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By Root 483 0

unquote, the money. Well, it wasn’t stealing, it was taking what I deserved. No. Less than I deserved. Look here, if not for me who ever would have heard of Clara Charnofsky? Did you publish her poems at your own expense? Did you shlep that privately printed book from publisher to publisher, in those days I was like dirt to them, and wasn’t I the one who wrote all those begging letters to book reviewers? What would an agent have charged? Ten per-cent I think it is, or maybe fifteen. The foundation was my idea, nobody else’s. Millions sitting there, earning interest day in and day out, all because of me. And every year we fork out hundreds of thousands of dollars in grants, fellowships, you name it, and do you think I ever once had a thank-you note? Forget it. So I added up all the hours I had put in over the years, and I reckoned I was worth fifty dollars an hour, which is less than a fucking plumber charges these days, never mind a lawyer, and it came to seven hundred and fifty thousand. They can call it stealing, or embezzlement, or fraud, I don’t give a shit, I was entitled. Hey, you want a laugh? I’ll give you one. Pour me another drink.”

“I think you’ve had quite enough, Norman.”

“He thinks I’ve had quite enough. Coming from you, that’s a hot one,” he said, holding out his glass.

I poured him a short one and added lots of water.

“I went to Lutèce for lunch. They fit me in, the table next to where the waiters were coming and going, and I didn’t know what to order or which wine with what. You like caviar? I’ve been reading about it for years in novels, but it’s so salty. I don’t understand the fuss.

Can you tell I’m wearing a toupee, if you didn’t know me from before, I mean?”

“Would you like to stay the night, Norman?”

“I’ve already booked into a motel.”

“That was hardly necessary.”

“One, I couldn’t be sure you’d be here, or that you’d be welcoming. Two, I’m travelling with a young woman, you wouldn’t care for her, but it’s my business, if you don’t mind?” Then his tears yielded to giggles. “Doreen reads Archie comics. She listens to rock music in the car and pops her bubble gum. It drives me crazy. We have to book into a motel with a TV six-thirty prompt every evening so that she can catch Jeopardy! I’m ashamed to undress in front of her, a skinny old man like me. Pardon me for asking, but do you have varicose veins yet?”

“Some.”

“Barney, Barney, I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing any more. I sit on the toilet weeping and I turn on the taps so she won’t hear me. I’m worried sick about Flora, my daughter must hate me, and one day they’ll catch up with me, and I’ll end up in prison with common criminals. So how are you these days, I haven’t even asked?”

“Have you spent all the money?”

“I think two hundred thousand dollars so far, possibly less. What does it matter?”

“Are you willing to return what’s left?”

“I took only what was rightfully mine.”

“Answer my question.”

“Answer his question. I’m not going to prison.”

“If you were willing to return what’s left, I could go to New York and talk to the board. I’ll offer to make good whatever is missing, providing they agree to drop any charges, which I’m sure they would do.”

“How could I let you do such a thing?”

“I’m rich, Norman.”

“He’s rich. Maybe I should have gone into TV, producing crap for the unwashed.”

“Norman, you’re beginning to sound like your uncle Chaim, alav ha-sholem.”

“I appreciate your offer. Honestly I do. But Flora would never have me back. How can I blame her? And I wouldn’t dare show my face to old friends again,” he said, rising abruptly from his chair. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have any nibbles here you could spare? Cashews or chocolates, or whatever? I promised to bring her something, but now everything will be closed.”

“Sorry. No. Norman, I want you to come back here for breakfast, and we can talk some more. I’m serious about making up the missing money. I could also talk to Flora.”

“Peanut butter maybe? Some sliced bread?”

“Sorry, I don’t come here that often any more. Hey, I could do with some fresh air. Why don’t