The Pursuit of Other Interests: A Novel (23 page)

“Is that an agency?”

“No, it’s a drug company. Pharmaceuticals.”

“Is it in Chicago?”

“Yeah. Downtown.”

“Xanon,” Donna repeated. “I never heard of it.”

“Drugs for animals. Cattle, mostly. Hogs too.”

“What?”

Charlie shrugged. “Hey, it’s not perfect, but I think it pays. I tell you, I’m lucky. I haven’t been out that long. Things are still pretty bad out there. There aren’t a lot of jobs for people like me. I know guys who’ve been out for years. And it’s a good company.”

“What about the old place, the old agency? Can you go back there?” Donna asked.

“They’re laying people off.”

Donna studied her fingernails while he turned down the heat.

“Did you pay that bill for the plumber?” he asked.

“Yes. You saw me do it.”

He sighed. “I wished you hadn’t. Did you transfer funds over from the money market?”

“Yes.”

“Did we have enough in there?”

“Yes. For now.”

“I called the office and they told me they were late with paychecks, that’s why it bounced. Business must be really bad there. I mean
really
bad. I never heard of something like that happening.”

“How long are you getting paid?”

“Another month.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s why Xanon is a good company.”

“That’s why Xanon is a great company,” Charlie said.

He kept his eyes on Kyle as he crossed back over to their side of the street. He was stooping over, trying to make himself seem smaller, if not invisible.

“What’s his punishment going to be?” Donna asked.

“Punishment? What do you mean? Isn’t this enough?”

“No. This wasn’t our punishment.”

Charlie caught himself shrugging and stopped. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d punished Kyle, and wasn’t up on current options. “I don’t know. Maybe we should ground him or something.”

“Maybe we should make him quit the basketball team.”

“What? Oh, no. That’s too harsh. Way too harsh. It’s not like he robbed a bank. Come on. It’s a prank. Jesus. He’s a good kid. He’s not on drugs.”

“How do you know he’s not on drugs?”

“He told us.”

“Charlie.”

“He’s not on drugs.”

“Not yet,” Donna said. “But we have to watch him.”

“Yeah, well, Kyle would never do that. He’s a good kid.”

“He’s no angel,” Donna said. “He’s gotten in trouble before.”

“What do you mean, trouble? Like what?”

“Cutting classes. Not doing homework.”

“When did all that start happening?”

“Last year.”

“How come I didn’t know about this?”

Donna didn’t say anything, and she didn’t have to.

“Well, I’m going to be around more,” Charlie said. “Even if I get a job at Xanon or wherever, I’ll be home more. And I’ll talk with him about this stunt. I’ll deal with it.”

Donna didn’t respond to this either. She went back to looking out the window.

Charlie continued. “Anyway,” he said, “in the grand scheme of things, it really isn’t so bad.” He started the Navigator and moved up a few parking spaces while Kyle half jogged down the street toward the historic square.

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s not that bad. I mean, when I was his age I did some dumb things. I was thrown out of our Christmas dance my senior year in high school. My date and I were caught drinking in the parking lot. I was suspended for a week. I should have been expelled.”

Donna seemed interested in this. She turned and looked at him. “I never heard that. Who did you go with?”

“To the dance? I went with Mary Anne Sullivan. Why?”

“I didn’t know you went out with her.”

“I did.”

“I didn’t know that,” Donna said again.

“Why are you so interested?”

“She was very pretty.”

Charlie nodded proudly. “Yes, she was.” Then he said, “I went out with her a few times,” which wasn’t true at all.

“I can’t believe she went out with you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“She was a cheerleader.”

“So? What’s your point?”

“I mean, you had braces and everything. You were so skinny.”

“I was a teenager. Everyone had braces.” He pretended to sound annoyed, but wasn’t. Though they were only discussing Mary Anne Sullivan and his Christmas dance more than thirty years prior, this was the most Donna and he had talked in months and he wanted to keep the dialogue going (communicate!
Road to Recovery
). Only after diplomatic relations had been officially restored could he inquire about other critical family issues, such as the long-term future of their toilets, her feelings about them being evicted from their home, and the particulars of her relationship with Mr. Lighthouse. The last issue was understandably gnawing at him.

“Mary Anne Sullivan was pretty stupid,” Donna said. “If I remember correctly.”

“Hey. She was smart in the right places.”

“Ha! Right. Like you knew what to do with those places.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t think you had even kissed a girl before me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I was a man of the world when I met you.”

“Yeah, right.” She shook her head when she said this, but was smiling a little.

He turned the radio on, fiddled with the dial, then turned it off. Kyle had momentarily disappeared around the corner in the square.

“How long did it take them to do all these signs? When did they do this?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I think they did it two days ago.”

“I can’t believe they did all of them.”

“I’m sure there were other boys involved. Matt and Kyle won’t say who. Probably boys on the basketball team.”

“Who saw them?”

“I don’t know, someone.”

Charlie shook his head. “I bet Matt was the brains behind this. Kyle isn’t that creative.”

“Kyle is creative.”

“I bet it was Matt’s idea. He writes those plays.”

“Wow, I’m glad you’re so impressed with him. Changing Art to Fart isn’t the mark of a genius, you know.”

“Kyle isn’t assertive enough to do something like this. He’s too laid back. Did you know that he’s playing a dead guy in a play? Or was going to play. A
dead
guy? He wasn’t going to have any lines. He was just going to lie there. Don’t you think that’s strange?”

“Not everyone can be the star.”

“I think that says something about him.” He checked his cell phone, then put it back in his coat pocket. “I had the lead parts in plays in high school.
Music Man
. Do you remember that?”

Donna fell quiet. He glanced over at her leaning against the door, her face tight in thought, then turned and watched Kyle emerge from around the corner. He headed down the block, taking loping strides as he walked. In the streetlights he looked like a lonely, lost giraffe.

“Do you remember
Music Man
? Professor Harold Hill? I sang, I danced?” Charlie snapped his fingers. “My senior year. Come on, you had to remember that. It was a big deal.”

“No.”

“You don’t? I thought you were there.”

“No. Sorry, hard to believe, but I guess I missed the big show.” She unbuckled her seat belt and zipped up her jacket.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to help him.” Donna retrieved an extra marker from her purse.

“I thought you said he had to do this himself.”

“It’s taking too long and it’s cold. He’s going to be there all night and he has school tomorrow.” She opened the door.

“Wait,” Charlie said.

“What?” Donna had one foot outside.

“Just wait.” Charlie sighed. The absolute last thing in the world he wanted to do was go out there and change those signs, which was exactly why, he knew, it was the one thing he had to do. “Get back in the car and give me the marker,” he heard himself say.

“What?”

“I’ll help him. You go home.”

“What?”

“Give me the marker. Give it to me.”

“You’re going to walk home?”

“It’s a few blocks.” Charlie opened his door and immediately felt cold air fill the car. “Go on, now, go home. It’s late. You’re tired. I got this covered. Go on. It’s my turn.”

Donna hesitated before finally leaning over and handing him the marker. Then Charlie got out of the car, zipped up his jacket, and set off in search of his son.

On Friday, about two hours before his interview with Xanon International, Charlie told Ned about his dental prosthesis. He was feeling insecure about things and needed assurances on all levels. They were sitting in the nice conference room, the one with the large windows that overlooked Lake Michigan, reviewing interview techniques, when Charlie let him in on his deep, dark secret.

“A fake tooth?” Ned asked.

“A prosthesis. Can you tell? I’m worried people can tell.”

Ned leaned forward and stared at Charlie’s mouth. “Which one is it?”

Charlie grinned and pointed.

Ned leaned even closer, his face contorted into a grimace as he squinted. “Well, now that you mention it, I guess I can tell.”

Charlie stopped grinning. “What do you mean, you can tell?”

Ned sat back. “It’s a little off-color.” He gestured at his own mouth. “It’s different from the other teeth. Whiter. But just a touch.”

“Whiter? So you mean my other teeth are yellow?”

“Not yellow. But they’re not as white as the imposter.”

“The prosthesis.”

“Right. The imposter is almost too white. How long have you had it?” He peered at Charlie’s mouth again.

“A few weeks.”

Ned nodded in wonderment and in a soft, amazed voice said, “All this time and I had no idea. None whatsoever.”

“Do you think they’ll notice?”

Ned gave Charlie’s mouth one last squint. “No. I think it blends right in with your other teeth. It matches quite well. I think you’ll be fine. I don’t think that will be an issue at all.” He went back to the Rogers & Newman
Guide to Interviews.

“Anyway,” he said, “I assume you’ve researched this company? You’ve done your homework, I assume?”

“I’m set. I did some reading and the recruiter sent over some stuff. I know that company.”

“Excellent! When were they founded, then? What year?”

“What?”

“When were they founded? What year?”

“I don’t know that.”

Ned looked up from the book, concerned. “I thought you did your homework.”

“I didn’t memorize every factoid. It’s not a test.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Charlie! That’s where you’re
very
wrong. It is a test. It is
very
much a test and I highly recommend that you start treating it like one.”

Ned abruptly stood and began pacing, his hands clasped behind his back, his face grim. Churchill in the war room. “Charlie…” he began. “Charlie, walking into a job interview is like walking into the great unknown. Do you know why that is?” He stopped pacing and looked at Charlie, eyes burning. His head was amazingly square that morning, like a portable television set.

“Because you don’t know what to expect,” Charlie said.

“Because you don’t know what to expect,” Ned repeated.

“I read your manual.”

“You did? Excellent!” He pumped a fist, then resumed pacing. “You should know all about energy and passion, then. Energy and passion.”

“I didn’t read that far.”

Ned stopped. “That was Chapter Two.”

Charlie said nothing. His head was developing a small, dull ache, and he was tired. He had spent another near-sleepless night in the guest room, staring at the ceiling, thinking and worrying about everything: Donna, the interview, their finances, now Kyle. It was just all too much. He checked his watch, then massaged his temples with his fingertips.

Ned, unaware of Charlie’s precarious state, forged ahead. “You should have at least read that chapter, you really should have,” he said. “Energy and passion are essential during an interview. You have to show, you have to communicate, that you
want
the job.” With that, he whirled around and dramatically pointed at Charlie like a prosecuting attorney might during a climactic point in a trial. “Do you
want
this job?”

Charlie paused. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Possibly,” Charlie said calmly. His headache was growing.

“Possibly?” Ned clenched his hands into a fist. “Not good enough! Not good enough at all, mister! It can’t be
possibly
, it can’t be
maybe
. You must want it. Want it!”

“Okay, I
want
it.”

“You don’t sound very convincing.”

“I’ll be more convincing in the interview, okay? Besides, I really don’t know if I want it yet. I haven’t even talked to them.”

Ned conceded this point. “Fair enough, I suppose. But regardless, you must convey great interest and enthusiasm. Convince them you’re interested. Very interested.” He began walking again. “If you didn’t get past Chapter Two, then I suspect you don’t know anything about the Big C.”

“The Big C.”

“Chapter Three. The Big C is essential. You must have it if you have any hope of succeeding in an interview. Do you know what the Big C is, what I’m referring to?”

Charlie continued to rub his temples. “I don’t know.”

“Take a guess.”

“I don’t know.”

“Guess.”

“Cancer.”

“Charisma!”

“Oh.”

“Yes, charisma is important. It’s essential that you’re as charismatic as possible in an interview. May I make a very basic suggestion when it comes to enhancing your charisma? A small, simple trick?” Ned once again pointed at Charlie.

“What?”

Ned thrust his extended index finger at Charlie. “Point.”

“Point?”

Ned jabbed at the air with his finger. “Yes, point when you’re talking. It’s very effective. There’s been studies. Charismatic people point. Now, may I offer another suggestion when it comes to the Big C?”

Charlie remained silent. On one hand, he appreciated what Ned was trying to do; on the other, he had a sudden desire to push him out the window.

“Wink,” Ned said.

Charlie’s head throbbed harder. He glanced at the windows. He would probably have to break them first with a chair, then throw Ned out.

“Yes, winking implies a certain playful confidence, a can-do, cocksure spirit. Combined with pointing, it can be extremely effective.” Ned winked and pointed at Charlie. “See how easy it is? Wink and point, wink and point. After a while, it will seem like second nature. Come, now, let’s practice. You can wink first, then point, if you’d like. You might find that easier.”

“That’s it, that’s enough. I can’t do this right now. I just can’t.
Please!
” He shouted this last word.

Charlie’s outburst caught Ned in mid-wink. His one open eye bulged with surprise. He slowly put his finger away. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I know you are, but I’m not in the mood for this right now.”

Ned gave Charlie a searching look.

“Can you please open up your other eye?” Charlie asked.

“Oh. Sorry. Let’s move on, then, try something else. Let’s do some role-playing.”

“Not that again.”

“Now, I’m going to ask you some potential questions. Questions you might expect in the interview.”

“I don’t have time. I don’t have time for any of this.”

“Yes, you do.”

Charlie glanced at his watch. “Hurry.”

Ned quickly walked back over to Charlie and sat down across the table from him. He put a finger up to his lips.

“Charles,” he said. “What would you say is your greatest weakness?”

“Charles?”

Ned nodded. “Yes, Charles. I was thinking you might want to start going by Charles, rather than Charlie. Charles is more dignified. Charlie, well, Good Time Charlie or Choo-Choo Charlie come to mind.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“It’s just a thought. A new job, a new beginning, a new name.”

Charlie glared at him.

“I would consider it,” Ned said.

Charlie continued to glare.

“Right, anyway. Char
lie
, what do you think you can bring to this organization?”

“Experience,” Charlie said immediately.

“Excellent. In what area?”

“In every area.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“How specific do you want me to be?”

It was now Ned’s turn to be exasperated. “Well, very!”

“Fine.” Charlie swallowed and his mind instantly went blank. Ned’s square head zoomed in on him, a box of worry and concern.

“Can you stop looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like that. With your big square head.”

“My big square what?” Ned touched the side of his face.

“You’re overdoing this.” Charlie knew that he should be focusing on the interview, but his mind was on Donna. She had risen early that morning and had left the house before he had, which was very unusual. He had no idea where she was, or, more importantly, who she was with. His arms tingled and he took a couple of deep breaths.

“Charlie, are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

Ned stepped closer and examined Charlie’s face. “You look tired.”

“I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Ned nodded. “Well, that’s only natural. You’re nervous over this interview. It’s a big opportunity.”

Charlie swallowed. “It’s not just that.”

“Oh,” Ned said. “It’s something else?”

Charlie paused. “Yes. I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what? Oh, is it your family, may I ask? Your wife?”

Charlie paused again, then said, “Yes.”

“I see. I see. Things aren’t going well?”

“Not really, no.”

“I see.” Ned tapped the tip of his nose with a long, skinny finger. “This is common, you know. The strain when one spouse—”

“Can I ask you a question? Am I a bad person? I mean, from what you know of me?”

Ned was taken aback by this question. His eyes grew worried. “Why would you ask such a question?”

“From what you know of me. Am I obnoxious? Really obnoxious?”

Ned grimaced again and he began slowly, “Well, to be frank, you do have a temper. I’ve noticed that. I think you have to work on that.”

“Temper?”

“Nothing major, but you have one and I think it gets in the way of things. Anyway, we’re getting sidetracked here. I think you should really knock them dead in the interview and then go out with some friends tonight and just, you know, relax, have a good time.” Ned punched the air when he said this. “You need to take a break from things, I think.”

Charlie sadly nodded his head. “Friends. I don’t have any friends.”

“Oh, now, that’s ridiculous. Of course you do. Everyone has friends. Even I have friends.”

“Sorry, not me. I thought I did, but I don’t. No one cares what happens to me, no one has offered to help.”

“Now I think you’re feeling sorry for yourself.”

“No. I’m being honest. I’m like Tamales. Maybe worse, I’m a phony. I bought all these stupid books on Lincoln and leadership and I’ve never read any of them. I only read the ads in
The New Yorker.
I have a piano I can’t play. I’m a fake, a phony. Like my tooth.” Charlie said all this very softly while looking down at the table.

“I assure you, you are nothing like Tamales.”

“I don’t know. It’s like I woke up and I don’t know anything anymore. I used to think I knew things, like how to be a husband, a father, a…a friend. But I don’t know how to do any of that anymore.”

“That feeling isn’t that uncommon,” Ned quietly said. “Life can be confusing at times.”

Charlie continued, “You get caught up in all the daily shit and you don’t think. Can’t think. Where did it all get me? All the hours, all the sacrifice? Look at me. Look at me now. I’m nothing. I would have been better off working at Gas City.”

“Where? Is that a town?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

Ned studied Charlie with his intense eyes. Finally, he said, “Would you like to hear my theory?”

Charlie shrugged. “What’s your theory?”

“Well,” Ned started, “I’ve always suspected that work gives you an excuse not to think. I’ve always thought that work is sort of a distraction. For most of my clients, at least at the executive level, work is just a game. They rationalize what they’re doing is important. The activity, the motion, helps them avoid certain truths, keeps them from admitting certain things to themselves.”

“Like?”

“That maybe it’s sometimes easier to jump on a plane or go to a meeting than it is to be at home. Sometimes work is the easier way out. Work is an excuse.”

Charlie considered what Ned said. “I don’t know about that. Maybe. I don’t know though.”

They both fell quiet, then Ned said, “We should really get back to—”

Charlie cut him off. “Let me ask you another question here. Something else that has been on my mind.”

“All right. Fire away.”

“What would you do…what would you do if, say, your wife slept with another man?”

Ned’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Let me clarify that: You
think
she’s slept with another man. Or is sleeping with. I don’t have proof. I haven’t had confirmation on that. She won’t discuss it.”

“If your wife is sleeping with another man,” Ned said.

“Yes. What would you do?”

Ned looked very uncomfortable. His face began to splotch. “To start, I guess I would ask her to immediately stop. I would insist.”

“Thanks.” Charlie let out a terrific sigh. “Good idea. Do you have a pen? Let me write that down.” He slunk down in his chair. “The problem is that I still think I love her.”

“Why is that a problem?”

“Because if she’s had an affair, I’m not sure I can get past that.”

“Even though you still love her?”

“Yes.”

“I imagine that would be difficult,” Ned said.

“I’m not sure what to do. How to handle this. I mean, she should be apologizing to me, making things right, but I’m the one making all the effort here. I’m the one still trying.”

“Sounds like she’s given up,” Ned said.

Ned’s comment shook Charlie. “Given up. Wow.”

“I shouldn’t have said that. I really shouldn’t have. I don’t even know her.”

“Given up,” Charlie said again. “Maybe she has. I don’t know. Man, I hope not. Of course, most of this is probably my fault.”

Ned stood and walked over to the large windows, his hands clasped behind his back. He cleared his throat, then spoke. “Love, relationships, they’re all a mystery to me. I’m afraid I can’t help you much in this regard. I have little wisdom on matters of that sort. I’ve never been very successful with women. So, I guess, my only piece of advice is to keep trying. If you want something, just keep going. If you love her, I mean. The heart has a way of prevailing.”