When I first read her story, I called it a “poisonous bon-bon of brilliance.” And that’s exactly what it is. The perfect ending to what has shaped up to be my favorite (thus far) of the anthologies I’ve edited.
Imagine Ricky Roma and James Lingk at the Chinese restaurant in David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross, Ricky holding court about everything but real estate in order to close a sale. Now scratch the real estate scam and replace it with something far more sinister…
My work here is done.
It’s “Closing Time.”
Closing Time
Amy Wallace
“Hey, bud, got a lighter?”
“Huh? Yeah, sure. Lemme just—”
“Carryin’ a lot of stuff in your pocket, there.”
“What?”
“I said, ‘You’re carrying a lot of stuff in your pocket.’”
“I guess so.”
“My wife always said to me, ‘How do guys get along without purses?’”
“Yeah?”
“You know, women. That damn purse.”
“I guess.”
The man who’d started the conversation lit a cigarette. “You know I miss that damn purse. Used to bug the hell out of me.”
“Mm…”
“Married?”
“Well…“
“Like that, is it? Tell me about it. Mine just left me. And all I can think about is the damn purse. The way she used to root around inside there. Never knew what you’d find. ’Til the day I found the matchbook with the other guy’s number and a heart. These cutesy hearts she used to draw.”
“Jeez.”
“Yeah. The name’s Bill.” He extended his hand.
“Joey.”
“Pleased to meet you, Joey. You said you were a married man?”
“Well, I didn’t…exactly…”
“Buy you a drink?”
“Sure. Thanks. Yeah, thanks.”
Bill motioned to the bartender. “Another for my friend. I’ll have the same.” A brief pause, then: “Funny. A guy doesn’t know if he’s married, you should pardon me.”
Joey frowned.
“Hey, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s just that…we had one of those fights.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
“Like we never did before.”
“Ah.”
“She walked out.”
“She walked out?”
“First time. I mean, this is no game she plays. And I mean, she has someplace to go.” Joey shook his head. “A matchbook? In the purse?”
“That was first. Then I picked up the phone and heard ’em.”
“Hell.”
“That’s right. And that’s right where she should go.”
Bill raised his glass.
“I haven’t been a bad husband to her. I hit her a couple times, okay. But she was asking for it.” He finished his first drink. “I gave her what she wanted.”
“There’s a lot of women in the world.”
“Here’s to ’em!” Joey raised his glass and Bill did, too.
“And besides, it ain’t just babes make the world go ’round.”
Suddenly Joey covered his eyes with the palm of his hand, as if hiding something. Bill saw the gleam of tears.
“My business, it’s gonna go.”
“Hell, man. You do look rough.”
“Do I? Do I look rough?”
“Nothing, nothing unusual. From what you say, everything’s falling apart on you. Health good?”
Joey turned away.
Bill whistled low.
“Sometimes shit adds up and it makes you just wanna…“ He mimed a gun to his head.
“Jeez! Jeez, man.”
“Well, it does.” He pulled the trigger.
“You, too.” It wasn’t a question.
“Me, too. But I…I got it bad. I take it serious. The things that have happened to me you couldn’t believe and you don’t wanna know.”
Joey looked at him blankly.
Bill reached in his pocket and took out a packet, the kind that was used to carry pills on an airplane trip. “I always keep these with me.”
“Jeez.”
“You never know.”
“I guess not.”
“They say pills are a woman’s way, but you know what I call that?”
“What?”
“A load of crap.” He finished his drink. “Safer than carrying a gun. And if you mix them with the right booze, more reliable.”
Joey stared at the bottles.
Bill pushed them across to his table.
“Call it helping a friend.”
“I couldn’t…“
“Oh, but you could. Here. I’ll stay with you, see you through. Another drink? It’s easier if someone stays with you.”
“You seem to, ah, to know…“
“I was a doctor. They took my license, the bastards. I know what’s in there.”
“Right.”
“You start with the blue ones. Don’t ever let anyone tell you it’s a woman’s way. The hell with them.”
“The hell.”
Joey knocked back a handful.
Bill poured out his handful and skillfully palmed them.
After the glasses were on the table, they shook hands, then toasted to “The Wild Blue Yonder.”
“You know,” said Joey, “I gotta tell ya, I gotta admit this to ya. I’ve really thought about it, but I’ve never had the nerve.”
“Well, man, that makes two of us. I needed to meet someone with balls like you to go through with it.”
“Here’s to balls! Bartenders, fill ’em up!”
Bill stirred his drink.
“And another thing. People think it’s pussy to do life’s courageous with another person. Bullshit. Men are men, that Hemingway thing is just one man’s door out. Another is with a friend. Thanks, friend. You gave me guts.”
“Nah.” The pills were hitting him.
Bill took out another bottle. “You follow the blue ones with the yellow ones. Bottoms up!” These he palmed into his front pocket.
***
An hour later was closing time. The bartender said, “You and your friend gotta go.”
“Sorry. My friend? I don’t even know the guy. Think he mixed. I’ll put him in a taxi.”
“He looks pretty messed-up.”
“Some guys… I can hold my liquor. Not everyone—”
“Whatever. I gotta close.”
***
Outside, after the taxis were all gone, a group of the very drunk prepared to walk home, or try to drive. Bill looked over the crowd and spotted a hunched figure.
Bill walked over to the guy and asked, “Got a lighter?”
“Sure.”
“You look like you could use a cup of coffee.”
Evil Jester Digest, Volume 2 Page 19