A change of gravity

by George V. Higgins

"These people, Danny," Merrion said, "I'm telling you, I don't know how you do it. The six years I've been working for you, I've paid attention, watched you. Seen you with them; talking to them, listening to them. Half the time they're not even making sense but you still listen to them, like they're making sense. Going to their functions it seems like they're always having and you never get tired of it. Want to say to them: "For God's sake, will you shut up7. Stop talking to me." Never lose your patience. I don't know how you stand it. If I knew that I'd have to do what you do for the rest of my life, I think I'd go out of my mind.

  "I've gotten so I hate them. Always pestering people like me to get people like you to get something for them cushy jobs and special treatment. When the truth is they don't even like us.

  "You know what they're thinkin', they come in and see me? I don't think you do, and that's no reflection on you. When you're out campaigning, you're a candidate, sure, but also a celebrity. They want to be seen with you, maybe get their picture taken. Shows how important they are, the candidate knows them by name. So they're on their best behavior.

  "You don't see the side they show me, swaggerin' in here to practically threaten me, try to order me around. They are fuckin' insulting. Act like they're lowerin themselves, comin' in to ask for a favor. Way they see it, they're the ones doin' the favor, for you, asking you do something for them.

  "It's all over them; you can see it. Thinking: "Who're these guys that we have to beg? They're pols that's all they are. They don't deserve no respect. The only difference they see between politicians and the kid who pumps their gas and cleans their windshield down at Borromeo's Gulf is that you dropped into City Hall one day, maybe pay a water bill. And it so happened you hadda wait and a thought crossed your mind: "Hey, as long's I'm in the neighborhood, why not run for something', huh? Might be kind of fun." So you filled out some papers, and then next you got elected. Best day you ever had. You should be grateful to them.

  "This is all of you guys now, I'm talkin' about here. Alia pols except Kennedy. He's got money. So he must've just needed something to do.

  Did everyone else a big favor, outta the goodness his heart. But all the rest of you ran for something one day on a whim, and then you won, no work involved. Except for that one lucky hunch, you're no different'n the guy snarling at me is. Prolly not even as good.

  "I was not prepared for this. My father envied pols; he admired them.

  He wished he could be one himself. I used to think when I was younger, 'fore I went to work for you, it was too bad Pat didn't run for office.

  Even if he'd lost. At least he would've tried; gotten it out of his system.

  "More'n just the town committee. Selectman, maybe, or town moderator.

  Or something part-time with the county. Because he loved the game so.

  "He said the reason that he didn't, people sometimes told him he should run? If he announced for office, he'd offend people. Make a bunch of enemies just by doing that.

  '"Just by running, you piss people off. Whadda you think you're doin', goin' after that job? You sure've got some kinda nerve.

  "They think they should be the ones to have the job, even though they never thought about it until they heard you wanted it. So therefore they're mad at you.

  '"And if I lose, can I still do my job selling cars? People're now mad at me. For the rest of my life there'll be a group of people out there who'll never buy a car from me. Or from any other salesman who works for John Casey either, because I work for him and that means it's his fault too. Win or lose, I hurt John. I don't wanna do that. Create a group of people who if they still buy Fords will buy them in Springfield because I ran for something their kid brother Mikie wanted.

  If I beat him I'm a bastard, because I took what he wanted. If I lost, it doesn't matter; I'm still a bastard because I made Mikie work for it, made him spend a lot of money he could otherwise've kept."

  "Okay, that's what he said. But now that I've been in it like I have with you, I think he was pretty smart. He didn't come right out and say it, but he knew what politics made people think of you; hold you in contempt. Even when you're the guy they voted for, who won. You put yourself in their power, and therefore they despise you.

  "Everybody liked Pat Merrion as long as he was a car salesman. They thought his friends got better deals than people he didn't know, so they wanted to be his friends. He encouraged them to think that. Then when it came time for them to buy their next car, they'd think if they bought it from someone else their old pal Pat would be sad. They wanted him to like them. He had the power. But if he ran for office he'd be asking them to like Kim. They would then have the power. They weren't as good and kind as he was, and he knew it. If one of them ran and won, Pat'd admire him. If Pat ran and won, they'd turn mean."

  Hilliard laughed. "You do need a change," he said.

  "And the court job'd be a good one," Merrion said. "Unless people know someone when you're the clerk, you can say No politely, but say it. And if you do they're shit outta luck. I could get used to that very fast.

  "Then there's the nice steady paycheck. Once you start drawin' it, you're set for life. Until it comes time for you to retire, at which point you get a pension. It's not like you start hoping your friend who got you the job loses his next election; naturally you still want him to win. But if some guy comes outta nowhere and sandbags him, well, at least you've still got your job. And on top of that, I've heard reports: There're people who say it's not hard."

  "No,1 Hilliard said.

  "That's a rumor I heard," Merrion said. "I also heard you get vacation, and every year you stay there you earn more of it. I first heard that, I didn't believe it. But then I think about it. I can see why this would be. It's sort of like sex, I guess, little bit like getting' laid? The more you like your work, the more of it you're naturally gonna do. And therefore the more rest you need from it. Or else your pecker falls off."

  "I suppose," Hilliard said. "But could anyone actually tell when you were takin' vacation? How would they know, if they looked around and couldn't find you, that you just didn't happen to come in yet this particular day? Isn't that you're on vacation; you just don't happen to be there, is all. Taking the morning or afternoon off, maybe even the whole entire day, to take care of a few things you know? Errands and stuff, we all have to do now and then. How would they know you were off on vacation?"

  "They generally wouldn't," Merrion said. "The clerks're a lot like reps are, in that respect. Which is another feature of the job I really like; the fact that you can be at work and on the job without having to be actually present in the building. I always envied how you can do that."

  "It's pretty nice," Hilliard said warmly. "I've said that myself, many times. In fact yesterday, when I was in here, that thought crossed my mind. Technically I was in Boston, because we were in session.

  One-hundred-and-eleven-point-six miles away, two-hundred-and-twenty-three-point-two miles, round-trip. Eight cents a mile, couple dollars in tolls, Nineteen-dollars-and-eighty-four-cents if memory serves, and it does."

  "And plus which," Merrion had said, 'there's this other aspect of it:

  You associate with a much better class of people than you do playin' politics. Better'n I see in here, at least. You're now hangin' out with the criminal element. These're the guys alia liberals think so highly of, victims of society. Much classier type of person, by and large, 'n you're ever gonna run into in politics, people breakin' their word all the time.

  "Job in a courthouse, you got some idea what you're dealin' with. Day in, day out, most the people you see're common criminals. And fully qualified, too, every last one of them, to be where they are. You know what to expect. Violators of by-laws, orders, ordinances and rules, regulations, all of those kinds of things, and all kinds, misdemeanors there, too. Your lower-grade felonies, less'n five years; malicious destruction of personal property; indecent assault on a child takes a real classy guy to do that. Gettin' out of a jail before you're supposed to; or you tr
ied and didn't make it, just for tryin'. Forgery, too, all that kind of stuff. Guys who unlimber their dicks at high noon and piss their brains out in the street. Right there in front of the church, Most Blessed Sacrament, say, up in Cumberland, just as the casket comes out. Beat up their kids. Slap their wives around.

  Swindle widows; cheat orphans; pick people's pockets. Bang into other guys' cars down the shoppin' mall, right? Without leavin' their name and address, so the poor bastard never knows who it was, put the dent in his car. Let their horny dogs loose with no collar and license.

  All of that kinda crap there."

  "You've done your homework," Hilliard said.

  "Damned right I have," Merrion said. "First thing I do, 'fore I ask for a job now that I had this one, at least is make sure it's a job that I want. This court job I'd fit right in. My kind of people. I'd get along with 'em fine. I'd doin' the same thing you're doin', the State House: fittin' right in with the crowd. Tellin' dirty jokes with the rest of the lads. Steppin' quickly aside but rememberin' to look sad, some pal of ours gets indicted.

  "Always sayin' the right thing and so forth. "Tough thing they're doin' to old Magnus there. Trynah heave his ass inna jug; this's a serious thing. I hope it turns out all right for him. But do you think, just asking' here now, but in case it turns out they hook the poor bastard, I could have his parkin' space? Mine's awful far from the door. Rainy days I get all wet." Takin' care at all times none of the shit spraying him spatters you.

  "I've thought about it, all of that stuff," Merrion said. "I can handle that duty. The first thing you know, you're in your courthouse there, forty years've gone by like a shot. And you have not changed a bit. You don't look a day over forty yourself. No wrinkles, no lines 'cept from Florida, maybe, goin' down inna winter so much, or playin' a game of golf up around here any time you can fit in a few holes. But no more'n, say, oh, three or four rounds a week. Wouldn't want to overdo it. How would you get wrinkles, livin' like that? What'd give them to you? Never a worry about anything; had a care on your mind."

  "Well, your waist might get a little bigger," Hilliard said. "Might find pants a size or two larger fit better. But that's only natural; get older, you slow down a little. Lose a few teeth and so forth. But still chewin' your food all right. Making your way through the prime rib at Henry's Grist Mill. Another night a couple monster baked-stuffed lobsters with the butter and the crumbs the Lobster Trap does up so good? Little light table wine, wash it down? Well, that's what you gotta expect then. You eat right: you put on some weight."

  "But that doesn't mean you ain't well," Merrion said, 'or getting' old.

  Just getting' up there, is all. Need glasses all the time now? That's not age; it's all the readin' you have to do, papers and letters and stuff. You oughta get combat pay in that job, workmen's comp; all the eyestrain they put you under.

  "No wonder you miss all those putts, can't see a bar-tab when you're out with a lawyer, another hard day on the job a drunk-driving charge against one of his clients got mislaid, again; nobody could find it all day. So they hadda continue the case, and this's the third time it's happened. Chances are if a couple of fifties show up tomorrow that complaint'll never turn up."

  "Ahh," Hilliard said, 'you're not thinking, I trust, of that kind of career. Guys who do that kind of thing have been known to go to jail.

  Guys who backed them for their jobs get most embarrassed. Reporters and voters are uncharitable; sometimes they think when a pol's friend gets caught dirty, that means the pol's a crook too. Can be a real handicap, next election. I sure wouldn't like to confront it."

  "Nah, I haven't got the balls to be crooked," Merrion said. "And I wouldn't do it to you if I did. I owe you more'n you owe me. But lots of guys did have the balls, Dan, a lot of guys who never went away.

  "Ain't it strange," they would say, "how things just disappear around here. Must be I'm becomin' forgetful."

  "But you don't even have to do that. You're perfectly honest, do fine.

  I know if I get it, people will say that to me, don't seem to have as much respect as they used to. "Pilin' up the pension; got it made in the shade; without workin' a day in your life. At least since you left Hilliard's office, I mean. "Till then you worked your ass off, doin' the guy's job for him."

  "That's the whole secret of this thing, I think. The keys is that first you make sure that's what you do: you grow old. Don't do any of this dyin' shit they got there, no matter what anyone says. That, as they say, is a grave mistake. And then when you got that part down pat, no dyin' or getting' real sick, then you make sure to live well.

  Live gracefully, know what I mean? So you get old, but you're still lookin' good. Like it was no trouble at all. That's how I want to go out. Lookin' good, like life was a cinch."

  "Yeah," Hilliard said. "Well, you sound like you got it planned out pretty good. But there may be one or two other things we oughta think about here, geography and stuff. Which one of these little dukedoms 've you got in mind? Where you come from can be important. You should really come from a town in the district you want to go into, if that wouldn't be too much trouble. Don't have to, of course, it's not in the statute, but it really helps if you do. Especially if you're a young guy, gonna tie up the slot a long time if you live, as you will who ever heard a clerk dyin' in office? What the hell's gonna kill him? Overwork? Clerks don't die; they retire. Hometown boys have an easier time of it, when they gotta go through the hoops, getting' their names approved. But you're from that backwater there." '"Backwater," nothin'," Merrion said. "Canterbury's perfectly all right by me. I never hid it, I come from Canterbury. I grew up in Canterbury. My mother and brother're still there. He's got plans to leave, but she hasn't. I moved but I didn't go far, next town over.

  I'll take the district court of the Canterbury Division any day of the week. They've got a slot open there, too. That's another thing I checked; they're a three-assistant court but for some reason only two 've been appointed. Third-assistant clerk is vacant, ripe for plucking.

  "Canterbury District Court, yes indeed. Pretty town, always liked it.

  Nice'n quiet; sort of country. Not too many girls there, but I drive;

  I got a car, not what you'd call a really nice new car, like some guys I know of, but still, I got a car, and it runs." Merrion drove a maroon 1962 Oldsmobile Cutlass convertible with a white leather interior, white top and white sidewall tires, a cream-puff he'd grabbed the day it came in as a Valley Ford trade-in on a '64 Thunderbird.

  "And you're sure you'll be happy there?" Hilliard said. "You wont be coming to me in a year or so, saying to me: "You got to get me out of this? I know I asked you, do this for me, but I'm losing my mind in that fucking place"?

  "I think the world of you, Ambrose my friend, but I know you, and you like action. And you know me and how I hate going back to the well.

  Doing things over I've already done, 'cause the guy didn't know what he wanted."

  "Remember what you told me years ago, Danny boy?" Merrion said. "I first started working for you and wed won, you were an alderman. And the papers said right off that wasn't what you wanted, even though you just won it. Saying you were aiming to be mayor. And you said:

  "Everyone assumes the job you go after can't be the job that you want.

  Doesn't matter whether it's the one you go after first or the one that you go after next, when you've started moving up. They never think you've gotten where you want to go; some bigger job must be the one you want.

  "The trick's to always keep 'em guessing, say nothing and sit tight.

  Don't rule anything out. While you decide, for your self, which job you want, and why you want it. Then go into high gear, do anything you have to, to get that fucking job. And after you've got it, fake 'em right out of their shorts. Stay as smart as you always were. Keep that lovely job you wanted, and finally quit doing all the shitty stuff you had to do to get it, now you got away with it."

  "Well, that's what I'm doing here now. I thought about it
, and this's the job that I want. I can do something with it. I'm not lookin' for one I'll have to wait and wait to open up, and then when it does fifty other guys want it. I want to get in line now. I get this job I'll move up and retire as the chief clerk. This job's got my name on it.

  "And if you can get it," Hilliard said, because he liked to tease Merrion, 'then will you have any immediate plans to make an honest woman out of Keller?"

  "I'd have to get her calmed down some first," Merrion said. "That could be a tall assignment."

  "You'd have fun trying though," Hilliard said. "All right, I'm in.

  I'll go to work. But you've got some work to do yourself, on Larry Lane. Get to know him and get permission. Kiss his ass if you have to; hold your nose, close your eyes tight and do it. Too bad Roy and Arthur made the new district and built the new courthouse before my time. Be nice if I could just phone Chassy Spring up now, and call the debt. Technically it's his appointment, presiding judge and all, but Lane's the guy you'll work for. Chassy'll probably do it if I ask him, but not without Lane signing off on it. I hope you can work with the guy. I hear he can be a real bastard."

  NINE

  Hilliard's seven-year-old dark-green Mercedes Benz 300D sedan was not in the lot east of the clubhouse when Merrion parked his Eldorado coupe metallic maroon; white leather-grained-vinyl tiara roof, gold nameplates and badges, and narrow-striped whitewall tires. He was nowhere to be seen around the locker room or the putting-practice green. Running true to form: late.

  For him it was like having an irregular pulse: He recognized it as abnormal but lived comfortably with it, so it was all right. Aware that his attitude angered people who had business with other people as well as with him, he considered their reactions excessive and did not become upset. "When I'm late I know sometimes people get pissed off," he said to Rev Peter Healy, a friendly priest and Grey Hills member, irritated by his tardy arrival at a communion breakfast. "I cram a lot into my life, much as I possibly can. Things sometimes take longer than I expect. Therefore I become late getting to the next thing.