Part 30 (1/2)

A very sharp lady. She knew more about my book than I did.

”That's right. So I decided to try Dallas. I think it's the right place, but . . .”

”But you wouldn't want to live there?”

”Exactly.”

”I see.” She picked at her piece of deep-fried fish. Deke was looking at her with a mildly poleaxed expression. Whatever it was he wanted as he went cantering down the backstretch of life, she appeared to have it. Not so strange; everybody loves somebody sometime, as Dean Martin would so wisely point out. But not for another few years. ”And when you're not writing, what do you like to read, Mr. Amberson?”

”Oh, just about everything.”

”Have you read The Catcher in the Rye?”

Uh-oh, I thought.

”Yes, ma'am.”

She looked impatient at this. ”Oh, call me Mimi. Even the kids call me Mimi, although I insist they put a Miz with it for propriety's sake. What do you think of Mr. Salinger's cri de coeur?”

Lie, or tell the truth? But it wasn't a serious question. This woman would read a lie the way I could read . . . well . . . an IMPEACH EARL WARREN billboard.

”I think it says a lot about how lousy the fifties were, and a lot about how good the sixties can be. If the Holden Caulfields of America don't lose their outrage, that is. And their courage.”

”Um. Hum.” Picking plenty at her fish, but not eating any that I could see. No wonder she looked like you could staple a string to the back of her dress and fly her like a kite. ”Do you believe it should be in the school library?”

I sighed, thinking how much I would have enjoyed living and teaching part-time in the town of Jodie, Texas. ”Actually, ma'am-Mimi-I do. Although I believe it should be checked out only to certain students, and at the librarian's discretion.”

”The librarian's? Not the parents'?”

”No, ma'am. That's a slippery slope.”

Mimi Corcoran burst into a wide smile and turned to her beau. ”Deke, this fellow doesn't belong on the subst.i.tute list. He should be full-time.”

”Mimi-”

”I know, no vacancy in the English Department. But if he sticks around, maybe he can step in after that idiot Phil Bateman retires.”

”Meems, that is very indiscreet.”

”Yes,” she said, and actually dropped me a wink. ”Also very true. Send Deke your references from Florida, Mr. Amberson. They should do nicely. Better yet, bring them in yourself, next week. The school year has started. No sense in losing time.”

”Call me George,” I said.

”Yes, indeed,” she said. She pushed her plate away. ”Deke, this is terrible. Why do we eat here?”

”Because I like the burgers and you like Al's strawberry shortcake.”

”Oh, yes,” she said. ”The strawberry shortcake. Bring it on. Mr. Amberson, can you stay for the football game?”

”Not tonight,” I said. ”I've got to get back to Dallas. Maybe next week's game. If you think you can use me.”

”If Mimi likes you, I like you,” Deke Simmons said. ”I can't guarantee you a day every week, but some weeks there'll be two or even three. It will all average out.”

”I'm sure it will.”

”The subst.i.tute salary isn't much, I'm afraid-”

”I know that, sir. I'm just looking for a way to supplement my income.”

”That Catcher book will never be in our library,” Deke said with a regretful side-glance at his purse-lipped paramour. ”Schoolboard won't have it. Mimi knows that.” Another big bite of his p.r.o.ngburger.

”Times change,” Mimi Corcoran said, pointing first to the napkin dispenser and then to the side of his mouth. ”Deke. Sauce.”

17.

The following week I made a mistake. I should have known better; making another major wager should have been the last thing on my mind after all that had happened to me. You'll say I should have been more on my guard.

I did understand the risk, but I was worried about money. I had come to Texas with something less than sixteen thousand dollars. Some was the remainder of Al's stake-money, but most of it was the result of two very large bets, one placed in Derry and one in Tampa. But staying at the Adolphus for seven weeks or so had eaten up over a thousand; getting settled in a new town would easily cost another four or five hundred. Food, rent, and utilities aside, I was going to need a lot more clothes-and better ones-if I was going to look respectable in a cla.s.sroom. I'd be based in Jodie for two and a half years before I could conclude my business with Lee Harvey Oswald. Fourteen thousand dollars or so wasn't going to cut it. The subst.i.tute teaching salary? Fifteen dollars and fifty cents a day. Yeehaw.

Okay, maybe I could have sc.r.a.ped through on fourteen grand, plus thirty and sometimes even fifty bucks a week as a sub. But I'd have to stay healthy and not have any accidents, and I couldn't bank on that. Because the past is sly as well as obdurate. It fights back. And yes, maybe there was an element of greed involved, too. If so, it was based less on the love of money than on the intoxicating knowledge that I could beat the usually unbeatable house whenever I wanted to.

I think now: If Al had researched the stock market as thoroughly as who won all those baseball games, football games, and horse races . . .

But he didn't.

I think now: If Freddy Quinlan hadn't mentioned that the World Series was shaping up to be a doozy . . .

But he did.