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"Oh, that was decided long ago."
Eight in the end.
"Another game?" said Mason.
"That's your question?"
Mason nodded.
"Sure," said Seth, and racked up the b.a.l.l.s. "We've got a lot to answer for."
Name: Seth Handyman Seth HandymanGender: male maleAge: 44 44Place of work: subway (not the restaurant) subway (not the restaurant)Drug and alcohol use: abstinent. Heavy past use likely.Appearance: medium height, slightly overweight medium height, slightly overweightHair: almost to his shoulders, greying, thinning. almost to his shoulders, greying, thinning.Wears a floppy grey fedora.Eyes: baby blue, with white flecks-like robin's eggs baby blue, with white flecks-like robin's eggsHangout: Tony's Happy Daze Bar and Beer Tony's Happy Daze Bar and BeerLikes: games gamesDislikes: Finland FinlandFamily: parents deceased, brother estranged parents deceased, brother estrangedRisk to self: high highRisk to others: unknown unknownDepression, hopelessness: apparent apparentFear, anxiety, panic: unknown unknownMood swings, unstable moods: unknown unknownUncontrollable, compulsive behaviour: unknown unknownImpulsive, illegal or reckless behaviour: unknown unknownManic, bizarre behaviour: a littleOpenness to being saved: unknown unknownWould like to belong to several clubs: probably not probably not
52.
Two days later they were back in Tony's Happy Daze Bar and Beer, shooting pool and asking questions.
Twelve off the ten in the side.
"Do you have fear, anxiety or panic?"
"Right now?" said Seth.
"Generally."
"No. Not generally."
Mason miscued. The four went into the side.
"It's still a ball ..."
"My ball, my question."
A shrug from Mason.
"Where is your family?"
Mason hesitated. "The other side of the country."
Seven cross-corner.
"What was the name of your first client?"
"Sorry," said Mason. "That's confidential."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yes."
"One of the rules of suicide a.s.sistance?" Seth turned and put his cue back in the rack. "Interesting. Very ethical."
"What are you doing?"
"This game has rules, too. So apparently we've got a conflict." He picked up his jacket. "I'm leaving now." He walked towards the coat rack.
He's getting away.
"Warren," said Mason.
Seth turned. "Before you tell me his last name, keep in mind I can just go online: the Globe Globe obituaries cover the past two years." obituaries cover the past two years."
He wanted to tell him, Stop making this so G.o.dd.a.m.n difficult. I'm trying to f.u.c.king save you! Stop making this so G.o.dd.a.m.n difficult. I'm trying to f.u.c.king save you!
"Why do you want to know?"
"So we can trust each other," said Seth.
Just f.u.c.king tell him!
Shanter," said Mason. "Warren Shanter."
Seth walked back and picked up the cue. He smacked carelessly at a cl.u.s.ter of b.a.l.l.s. The ten went down.
"My ball," said Mason. Seth stood back. "Did you bring the money?"
"I will next time," said Seth. Mason looked at him, then he missed a cross-side.
Seth took down the six.
"Have you started on the letter?"
"I will when you pay me." They looked at each other.
This is a dangerous game, kiddo.
Seth glanced down at the slate. "It's a messy table."
Mason's b.a.l.l.s were all trapped on the rails. And Seth had no shot.
Mason looked at him. "You forfeiting?"
Something flashed across Seth's face. Then he just looked tired. "I'll give you one question."
"All right," said Mason. "Why can't you write your own letter?"
"Writing's like drinking: I used to do it, but now I don't."
"That makes no sense."
Seth shrugged. "It's the truth, though." He turned around and headed out the door.
Mason paid his bill, then followed him. A half-block away, Seth's grey hat bobbed. Mason walked towards it.
Seth turned left on Sudden Street. A minute later, Mason turned too, then crouched behind a parked car. The sidewalk was clear and Seth was only about thirty yards ahead of him, just standing there. He was staring at a tree.
After a few minutes he began walking again. Mason moved slower, still in a crouch behind the row of parked cars.
Three blocks down, Seth stopped once more, in front of a large old house, two plots wide, painted a dark brownish black. There was a chest-high wrought iron fence surrounding the yard. He pressed something on the gate, then waited a moment before pulling it open. He walked up the front steps onto the porch, waited again, then stepped inside.
As Mason studied the large dark house, the door opened once more. Two men walked out onto the porch and lit cigarettes. They began to smoke in silence.
To: [email protected]: : Urgent Dear Mr. D, Unfortunately I'm not the J Follow you're looking for (I am less famous.) The good news is I think I can help you. This has happened before (we are distant relatives but have met only once). Here is a phone number that may work: (915) 822-2131.
All the best, Jeffrey (not a poet) Follow
53.
One week after his ill-fated meeting with Dr. Francis, Mason returned to her office. He didn't say anything, just bowed his head and handed her "The Book of Confession."
45. I prefer candlelight to lamps.
46. There are angels here among us.
Afterwards, he sat in the Cave, three lines of c.o.ke and a twenty-sixer on the bar in front of him. The DJ was playing a remix of a Nina Simone song. Mason looked in the mirror-imagining someone behind it watching him. He studied himself that way-trying to see what the man in the safe room saw: a self-conscious loner, a drunk, a sucker, a guy staring at himself in a crowded booze can. He changed his focus and, still looking in the large, bulletproof mirror, searched the room around him, all these faces in the flashing dark and light.
Chaz came down the bar and stood in front of him.
"What?"
"You've only got yourself to blame."
"Thanks, Chaz. I'm doing fine."
"You kidding me? You're over the cliff with the buffalo."
"Nope." Mason did a line. "Things are good, actually. I've got purpose now."
"You got what?"
"Meaning, a reason to live ... you know, purpose."
"Well, you look like bat s.h.i.t. What's it called ...?"
"Guano?"
"Yeah, you're all guano-looking. How much did you lose last night?"
"Some."
"And the night before?"
Mason poured himself another gla.s.s. "Also some. What's your point?"
"What's your purpose?" Chaz waved towards the card table. "Putting vampires through college?"
"Nah, it's something good."
His heart was palpitating a bit. He took a long drink and did another line. Chaz turned to leave but Mason stopped him. "Can you find an address from a phone number?"
"Possibly."
Mason took a napkin, wrote down the number, and slid it across the bar. "Oh," he said, pulling it back. "There's also an address I want a number for." He wrote 68 Sudden Street 68 Sudden Street.
"Why don't you just visit the one and phone the other?"
"It's a long story."
"Anything to do with w.i.l.l.y?"
"Not directly."
"Well, it should," said Chaz.
Mason looked at him. "You seen her?"
Chaz didn't answer. There was a ruckus at the poker table. He put the napkin in his pocket and headed down the bar. Mason did a line, lit a smoke and stared at the mirror again.
54.
Combo cross-side.