cognac glasses in hand.
“What do you think?” Jack said.
“About what?”
“Everything. So far.”
Everything was a lot: Fearless , JFK’s herb garden, Packer’s .303, the letter in the wastebasket, Mandy. “Unreal,” he said.
Jack laughed. “That’s what we’re pitching, all right.” He glanced up at the bar. Packer was leaning over the table, pointing out something in the plans. Trimble wasn’t looking at whatever it was; he watched Packer’s animated profile. “He’s worth twenty mill, bro,” Jack said.
“How do you know?”
“Evelyn. Her dad was Trimble’s lawyer, when he was just starting out. Evelyn’s dad is a very useful guy.”
Something made a loud splash in the water, not far out.
“Fifteen footer,” Jack said.
“Shark?”
“That’s where they live. I’ve seen a dozen since I got here.”
“You’re going to need a special kind of tourist.”
Jack checked the bar again. “We don’t have to worry about it yet. Our worry is the shark over there.” Trimble had his hand over his glass.
“How did you meet them?” Eddie asked.
“The Packers? It’s a long story. And boring.” Jack sipped some cognac. “I’m starting to like this stuff.”
“Tell me about SC.”
“What about it?”
“What was it like?”
“Hard to say. In a word.”
“Did you like it?”
“Sure.”
Down the beach, Evelyn and Mrs. Packer emerged from the darkness; or rather, their white dresses did, floating over the sand. Their legs, arms, heads, were invisible.
“Then why did you leave?” Eddie said.
“I told you already.”
“That was it?” Eddie said, giving Jack a chance to bring up the letter.
“Sure. What else?”
There was another splash in the water, bigger, closer.
“But what if this doesn’t work out?”
“It will.”
“But what if it doesn’t? What if Trimble turns him down?”
“Trimble’s not our only shot.”
“But what if everyone turns him down? What will you have to fall back on?”
“This island has a lot of resources.”
“You mean you’d stay here?”
“Why not?”
“What kind of future is that?”
“You can be pretty dumb sometimes, Eddie.” Jack took another drink. There were scratches on his hand and forearm.
Eddie walked away for a moment; he had to, when Jack made him mad. Soon he had a thought, came back.
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you meet the Packers there?”
“Where?”
“SC.”
Jack’s voice rose. “You’re full of questions all of a sudden. Like the caring mom we never had. Is that what your role’s going to be?”
“Lay off,” Eddie said. Packer and Trimble were watching them. “Why shouldn’t I be interested in SC? I’m going to be there for four years.”
An inward look appeared in Jack’s eyes. “That’s true,” he said, quietly now. He took another drink. “I met Brad through SC, if you must know. It’s not a secret.”
“What’s he got to do with SC?”
“He’s an alum. Swim-team booster. Okay?”
Eddie nodded.
“He’s not a bad guy, Eddie.” Eddie said nothing. Jack punched him in the ribs, not hard. “Why don’t you just cut your fucking hair?”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Yeah, I’m joking.”
The women were closer now; their legs, arms, faces took shape in the moonlight.
“Can you go back?” Eddie said.
“Back where?”
“SC.”
“There’s more than one bore here tonight. What’s the matter? Scared to go away to school all by your lonesome?”
Now Eddie’s voice rose. “I didn’t mean now. Someday. Would you still have your scholarship?”
Jack looked up at the bar. Packer and Trimble were watching them again. “You don’t get it, do you?” said Jack, keeping his voice down. “I’ve outgrown all that nickel-and-diming. School is a means to an end. I’m at the end already.”
9
C hampagne and cognac: a destablizing combination, new to Eddie. It made him restless, made him want to move, to disconnect from the grown-up world. He didn’t
“What do you think?” Jack said.
“About what?”
“Everything. So far.”
Everything was a lot: Fearless , JFK’s herb garden, Packer’s .303, the letter in the wastebasket, Mandy. “Unreal,” he said.
Jack laughed. “That’s what we’re pitching, all right.” He glanced up at the bar. Packer was leaning over the table, pointing out something in the plans. Trimble wasn’t looking at whatever it was; he watched Packer’s animated profile. “He’s worth twenty mill, bro,” Jack said.
“How do you know?”
“Evelyn. Her dad was Trimble’s lawyer, when he was just starting out. Evelyn’s dad is a very useful guy.”
Something made a loud splash in the water, not far out.
“Fifteen footer,” Jack said.
“Shark?”
“That’s where they live. I’ve seen a dozen since I got here.”
“You’re going to need a special kind of tourist.”
Jack checked the bar again. “We don’t have to worry about it yet. Our worry is the shark over there.” Trimble had his hand over his glass.
“How did you meet them?” Eddie asked.
“The Packers? It’s a long story. And boring.” Jack sipped some cognac. “I’m starting to like this stuff.”
“Tell me about SC.”
“What about it?”
“What was it like?”
“Hard to say. In a word.”
“Did you like it?”
“Sure.”
Down the beach, Evelyn and Mrs. Packer emerged from the darkness; or rather, their white dresses did, floating over the sand. Their legs, arms, heads, were invisible.
“Then why did you leave?” Eddie said.
“I told you already.”
“That was it?” Eddie said, giving Jack a chance to bring up the letter.
“Sure. What else?”
There was another splash in the water, bigger, closer.
“But what if this doesn’t work out?”
“It will.”
“But what if it doesn’t? What if Trimble turns him down?”
“Trimble’s not our only shot.”
“But what if everyone turns him down? What will you have to fall back on?”
“This island has a lot of resources.”
“You mean you’d stay here?”
“Why not?”
“What kind of future is that?”
“You can be pretty dumb sometimes, Eddie.” Jack took another drink. There were scratches on his hand and forearm.
Eddie walked away for a moment; he had to, when Jack made him mad. Soon he had a thought, came back.
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you meet the Packers there?”
“Where?”
“SC.”
Jack’s voice rose. “You’re full of questions all of a sudden. Like the caring mom we never had. Is that what your role’s going to be?”
“Lay off,” Eddie said. Packer and Trimble were watching them. “Why shouldn’t I be interested in SC? I’m going to be there for four years.”
An inward look appeared in Jack’s eyes. “That’s true,” he said, quietly now. He took another drink. “I met Brad through SC, if you must know. It’s not a secret.”
“What’s he got to do with SC?”
“He’s an alum. Swim-team booster. Okay?”
Eddie nodded.
“He’s not a bad guy, Eddie.” Eddie said nothing. Jack punched him in the ribs, not hard. “Why don’t you just cut your fucking hair?”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Yeah, I’m joking.”
The women were closer now; their legs, arms, faces took shape in the moonlight.
“Can you go back?” Eddie said.
“Back where?”
“SC.”
“There’s more than one bore here tonight. What’s the matter? Scared to go away to school all by your lonesome?”
Now Eddie’s voice rose. “I didn’t mean now. Someday. Would you still have your scholarship?”
Jack looked up at the bar. Packer and Trimble were watching them again. “You don’t get it, do you?” said Jack, keeping his voice down. “I’ve outgrown all that nickel-and-diming. School is a means to an end. I’m at the end already.”
9
C hampagne and cognac: a destablizing combination, new to Eddie. It made him restless, made him want to move, to disconnect from the grown-up world. He didn’t
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