to tell you that she’s in trouble. You’re right. She does need help. But she’s not going to get it in that place. Surely, you must see that. For all out mutual loathing, I never thought you were stupid. I can’t believe you think Heather’s getting what’s best for her.”
The bastard blinked. I waited for a response in the hum of the overhead lights. It could drive a person mad if forced to listen.
“All right, Sammy.” Neal sighed. “Sam. Point made. You should leave now.”
“Don’t dismiss me like some schoolboy.”
“Oh?” He was amused. “All grown up now, are you?”
“I want assurances from you.”
“I want you out that door. And If I ever see you again, even in passing, I’ll call the cops and I will charge you, Sam. Harassment’s a serious crime in this state. You could go to jail for up to a year.”
“You’re not going to do anything for Heather, are you?”
“Like I said, what I do or don’t do is none of your concern. Go.”
“Perhaps I’ll see Tiffany first. Extend my condolences. How she must be suffering.”
“You leave her out of this.”
“Exactly how long have you been shagging your secretary, Neil? It has to be least as long as I’ve been here. I mean, this whole business about bringing me here to teach me computers … well, I hate to say it, but your stupid wife was right for once in her plastic life. You could’ve taught me at home. And all the time I was in here, pecking at that keyboard, learning my modifier keys, there you were in the next room bumping muff with some sweet young thing—”
“Tiffany and I have been in a relationship for over a year. It’s not a fling.” Neil lit a cigarette. He had all sorts of secrets. I mean—mentholated fags? A white and green cloud scandalously drifted towards me.
“It’s very serious. We plan on being together. It can’t happen now, though. And you know why. The second Donna finds out, she’ll suck every penny out of me she can get in the divorce proceedings. That’s why I have to put away money—a lot of it, where she can’t get it. But that takes time. Time and a helluva lot of work. By then, I was hoping Heather’d be in college. That’s the best time for her to handle this. When she’s away from all the ugliness that’s going to ensue. Now that plan’s fucked-up. On top of that, I got a mountain of debt thanks to those expensive distractions I was obliged to buy because you—the main distraction—didn’t do your job. So spare me the hypocritical How could you do this? look. You’re no worse than me, Hay, and certainly no better. If you’d only stuck to the program, you could’ve done us both a world of good….”
Neil began to lose his train of thought. The cretin was juggling too much, too long. Then he looked at me; put me back in his crosshairs. “I know you mean right by Heather. And believe it or not, I appreciate your sticking up for her. I’m afraid it’s just too late.” A new cig was in before the old one was out.
“She used to be the happiest little girl. But she’s grown up into a total stranger.” Neil rubbed his temples. “I just hope I have better luck with my next child.”
I remained ever so still. Even as I stopped, rewound, played again.
“Yeah,” said Neil. “That’s right. She’s barefoot and pregnant again—and I don’t mean Donna.”
“No shit.”
Neil barely noticed. “Things are strange today, Sam. But you know, if I’ve learned anything in life, it’s things are never as bad as they seem. I thought when the Dow dropped 508 points back in October, that was it, man. Everything I’d been working for, poof! But it turned out okay. And I’ll turn out okay. I know it. And so will you. And so will Heather. Don’t kid yourself. Kids are stronger than they seem. They can put up with stuff better than adults.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” I said. “I’m sure if you took a child and cut off one of his feet, he’d tend to adjust faster than you or me.”
“Fuck you.”
“You don’t know cock. What’s to stop me from telling Donna everything?”
“You won’t.” Neil inhaled, unconcerned. “Why? Wouldn’t serve you.”
“It’d give me enormous pleasure, watching your world fall apart.”
“Yeah, right.” Neil spat smoke. “The second Donna saw you, every cop in Kaiser Lake’d be on your ass. She told me what you did to her.” Neil was knight to my squire, never losing an opportunity to gain the advantage. He was everything I thought I wanted to be.
“You know…” His eyebrows quickly upped. “Your making that move on her.”
“Is that what she told you?”
“Look,” Neil leant forward; buying time. “It’s all right. I mean, it would’ve been all right. I’m bein straight here with ya here, man. I mean, first of all, it would’ve proved you’re not really queer, which is good, and which, I’m sorry to say, I needed convincing at times. Second, look, I know my wife’s got a bod. I wouldn’t have screwed it over a thousand times if I didn’t think it was rockin. Even now. It’s just the very small matter of that little head and that big mouth that kinda sours my entire fucking life. And the truth is, Sam, that stupid woman and I never belonged together. So you know what? Seriously, I wish you two had done it. It would’ve saved me God knows how much money in court. But in any case, Donna thinks you’re obsessed with her. She’s scared of you, actually. So go ahead. Try and talk to my wife. The cops’ll come and who’re they going believe? The teenage horndog or the married woman? Jesus Christ, haven’t you figured it out by now? Women run this fucking country! Every day, another one gets away with murder.”
“Mr Turner,” I said, drawing breath, pushing aside side issues and attempting a dropkick, “I don’t care about any of that.”
“Well, you got a funny way of showing it.”
“I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”
“Good.”
“I’m only here for Heather’s sake. Truly, I am. Do you believe me?”
“Yeah. Okay. Fine. So what?”
“So I don’t believe it’s too late for her. Send her to your parents. I know you hate them but she likes them. That’s got to be better than the loony bin, doesn’t it?”
“Donna’d never allow it.”
“Force the issue. Didn’t you tell me you chose your battles carefully.”
“I also told you I got another kid on the way. I can’t risk upsetting the apple cart—even a little.”
I saw my fists hit the top of Neil’s desk. Pens jumped. “To cock with your apple cart!”
Fertile Neil lit one last Marlboro Menthol; and sucked on it for dear life. “Well. Look at you. I’m impressed. Go home, Sam. We don’t deserve you.”
I don’t remember leaving Castle IBM. I don’t remember walking to Stony Brook. But I do remember seeing Eisenhower House. I remember the foundation repair, which gave the house all the look and charm of the Western Front.
This time, I ran to it.
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