by Rob Pierce
“How?”
I leaned back and looked at the kid. “Makin a livin. Some jobs are tougher than others.”
“Like what?”
“Guys I know do all sorts of things. I know a lot of guys.”
“I don’t want a job where your nose gets broken a lot.”
“Me neither.” I shook my head, took a drink, and sat up again.
“What do those guys do?”
The kid stood right in front of me, hands on his knees.
I took another drink and gave up, leaned forward. “Some are thieves. Some are cops. Some are both. There’s also coal miners. They never break the law, they make lousy money, and they get hurt worse than anyone.”
Jeremy took a couple steps back. His mouth stayed shut but his face looked like it was open. “I bet that’s stuff you’re not supposed to tell me.”
I smiled. “Fuck, kid. The world ain’t goin away, you might as well know it.”
“What do you do?”
“Dull shit, mostly. Collections agent.”
“What’s that mean?”
“The guy I work for, people owe him money. My job’s to make sure they pay.”
“How?”
I shook my head. “Most people pay, at least a little at a time. Some people, I gotta explain what kind of trouble they’ll be in if they don’t.”
“What kind?”
The kid was bugging me now. I tried to stay amused. “You know, if you borrow money and you can’t pay back, the people you owe can take stuff from you. Your house, your car, that kind of thing.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Never borrow money. And don’t lend it either, unless you know you can collect.”
Jeremy grinned. “Or I could hire you.”
“You couldn’t pay enough.”
There was a sudden look on Jeremy’s face, like he just now knew I was talking business. Maybe it was something in my voice. I was tired of the conversation, didn’t want the bright boy figuring out what I did for a living. “It’s okay, Jeremy. I’ll take care of you for free. It’s different from what I do for money.”
The kid looked up at me. His voice was soft. “Thanks, Uncle Dust.”
He stepped closer and I put an arm around him and took a drink.
***
When I said I’d take care of him, I only meant as long as I was there, and maybe we both knew that might not be long. We were close now but odds were I’d leave Theresa at some point, and when I left I wouldn’t come back. That part felt fucked up. I tightened my grip on his shoulder.
“Uncle Dust?” He sat next to me on the couch and looked up.
“Yeah, kid.”
“Does anything they teach in school matter when you grow up?”
I turned the beer bottle in my hand. “Yeah, sure. I mean, you’re in fourth grade, right? Math and how to write, you need that in any business.”
“What about history? And science?”
I shook my head and smiled. “Depends on what you do. But history? You can always learn from another man’s mistakes. Better than learning from your own.”
Jeremy nodded. “What about your job? What classes help with that?”
Goddamn kid. Fucking testing me. “What I do, you need to know everything. Every day, I get a list of names and numbers. So for starters I gotta know how to read. Then I gotta go to addresses, where they live or where they work, so I gotta know how to read a map. That’s geography. You prob’ly get that later. Then when I meet them, they pay money but usually not all of it, so I gotta mark down what they paid and what they owe. That’s math. That’s three classes right there. And I gotta know common sense just to talk to these assholes. God knows what class that is, maybe that’s something you learn going to school enough years. Ever talk to an asshole?”
Jeremy grinned. He was used to me swearing, but he was only ten so he still got a kick out of it. “Every day.”
“That includes some teachers, I bet.”
Jeremy laughed. “Mister Marble’s okay.”
“Mister Marble?”
Jeremy nodded. It was my turn to laugh.
“But last year, Missus Todd,” he said, “—can a lady be an asshole?”
“You tell me, son.”
“Missus Todd, she was awful. She was old. I don’t know why she hated me.”
I held out my forty-ounce bottle. Jeremy waved his hands, shook his head. I was joking but he wasn’t.
I took a deep swallow. “I stopped trying to figure why some women hate me. Some women, I know, they got cause. Some women just hate. Some men too. Grown-ups who hate that much, they go after the weakest thing they see. Now, if she was still your teacher, I’d go see her and her hate would never come your way again. But hell, you’ve outgrown her by now. She’s an old bitch hating children, and you’re a ten year old who can beat up twelve year olds. I’d rather be you than her.”
“I’d rather beat up her.”
“I might too, but it won’t do you no good. Men ain’t supposed to hit women, don’t ask me why. Seems like you should be allowed to hit anyone your size or bigger, but the world pretends women are soft.”
“That’s only a rule though, right? You don’t pay much attention to rules, do ya Uncle Dust?”
“I don’t hit women. It ain’t worth it. Not because of the rules. You won’t understand this, you’re only ten…”
“Tell me.”
“Okay. Well. The only woman gonna make you mad enough to hit her is someone you love. Someone you don’t want to lose. And if you hit her she owns you. Til you leave her. You lose either way.”
Jeremy looked confused. “You’re right. I don’t understand. I want to hit Missus Todd. I sure don’t love her.”
I was tired, my eyes drooped a little. “Yeah, yours is a different kind of hate. But you still can’t hit her. Too much trouble if you do.”
“I know. She’s a teacher. I’m a kid.”
“You’ll get older, and they won’t be teachers and you won’t be a kid. Don’t hit women. Believe me, it ain’t worth it.”
***
Card games. I shook my head. No wonder he got beat up. But these things had to be popular, there had to be a profit or they wouldn’t hold them, so there should be a lot of kids like him. It made sense. Schools were filled with the socially inept. If you could somehow bring them all together and get them to spend money, you could clean up.
That was the crowd Jeremy fell into. Not desirable, but at least now it was a crowd. When I was a kid, the dorks were like bowling pins. There were a lot of them, but any one could be knocked down at any time. Now some of them had formed a geek coalition, and I figured it was good. If everyone’s pushing you aside, claim that side.
It was Saturday. Theresa dropped him off, usually picked him up.
“Let me get him,” I said.
“What?”
If I stayed with her long enough, eventually she’d ask me to. “You take it easy,” I said. “You deserve some time off.”
I meant that, and I wanted to see Jeremy’s idea of fun. Pick-up time was usually between six and seven. It could go a lot later if he did well in the tournament, but that hadn’t been coming up. Anyway, I’d show up early, see what it looked like. “Have him call me instead of you about pick-up.”
Theresa nodded.
***
The game store was only a few miles from our apartment, but there wasn’t a direct bus line and anyway Theresa didn’t want her boy busing through some of those neighborhoods by himself. I knew those neighborhoods; she was right.
The street where they held the tournament, on the other hand, was strictly suburban, with a Starbucks and a Peets and a neighborhood café too. I knew the local pizza place charged too much by the slice, and the burrito joint charged two bucks more than a good taqueria closer to home, but Jeremy could wander around this neighborhood and pay too much for any kind of food he desired and Theresa wouldn’t worry about his safety.
Parking, of course, was a bitc
h. I drove through half the little commercial stretch, swung a left and in three blocks found a spot outside someone’s house. The houses here weren’t too big, but they were nice. It was one of those neighborhoods where, if you got in at the right time, you could have millionaire neighbors without being a millionaire.
I walked up the sidewalk, admired the nice lawns and front yard gardens, saw how this would be a nice place to live when you’re old, but not before then. There’s a type of relaxation you need after a lot of years, and it’s different from what you need after a long day. Maybe enough long days and I’d want to relax this much, but I couldn’t see it. I felt sorry for anyone under eighty who lived somewhere like this.
I made it up to Thurmond, the street where all the stores were. There were a couple of real high-end restaurants on Thurmond, but most of it was shops with their prices hiked enough to make up for the rent. I strolled past a couple of those until I reached Cardmania. I stopped outside the door, checked the time on my phone. It was a little past five o’clock and the door was open. The place was packed, I could tell looking through the door and through the long window alongside.
There weren’t any messages on my phone, it was an hour earlier than he usually called Theresa. I took a step inside and looked for Jeremy.
It was a long room and it didn’t look like a game store. For one thing, there weren’t any games, or shelves to hold them. One little square table after another, cheap card tables with kids in cheap chairs facing each other. The tables were so close together that although I knew it was a two-person game, from what I saw it could as easily have been eight. Bunches of scrawny little kids—that was the group I searched—and even greater bunches of fat kids. There were a lot of sodas and candy bars in the players’ hands, but the tables were covered with cards.
There was a long glass counter to the left. It held the kind of cards Jeremy bought, boxes and boxes of them. The counter must have run fifteen yards toward the back of the store. Beyond it was a wall of computer stations, but they sat idle now—the store was filled with underage card players.
Children talked—it was a high-pitched room—and cards were played, but it wasn’t like when men played cards. I could see people losing, packing up their decks and still happy. Clearly they weren’t gamblers. They didn’t lose anything they cared about.
So there had to be an entry fee, no matter what Jeremy had said. There were prizes, and they were paid for somehow. He was putting up money every week, but Theresa didn’t know. Maybe his allowance covered it. If Jeremy was buying decks, except for the one time he stole from me, we didn’t know where that money came from.
I saw him. He was halfway across the room and it was too late to tell whether he’d won the round. He and his opponent, a kid even shorter than him and with curly blond hair, were both picking up their decks and talking to each other like the game itself was the finest thing they’d ever seen, like they were British or something. They both looked happy, two kids who in my day would have both been victims and here they were playing cards together.
There wasn’t a big scoreboard anywhere showing who was winning so they had to be keeping the results hidden behind the counter. I only wanted to know when Jeremy would be done for the day, and I figured I looked enough like a parent that they’d answer if I asked, but I knew Jeremy used some kind of character name when he signed in. He’d told me that much, but I didn’t remember the name. They had no idea who he really was.
I stood a few feet from the counter where the cash register was. No way they’d holler out who was playing who, they’d never be heard. They had to put up a schedule somewhere. I guessed it would be near here.
I stepped up to the end of the counter nearest the front door. It was a long counter with no one behind it. A couple of guys in their twenties worked the room with clipboards, stopping at each table and jotting something down. With my back to the counter the crowd was to my left. There were a few tables to my right, and kids played cards there too. Beyond them were several vending machines, sodas and candy. A noise came from my left and I turned fast.
The crowd surged toward me, looking at each other until they reached the vending machines. End of the round, I supposed; time to refuel. There were a lot of them, not real healthy looking, but they made good speed in pursuit of sugar. I looked into the crowd but couldn’t see Jeremy anymore. It was like they’d all risen on a signal, all the games over at once. The young guys with the clipboards were taller than almost all the players, and they easily squeezed through the crowd and toward the counter.
“Can I help you?”
I jumped. The voice was behind me. I turned and a tiny girl stood there, less than five foot, maybe eighteen and dressed like a creature off one of the game cards, pigtails, giant eyes, and a puffy dress that stopped way too short.
I smiled, but I didn’t like getting caught off guard. “One of the kids is mine. How long til the next round?”
“It’s a ten-minute break.” She slurped from a straw in a tall cup and walked away before I could thank her, walked up to a computer near one of the clipboard guys. The guy talked and she typed, her tiny fingers blurs on the keyboard. The other clipboard guy stepped up and the first walked toward my end of the counter. She kept typing like it was an Olympic event and she was taking the gold.
“She’s fast,” I said to the guy with the clipboard. Except he’d set it down somewhere.
“Has to be. A hundred twenty players. Ten-minute breaks.”
I nodded, looked around the room. She was probably the only female in the place. She looked like an elf, but in this crowd she’d be Queen Elf. I’d lost sight of Jeremy, tried to find him again. He was small, even for this crowd, and he didn’t have any friends here that I knew. Not that they’d be any easier to see than he was.
Then I saw Jeremy. And next to him, Davis. Bent down and talking to the boy I was making mine. I took a step forward then another, into the crowd of children, through them and toward trouble. I didn’t know what could happen in a room full of little kids, but I didn’t see how it could be any good.
Davis looked up before I could reach him. Not that I intended to touch him. I didn’t know what I’d do. “Jeremy,” I said.
Davis took a step back. Jeremy looked up. “You’re early, Uncle Dust. Mom’s never early.”
I didn’t know which one to look at. “You guys get together every weekend?”
Jeremy nodded.
Davis tried to glare at me but his eyes looked frozen. “I’m always gone before Theresa gets here.”
I looked at Jeremy. “That true?”
He nodded again.
I looked back at Davis. “So, what do you guys talk about?”
Jeremy stepped away from Davis. “I gotta see who I’m playing next round.”
I nodded. He darted past me. Davis took another step back.
“There’s a wall in that direction,” I said. “You wanna go out the door, tell me what you talk about.”
Kids swarmed past us. In a few seconds it would be just me and Davis on this end of the room.
“Yugioh,” he said. “How he’s doing in school. He told me about the fight. What you taught him—that was pretty cool.”
He sounded like he meant it. “Kiss my ass. He’s a little boy who ain’t yours and you like to hang out with him on weekends.”
“It’s all in public places. Like this, we just talk. I like Jeremy, and Theresa means well, but she can’t be a dad.”
“You had the job a while. You didn’t do much with it.”
Davis shook his head, stepped toward me. The words rasped out. “She wouldn’t let me in. It wasn’t like with you. She didn’t let me do what needed to be done.”
My fists clenched at my sides. I could barely even whisper. “You care about Jeremy but you didn’t take care of him.”
Davis shook his head again. He looked like he’d stammer if he spoke. Instead he kept his mouth shut.
I had to keep talking. “So you come here, the fail
ed father, and sneak around behind Theresa’s back, sneak around behind my back, try to ease your way into the picture.”
Words fell soft from his mouth. “It ain’t like that.”
“You didn’t take care of Jeremy then. You sure as hell don’t take care of him now.”
“Someone has to.”
“You don’t.” I stamped a foot, tried to pull myself back, took a deep breath. “You’re not a part of the family,” I whispered, “you don’t get any of this.”
Davis blinked at me. It was obvious and he didn’t get it. God I hate morons. I stared at him trying to take Jeremy from me and my eyes went blank.
I threw an overhand right that hit Davis in the cheek. He toppled. I hadn’t seen the punch coming any more than he did. I backed up, spun, walked fast toward the door. Kids turned and stared and I didn’t look back to see if Davis got up. He wasn’t coming after me.
I saw Jeremy near the counter, got within a few feet and talked loud. “Go ahead and play til you’re done. Meet me outside.”
Kids got out of my way and I walked out the front door.
ACT 2
The car was several blocks away. I got there fast. This time I found parking right in front of the game store. I waited outside for an hour, leaned against my car. If I smoked, I’d have gone through a pack. Instead, I walked around a little but never left the block. No cops showed up, and Davis never came out the front door. I didn’t expect Davis to press charges, but someone from the store might have called. Maybe Davis explained how cops in their store would be bad for business, and if they’d let him out the back…
Kids trickled out the front door, talking to each other. A handful carried stacks of long narrow boxes; the rest had backpacks or briefcases for their cards. I sat on my hood, rubbed the knuckles of one hand in the palm of the other.
Jeremy was with someone his own size, talking excitedly. He saw me and his eyes dropped. He and his friend stood outside the door, his friend still talking, waving arms, looking at Jeremy. Jeremy looked at the ground. Slowly, he walked to me. I was pissed off and worried, but he looked like a death-row prisoner on his way to the chamber and I nearly cracked up.