“Some more than others.” Josef kicked out his chair and went to the pool table. “Hey, boss,” he addressed cowboy hat. “Did you go to Hudson High?”
“I did.”
“I knew it! Chad, right?”
“Ken.”
“Ken! Yes! I was so close! Mind if I hop on and get the winner? I’m feeling on tonight.”
“Uh, sure.”
“Great! I’ll get quarters.”
“You do that.”
“Oh, I will!”
Relaxed-fit-jeans guy bent over and pocketed the 8-ball.
“What’s your name, buddy?” Josef asked.
He came around the table. “Ralph,” he said, putting out a hand.
Josef pumped his eyebrows, but Ralph seemed not to notice.
“Hey,” Ralph said, leaning in and adopting a hushed tone, “who’s the blonde?”
“That’s my sister you’re talking about!”
“Your sister is a smoking hottie,” Ralph said.
“If you beat me, you can buy her a drink.”
“I need your permission?”
“You sure do, partner!”
“What’s with all the boss talk?” Ralph said.
“Well, Kenny’s got the hat thing going,” Josef said. “I thought maybe you guys were cowboys.”
“You’re a funny guy,” Ken said.
“I am,” Josef said. “So, Ralphie, you won . . . me and you, all right? Battle to the death.”
“Whatever,” Ralph said. “Rack ’em.”
The liquor was kicking in and so was Josef’s self-destructive bravado. If Dr. Hammerstein had been there and asked him to describe how he was feeling at that moment, he would have said, “Sad.” He’d fucked the BellWeather Capital thing, he knew that. Royally enough so that it was most likely DOA. It didn’t mean he couldn’t try to forget his problems, here and now, with these two idiots. “Quarters!” he said. “Hand them over.”
Charlie dug through her purse. Melody had two in her pocket. He went back and pushed the coins through. The balls released with a thwomp and cascaded down. He racked.
“He’s drunk,” Armie said.
“I’m drunk,” Charlie said.
Melody surveyed the bar over the top of her sunglasses. “Did I already say it smells like poop in here?”
“You did,” Armie said.
“You grew up here?” Melody asked. It was unclear whom she was addressing.
“Not in this bar,” Armie said.
“We moved when I was two,” Charlie said.
“What about you?” she asked Audrey.
“What about me?”
“What’s your story?”
“I’m a teacher.”
“You should move to California,” Melody said.
“I should?”
“It’s great. You’d love it.”
Charlie reached across the table and put her hand on Armie’s hand. “How’re you holding up?”
“Fine,” Armie said. “I guess.”
“So we’re selling this painting,” she said.
“Looks that way.”
“You’ll miss it?”
“I miss Dad, and the painting was Dad’s big thing.”
“I wasn’t even there.”
“Neither was I! There was no way to know.”
“I wish I’d been there. I wish Abbott had been able to see his grandpa one more time. He won’t remember him. Isn’t that just so sad?”
“You’re going to make me cry,” Melody said.
At the pool table, Josef could not hold the cue tightly because of the hand wound and he scratched twice and Ralph took an early lead and the game was over rather quickly.
“Let’s go again,” Josef said.
“You’re looking a little wobbly, pal,” Ken said.
“I’m fine. Let’s make it interesting?”
“Nah,” Ralph said, “I feel bad taking your money.”
“You ain’t much of a pool player,” Ken said. “No offense.”
“None taken!” Josef said. “How about this? We play doubles? Me and my little brother against the two of you.”
“I’m not playing!” Armie called out.
“Sure you are,” Josef said.
“How much you wanna lose?” Ralph said.
Josef threw up his hands. “I can stand to lose two hundred. What do you think about that?”
“I think you’re crazy,” Ralph said.
“You got it on you?” Ken said.
“Fuck right I got it on me.” Josef made a big show of pulling his billfold out of his pocket. He peeled off five $100 bills and laid them out on the side of the table, smoothing each down neatly.
“You said two hundred,” Ken pointed out.
“And here for a second I thought you were a real man. Fine. Two hundred it is.” Josef pocketed three of the bills.
“I’m not playing,” Armie said again.
Josef went over to him. “Don’t embarrass me. We can take these guys.”
“Seriously, Josef, I’m not.”
“Do you want me to beg you? Is that it? Do you want me on bended knee? What will it take?” He got on his knees. He put his hands on Armie’s legs and bowed his head in mock supplication. “O great Armand Westfall. The Lord, your God, begs you to assist his humble servant Josef, your brother, in the noble quest to vanquish these two douchey guys and make two hundred dollars, which he, your brother, will split with you sixty-forty.”
“You know he’s not going to stop until you say yes,” Charlie said.
“You should play,” Audrey said. “I bet you are good!”
“It’s not funny!” Armie said, pushing Josef off his legs. “Get up. I’ll play. Fine, I’ll play. Just get up. Just stop. What a fucking nightmare.”
Josef stood and straightened his pants. His phone buzzed in his pocket.
Nora: I’m not about to fuck you in your parents’ bathroom or something creepy like that. You pervert.
Josef: I’ll get a room.
“If we win I want the two hundred,” Armie said.
“That leaves me with nothing.”
“Correct,” Armie said.
“Shrewd businessman. Deal!”
He put out his hand and Armie shook it. Josef went to the bar for more quarters. The phone kept buzzing.
Nora: Motel 6? I don’t think so.
Josef: Just get that amazing ass up here.
Ken racked. They did Rock, Paper, Scissors (best of three) to determine who had the break.
“I’m a master of Rock, Paper, Scissors,” Josef said, pushing Armie aside.
He lost, having his Rock covered both times by Paper.
Ralph chalked the cue stick.
“Hurry up,” Josef told him.
Ralph broke. It was a weak shot, but the 7-ball went down and so did the 12. He walked around the table and sank the 13-ball.
“I’m fine with solids,” Josef said. “Just fine.”
Ken grinned and strolled over to Melody. “Enjoy watching your brother lose?” he asked her.
“Go fuck yourself,” Melody told him.
“You’re feisty!” Ken said.
Ralph missed his next shot and Josef stepped up. He closed one eye and lined up a bead on the 3, which was positioned close to the far corner pocket. He adopted a light-gripped approach with the cut palm. He sank his first shot but missed wide on the next, sending the 6 caroming off the sidewall into the larger thicket of balls clustered at center table. Ken was next. “Wish me luck,” he said to Melody, winking at her.
He missed and pretended to snap the cue stick over his knee in anguish, while Josef cough-yelled, “Choke!” into his hand.
Armie surveyed the table and ran the chalk over the top of his stick. He pocketed the 4 and then quickly the 2. Audrey clapped. Armie circled, paused briefly to nick the 5, sending it drifting into the 1-ball, which fell into a side pocket. He then sank the 5 into the same pocket. Melody pushed her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose and
stopped paying attention. The pool table now sat cluttered with striped balls.
“You got this one,” Charlie said.
“Do it, Armie!” Audrey said.
Melody started to eat pretzels.
Josef walked up and down, rubbing his fingers together in a “moneymaking” gesture.
“Don’t be an asshole,” Ken told Josef, which Josef apparently did not hear, because he continued to make the gesture.
Armie knelt and followed the geometrical line of the 6-ball. He was now facing down a royally hard two-shot finish. He stood and leaned over the table and took aim. He pushed and pulled the tip of the stick, bringing it within millimeters of the cue ball. He struck hard. The 6-ball flew out of the cluster, bounded off the side rail, and rolled out across the open expanse of felt to the far end of the table. It drifted toward the corner pocket. Josef hooted. Audrey clapped. Melody yawned. Armie tilted his head to watch. The 6-ball rolled. It slowed. It wasn’t going to make it. It was going to make it. It did make it. It fell.
Josef jumped up and threw his arms around Ralph and kissed him on the cheek.
“I will beat your ass,” Ralph said, pushing Josef away and holding up a threatening finger.
Armie went around the table, continuing the circle, and drained the easy finishing shot on the 8-ball.
Josef slapped the felt. “Pay up!”
“Rematch,” Ralph said. “Double or nothing.”
Audrey gave Armie a congratulatory hug and kiss on the cheek. Armie was happier about this hug and kiss than he had been about anything in recent memory.
Ken leaned on his cue stick. “You are so pretty,” he told Melody. “You know, if you wanted, I think you could be a movie star.”
“Unless you’re buying me a drink,” Melody said, “get lost.”
Ken hustled off triumphantly to the bar.
Armie wasn’t sure if Ken or Ralph planned to pay Josef the two hundred dollars, and before he had a chance to inquire and for reasons not quite apparent to anyone present but in all likelihood largely due to that fact that Josef had opted to hug Ralph again, Ralph and Josef engaged in a standing half nelson wherein Josef’s head became lodged in the crook of Ralph’s elbow and Ralph began to rain noogies down on the top of Josef’s head and Josef in turn swung his one free arm, attempting (and failing) to connect retaliatory facial and/or body blows.
Ken came rushing back with Melody’s drink, dropped it, and in the flurry to separate Josef and Ralph, lost his cowboy hat, which Melody picked up and swapped for her own floppy hat. She began to mock-line-dance.
“Let him go, Randy,” Charlie yelled, yanking on Ralph’s arm. “Let him go!”
“His name is Ralph,” Melody pointed out.
Ralph acquiesced and released Josef, who stumbled forward, sprawling onto the pool table and sending the remaining balls scattering. He sprang back, fists in the air, with the 14-ball in his clutches and charged Ralph, who dodged him, extended a leg, and sent Josef flying onto a table. He went down in a tangled heap, taking a grip of empty beer bottles with him.
The bartender and a large man in leather pants, whom no one had seen until that point, instructed everyone to leave by saying, “Get the fuck out!”
“We were just leaving!” Charlie said.
“This is so embarrassing,” Armie said.
Melody took the pretzels with her.
The bouncer grabbed Josef and Ralph and forcibly aided their exits.
As he was dragged out, Josef imparted some final words to the entire bar, most of whom were standing watching by now.
“My father just died,” he said, “so you can all go fuck yourselves!”
As she passed, Melody put Ken’s hat back on his head and kissed him on the cheek.
On the street Josef and Ralph grappled some more, quite feebly, the end result of which was Josef receiving a left hook to the eye.
“Thank you,” Armie said, shaking Ralph’s hand. “I’ve been wanting to see someone do that for years!”
“You want to get a few shots in?” Ken invited Armie. “We can hold him down and you can punch him in the dick.”
Melody got in the middle of the whole thing. “Okay, okay. Let’s all just calm down. I think there’s been enough dick punching tonight.”
Ken looked at her and nodded. “For you,” he said, “I’ll let the prick go.”
“You’re lucky I don’t beat your ass!” Josef said.
“Watch it, asshole,” Ken said. “I’m being nice because your sister is a hottie.”
“I’m not his sister,” Melody said at the same time that Charlie said, “Why, thank you.”
Ken and Ralph stumbled off into the black night but not before Ken tipped his cowboy hat to Melody and told her to “call me!” He seemed to overlook the fact that no numbers had been exchanged.
“I’ll find you!” Josef shouted at their backs as they went, which made Audrey burst out laughing.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t be laughing!”
Charlie started to cry.
Josef looked at her. “Typical!” he said, and then Melody also began to cry. Charlie and Melody hugged. “Why are you hugging?” Josef wanted to know.
“You’re such an idiot,” Armie told Josef. “Is it your mission in life to ruin everything?”
“You’ve got no one to blame for your problems but yourself,” Josef said. “Who told you to tie up all your money in a mineral company, anyway?”
“You did!” Armie said.
“You might want to think about checking yourself back in to that place in Katonah,” Josef said. “I think you’re still depressed.”
“That’s just great,” Armie said. “Thank you for bringing that up in front of everyone.”
“It’s okay,” Audrey said. “I don’t mind.”
Josef was referring to Armie’s two-month voluntary stint in the Katonah, New York, mental facility Four Winds, for depression, a few years prior, which the de facto family protocol had been for no one to ever mentioned this period of Armie’s past.
“I just want us all to stop fighting,” Charlie said.
“Thanks for coming out tonight, Audrey,” Armie said. He was less nervous than usual and attributed it to the rush of adrenaline he was experiencing. “It’s nice to see you.”
“My pleasure,” Audrey said.
“How bad does my eye look?” Josef asked.
They all looked at him. There was blood trickling out in a thin line down his cheek and it looked quite bad indeed.
* * *
They returned to the Warren Street house to find Rey Perrin in the living room drinking tea with Ana. Conversation in the Sky was down off the wall, propped on the ledge of the mantel for better vantage while Rey pointed to details of the work, giving, what appeared to Charlie, a mini-lecture on Magritte’s life. When he saw the ragtag crew funnel raucously through the front door into the foyer, he stopped mid-sentence.
“Well, whaddya know!” Charlie said. “The art critic.”
“Film critic,” Rey said. “I just happen to adore Magritte. Have you been drinking?”
Charlie went straight to the kitchen.
“Who the fuck are you?” Josef asked.
“I’m Charlie’s husband,” Rey said. Josef shrugged. “We’ve met numerous times.”
“Yeah, right!” Josef said, waving his hand. “You don’t look anything like that guy!” Rey went after Charlie. “I need gauze,” Josef said.
“Keep your voice down,” Ana said. Josef went to the painting and picked it up, holding it between his palms by the frame edges, careful not to get blood on it. “Put it down, Josef.”
“I’m not gonna fuck it up.” He held it up to the light and tilted its surface to get a better look.
“How was Dustin?” Melody asked, slumping into a chair.
“An angel,” Ana said. “I haven’t heard a peep from either of them.”
Melody pulled the wig off her head and unpinned her hair and shook it out.
>
Josef put his face close to the canvas. “Do we even know if this thing’s real?”
“Of course it’s real,” Armie said.
“Why on earth wouldn’t it be real?” Ana asked.
“I don’t know. I’m just saying. When was the last time anyone looked at it?”
“Someone’s coming tomorrow to look,” Ana said.
“Tomorrow?” Armie said.
“Who?” Josef asked.
“Arthur McCreary.”
“The bald guy Dad used to fish with?” Josef said.
“He’d be here anyway,” Ana said. “I don’t see why we should wait.”
“So that’s it,” Armie said. “We’ve decided.”
“I’ve decided, yes,” Ana said.
“We don’t even get a chance to talk about it?”
“I’m not going to disobey your father’s last requests.”
“It’s disrespectful,” Josef said.
“Don’t pretend you care about what he wanted,” Armie said.
“Josef,” Ana said. “Don’t provoke your brother.”
Josef lowered his head and set the painting down on the mantel, leaning it against the wall. “Sorry, Mom.”
“I’m a little drunk,” Melody said.
Ana asked, “What happened to your face?”
“Sucker punch,” Josef said.
“You deserved it,” Melody said.
“We won, though, right, Armand?”
“And all we had do was forgo our dignity,” Armie said.
“Oh, give me a break!” Josef said. “You had fun. Admit it.”
Josef put his hand up and Armie reluctantly high-fived him. Josef started for the kitchen and Armie said, “Charlie and Rey are in there.”
“I just need to grab something.”
“Can’t it wait?” Armie asked. Josef kept walking. “Josef, can’t it—”
He’d already gone and in a moment he returned with an ice pack. “They’re fighting,” he whispered.
Josef went to the study and sat at George’s desk and held the ice pack against his eye and with his other, not-cut hand he opened his laptop, which he’d left there earlier, and clicked a video application and began recording himself.
“What are you doing?” Armie asked.
“I just wanted to say a few things. Talk about some stuff. For posterity. Everyone deals with grief in different ways,” he called out to the living room in general. No one answered him. “Everyone deals with grief in their own way. My way is to make a video.”
The Antiques Page 19
