Chapter 41
The next day, as Kix and I took turns rolling cars down the stairs, laughing like maniacs as they crashed and frustrated our faithful hound GPA, my phone rang. Nicky Pajamas was calling.
“Yo August,” he said. Sounded like he was chewing something. “I did you a favor, man, I canceled your boy Buchanan’s interest and I quit taking his bets. Like we agreed, right? But he isn’t playing ball.”
“What’s he doing?”
“Buchanan told me, he said if I don’t take his bets, if I cut him off, then he doesn’t have to pay his debt. You believe that shit?” he said.
“Yeah I can believe it. He’s educated but not but wise.”
“I’m ready to send Daryush to his place. You told me to keep clear of his house, but this piece of garbage needs to learn. A couple visits from Daryush, that big scary Indian-looking monster, and if that don’t work, Daryush can get sweet with the wife.”
“Don’t send Daryush yet,” I said. “And if you ever scare Mrs. Buchanan with him, I will feed you to my dog, Pajamas. Slowly. Starting with your feet.”
“That’s disgusting, August. Did you see the line this weekend on Michigan? They always shit the bed after Thanksgiving. This is the time to drop ten large, August, trust me.”
I hung up on him and asked Timothy August to watch Kix for an hour, and I drove the mile across Grandin to Dr. Buchanan’s house. I’d rather not do this, but he forced my hand.
I knocked on the door and Mrs. Buchanan answered. The lovely, doting wife of Dr. Buchanan, Kix’s teacher. She managed a smile and confusion at the same time, opening the glass door.
“Strange as it may seem,” I told her, “I’m here to speak to your husband.”
“Of course, come on in. He’s watching a soccer game, of all things, if you can believe it.”
“I believe it. He’s educated but not wise,” I said.
“Beg your pardon?”
“I’ll wait out here. He and I need to take a walk,” I said.
“Is something wrong, Mr. August?”
“Never better.”
“Okay, well, before I go, tell Mr. Martinez that I enjoyed his Minutes,” she said.
“Minutes? You read Manny’s movie review online?” I asked, surprised Elijah could get anyone to read anything.
“Yes! And his cocktail recipe. Please tell him I’ll watch the movie, but I won’t try the cocktail. I don’t go much for tequila.”
“Will do,” I said, but I didn’t remember them talking about tequila. Elijah must have called him later.
“Are you sure everything is okay?” she asked.
I shot her a thumbs up.
She gave me worried, and she nodded and closed the door, wandering deeper into the house, out of my sight.
A minute later, the dapper Dr. Buchanan emerged.
He wore leather loafers and linen pants and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up.
He shut the door and lowered his head, like looking at me over his reading glasses even though he didn’t wear any. He sighed with exasperation.
“You dress better than your wife,” I said. “Does she not get a clothing allowance?”
“First you pry into my personal life. Next you arrive unannounced at my place of employment. Now, you’re knocking on my door, despite being most unwelcome.”
Mrs. Buchanan watched from a window, so I kept my voice low.
“I stopped the interest on your betting account,” I told him. “Saving you thousands. You’re welcome. I told him not to accept more bets, saving you thousands more. You’re welcome. He wants to send a giant scary man after you, but I called him off. For now. You’re welcome.”
“You are confused, Mr. August. If—”
“You’re a jackass, Dr. Buchanan, and perhaps a narcissist. I’m only here as a final warning. I told him to stay away from your wife but I can’t promise he will.”
He chuckled, like I was a student failing his class and begging for extensions. “Mrs. Buchanan has dealt with thugs before. She’s tougher than she looks. Her trust in me is complete. I could shoot you on my front lawn and she’d deny it to the police.”
“Don’t toy with Daryush. He’ll hurt you and not even remember it the next day.”
“I’ll find other places to gamble, Mr. August. I’m a gentleman gambler and I’ll always be accepted.”
“If you don’t pay Pajamas, you won’t be a gentleman for long,” I told him.
“These bookies, they’re all talk. They never do much damage. After all, I have a degree from—”
“From Jackass University, I know.” I turned to leave. “Good luck, Doctor. Though it seems like you’ve never had any.”
“Excuse me?” called Mrs. Buchanan, pushing through the door to stand behind her husband. “Mr. August? What’s this about?”
I felt sick. I didn’t want to do this. I hated spouse stuff.
“I’ll tell you what this is about, dear,” said Dr. Buchanan.
“The nettling women at your school hired Mr. August to follow me. They told him I was unfaithful to you, and you know what Mr. August did? He followed me. And do you know what he uncovered? Nothing. No sign of infidelity. I’ve never been unfaithful, dear, and I never will.
But now he’s here, demanding I pay him, or else he’ll make up lies to hurt our marriage. ”
“Mr. August.” Her shoulders drooped. “I’m so disappointed.”
I didn’t respond.
“I don’t know why, wherever we go, people can’t leave my husband alone. His success and his charm and his brains, they cause such jealousy.”
I steeled myself to the hard task. “Here’s the truth, Mrs. Buchanan.”
“I don’t want to hear your lies, Mr. August.”
“You’ve had to move so often because your husband gets into enormous gambling debt, and he’s forced to sell your house to keep the bad men away. He tried to extort the publisher—”
“Mr. August,” she said.
“—of American Hedonism to get more money out of that deal. It was blackmail but it didn’t work, and now he’s in more debt, and I’m trying to help him, but he won’t listen, because he’s an arrogant prick with an addiction, and if you’re smart you’ll wonder why all the assets are in his name—”
“Mr. August.”
“—because it keeps you attached to him, financially. If a scary man shows up, it’s because your husband is a liar and a gambler and he’s putting you in harm’s way instead of dealing with—”
“Mr. August. I’m done listening. You’re a liar and I won’t listen to another word!
” She shouted it, leaning towards me with a body full of anger and fear.
“I don’t need this. I don’t need you, I don’t need those women at that school, and I don’t need that job.
I refuse to work with people who smear the good name of my husband.
Go home, Mr. August, or I’ll call for the police! ”
She marched inside and slammed the door, and we heard a loud sob. I felt a little dizzy. Running into unexpected codependence was jarring. I hadn’t guessed how deeply the marital disorder went.
Dr. Buchanan kinda bounced on his toes, hands in his pockets. He shot me a wink. “You see? I could shoot you. And she’d deny it. That’s a good woman.”
“She is a good woman. Corrupted by you.” I walked to my car. “You two have a hard lesson coming, though you might not see it until he knocks on your door.”
I drove away with sour guilt roiling in my gut. The truth had ricocheted harmlessly off her, resulting in her blaming me instead of her husband. I steered for Fresh Market. Tonight felt like a good night for beer.