Revenge of the Spellmans (33 page)

M
y dad studied his menu, debating whether to get a salad or a soup and a salad. I told him that while I found his dilemma compelling, I thought he should make his decision on his own. Mostly I was tired of hearing, “I just don’t know what I’m in the mood for.”

His mood and lunch decided, Dad put down his menu and said, “Mom and I agree to your terms.”

In case you have short-term memory problems or are an incredibly slow reader, Dad was referring to the provisions of my new work contract.

“I like how you think,” Dad said, tapping his head for effect.

“Thank you,” I replied. Dad was referring to a particular stipulation in my contract, which I’ll explain in just a moment.

“Did you tell Rae?” I asked gleefully.

Dad smiled, enjoying himself almost as much as I was. “Not yet. We’re waiting for the perfect moment. Who knows when that will be?”

The terms of my employment negotiation were, in fact, fairly reasonable. I wanted a raise and a retirement plan and a clearly mapped-out shift in ownership between me and my parents over the next ten years. But my coup de grâce was an explicit understanding that no matter what ultimate percentage of ownership my sister shared in the business, I would always
be the acting principal. Essentially, I would be Rae’s boss for all of eternity, unless she decided to find another line of work.

There was one not-so-small matter that I had to mention.

“Dad, what are we going to do about Harkey?”

“We’ll get him,” Dad replied.

“When?” I asked.

“Be patient, Grasshopper. We’ll get him when the time is right.”

Like some cosmic interruption, my cell phone rang. It was Mom.

“Isabel, you need to pick up Rae from the hospital,” she said.

“What’s wrong with her?” I asked.

“She’s fine,” my mother said, speaking slowly for emphasis.

“Then what’s she doing at the hospital?”

“Trying to get them to run as many expensive tests as they can on her brain.”

“I see,” I replied.

“Our insurance will not cover recreational MRIs. Got it?” Mom said.

“Which hospital?” I asked.

“San Francisco General.”

“It might be better if you went,” I suggested.

“I’m at the hair salon,” Mom replied. “If they rinse out the dye now, I’ll have to resort to a wig. Deal with this, Isabel.”

Sigh.
“Okay,” I said.

“Oh, and Dad doesn’t know about my…intervention,” Mom said right before hanging up. “Let’s keep it that way, and don’t forget: Record everything.”

Twenty minutes later, my dad, Rae, and I clustered in a tiny, curtained-off section of the emergency room, discussing Rae’s “condition” with the delightful Dr. Gupta.

[Partial transcript reads as follows:]

DR. GUPTA:
Are you having headaches?

RAE:
My head feels weird. Like there’s something in it.

ISABEL:
Marbles?

ALBERT:
Quiet, Isabel.

ISABEL:
She’s fine.

RAE:
My short-term memory is all but gone.

DR. GUPTA:
Since when?

ISABEL:
Since just a minute ago.

ALBERT:
Let the doctor work, Isabel.

RAE:
I’m going to need a CAT scan, an MRI, and some snacks.

DR. GUPTA:
I think we’ll start with some blood work.

RAE:
That won’t be necessary.

ISABEL:
Dad, I think I’m in love with Dr. Gupta.

ALBERT:
Shhh, you’re embarrassing me.

ISABEL:
I’m
embarrassing you?

RAE:
I’ll meet you halfway, Dr. Gupta. We’ll start with a CAT scan and go from there.

ISABEL:
Can I speak to you in the waiting room, Dad?

[I pulled my dad by the wrist out of Rae’s earshot.]

ISABEL:
Dad, she’s fine. She’s faking it to rack up a medical bill.

ALBERT:
Why would she do that?

ISABEL:
Revenge. Just tell the doctor we’ll bring Rae back if the symptoms persist.

On the car ride home, my sister cradled her head in her hands and said, “I’m almost one hundred percent positive I have a tumor.”

“Shut up,” I said.

[Partial transcript reads as follows:]

DR. RUSH:
Who would like to begin?

RAE:
I would.

ISABEL:
No, don’t start with her.

RAE:
Why not? I have some things to say.

OLIVIA:
We all have things to say, Rae.

ALBERT:
I know I do.

DAVID:
Why am I here?

DR. RUSH:
You’re part of the family.

ISABEL:
He thinks he doesn’t have any problems.

DAVID:
I
never
said that.

ISABEL:
Correction, you think you have fewer problems than the rest of us.

DAVID:
[sigh] I sort of do.

RAE:
I’d like to talk about my brain problems.

ISABEL:
You don’t have any brain problems.

RAE:
You’re a doctor, right?

DR. RUSH:
I’m a psychologist, not a physician.

RAE:
If I suddenly lost some mental acuity, wouldn’t you send me to the doctor?

DR. RUSH:
Yes, but you—

OLIVIA:
I confess, okay?!

RAE:
Confess to what?

OLIVIA:
I had your grades altered so that you’d try harder in school.

RAE:
Duh. I know that.

OLIVIA:
Who was the rat?

RAE:
Mr. Peabody. I hid his lunch and he squealed like a pig.

OLIVIA:
I should have known. He looks weak.

ALBERT:
What exactly did you do, Olivia?

OLIVIA:
She was playing us because she doesn’t want to go to college. I’ve got news for you, Rae. You’re going.

RAE:
You can’t make me do anything.

DAVID:
Since people are confessing things, I’d like to make an announcement.

DR. RUSH:
Go ahead, David.

DAVID:
I quit my job.

OLIVIA:
You didn’t.

DAVID:
I did.

RAE:
Since David doesn’t have to go to work, why should I go to college?

ALBERT:
Rae, be quiet. There’s no parallel there.

OLIVIA:
David, what are you going to do?

DAVID:
I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.

ALBERT:
You’ll be fine, I’m sure. You always land on your feet.

ISABEL:
Oh my god, you would never have that much faith in me.

ALBERT:
Isabel, give it a rest.

DAVID:
Since we’re on the topic of Isabel, don’t you have a confession to make?

ISABEL:
What?

DAVID:
Where you’ve been living.

ISABEL:
Dad already knows.

DAVID:
[to Dad]
You didn’t tell me?

ALBERT:
You have way too much space for one person.

OLIVIA:
David, we all knew.

DAVID:
You people are not normal.

ISABEL:
“You people”?

DR. RUSH:
I’m not a fan of that word, “normal.”

RAE:
Me, neither.

ISABEL:
Quiet, car thief. No one asked you.

ALBERT:
I don’t see how we can accomplish anything in an hour.

DR. RUSH:
Yes, this might take more than one session.

OLIVIA:
I already need a disappearance.

ALBERT:
Me, too.

DR. RUSH:
Excuse me?

D
r. Rush was right. The Spellmans needed more than an hour to untangle the web of deceit that we’d been weaving over the last decade. Some truths were uncovered that are not surprising but worth mentioning nonetheless: During the time after my sister’s dual PSAT scandals, my mom agreed to trim Rae’s punishment if she helped play matchmaker to David and Maggie. However, I can hardly blame my mother, considering my own role in uniting the couple. Since my first and last game of pool with the pastry-pocketing attorney, she and my brother have gone on six dates and show no signs of letting up. However, David is mute on the subject, so all of our information is secondhand.

I moved back into Bernie’s place the following weekend, and I’m happy to report that I no longer take the bus for rest. Connor did the bulk of the move for me. That’s when he met my mother. She refers to him as the Irish thug and has looked into his green card status. (Mom has always had an irrational hatred of bartenders and dentists and bankers, since we’re on the subject.) The next week she withheld my paycheck until I signed a document (drafted by David) in which I promised not to marry Connor. Ever. I signed the document, took the check, and had David draft another document forbidding all Spellmans to practice any form of blackmail. David
tried to explain to me that a contract in which you promise not to break the law is ultimately redundant, but I didn’t care.

My sister finally managed to track down the file containing my newly minted employment contract. I can’t prove it, but I’m pretty sure, post-discovery, she keyed my car and then stuck a piece of chewed-up gum in the ignition. After that, she showed up at Henry’s house, looking for sympathy. Henry called me for a Rae extraction, but I let the message go to voice mail and never returned the call.

Ernie phoned me after the dust had settled. Linda told him everything.

“I sure didn’t see that coming,” Ernie said.

“It was more complicated than we thought,” I replied.

“And
you
figured it out,” Ernie said, sounding unduly impressed.

“I guess so.”

“You’re a natural-born detective, Izzy.”

“Why, thank you.”

And that was the last I ever heard from Ernie. I’m going to imagine that he and Linda lived happily ever after.

Morty sends me postcards from Florida. He’s found a deli by his house. The pastrami is out of this world. He played shuffleboard once and he’s pretty good, so he might play again. He told me he looks terrible in shorts, but he wears them anyway. Sometimes he takes a dip in the pool.

My father and I continue to have lunch. Dad asks the hard questions: “What do you want out of life?” I ask the soft ones: “Were your eyebrows always like that?”

Some things change and others remain exactly the same.

Dossiers

Albert Spellman

Age: 64

Occupation: Private investigator

Physical characteristics: Six foot three, large (used to be larger, but doctor put him on a diet), oafish, mismatched features, thinning brown/gray hair, gives off the general air of a slob, but the kind that showers regularly.

History: One-time SFPD forced into early retirement by a back injury. Went to work for another retired cop turned private investigator, Jimmy O’Malley. Met his future wife, Olivia Montgomery, while on the job. Bought the PI business from O’Malley and has kept it in the family for the last thirty-five years.

Bad habits: Has lengthy conversations with the television; lunch.

Olivia Spellman

Age: 56

Occupation: Private investigator

Physical characteristics: Extremely petite, appears young for her age,
quite attractive, shoulder-length auburn hair (from a bottle), well groomed.

History: Met her husband while performing an amateur surveillance on her future brother-in-law (who ended up not being her future brother-in-law). Started Spellman Investigations with her husband. Excels at pretext calls and other friendly forms of deceit.

Bad habits: Willing to break laws to meddle in children’s lives; likes to record other people’s conversations.

Rae Spellman

Age: 16
¹
/2

Occupation: Junior in high school/assistant private investigator

Physical characteristics: Petite like her mother, appears a few years younger than her age; long, unkempt sandy blond hair, freckles, tends to wear sneakers so she can always make a run for it.

History: Blackmail, coercion, junk food obsession, bribery.

Bad habits: Too many to list.

David Spellman

Age: 34

Occupation: Lawyer

Physical characteristics: Tall, dark, and handsome.

History: Honors student, class valedictorian, Berkeley undergrad, Stanford Law. You know the sort.

Bad habits: Makes his bed every morning, excessively fashionable, wears pricey cologne, drinks moderately, reads a lot, keeps up on current events, exercises.

Henry Stone

Age: 45

Occupation: San Francisco Police Inspector

History: Was the detective on the Rae Spellman missing-person case three
years ago. Before that, I guess he went to the police academy, passed some test, married some annoying woman, and did a lot of tidying up.

Bad habits: Doesn’t eat candy; keeps a clean home.

Mort Schilling

Age: 84

Occupation: Semiretired defense attorney

Physical characteristics: Short with scrawny legs and small gut, enormous Coke-bottle glasses, not much hair.

History: Worked as a defense attorney for forty years. Married to Ruth for almost sixty years.

Bad habits: Sucks his teeth; talks too loud; stubborn.

Bernie Peterson

Age: Old

Occupation: Drinking, gambling, smoking cigars, annoying sublet tenants

Physical characteristics: A giant mass of a human (sorry, I try not to look too closely).

History: Was a cop in San Francisco, retired, married an ex-showgirl, moved to Las Vegas, moved back to San Francisco when she cheated on him, reconciled with her, moved back to Las Vegas.

Bad habits: Imagine every bad habit you’ve ever recognized. Bernie probably has them all.

And, for the hell of it, I’ll do me:

Isabel Spellman

Age: 31

Occupation: Private investigator/sometime bartender

Physical characteristics: Tall; not skinny, not fat; long brown hair; nose; lips; eyes; ears. All the usual features. Fingers, legs, that sort of thing. I look okay, let’s leave it at that.

History: Recovering delinquent; been working for Spellman Investigations since the age of twelve.

Bad habits: None that I can recall.

Surefire Ways to Kill Time in Therapy

• Start with small talk. Mention the weather or traffic, or comment on the office décor.
  
• Think long and hard before you answer any questions. Make sure you look pensive during the silence.
  
• Ask therapist personal questions.
  
• “I see you’re reading [insert name of random book on bookshelf]. How is it? Is it good?”
  
• Arrange for someone else to knock on the door and then make a run for it. (Never tried it myself, but I’m sure it would work.)
  

Transcript of Petra’s Visit to Harkey’s Office

PETRA:
Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.

HARKEY:
It’s part of the job.

PETRA:
I assume you’ve had your office debugged.

HARKEY:
Of course.

PETRA:
Today?

HARKEY:
I personally debug my office every morning.
1

PETRA:
You can never be too careful.

HARKEY:
I agree.

PETRA:
I like to debug twice a day, but I understand that you have a busy schedule.

HARKEY:
What can I do for you, Ms. Shvelde—

PETRA:
Call me Agatha.

HARKEY:
Agatha?

PETRA:
Yes.

HARKEY:
You don’t look like an Agatha.

PETRA:
That’s because I’m not one. I just want to be called that to throw them off the scent.

HARKEY:
I see. What exactly can I do for you, um, Agatha?

PETRA:
I’d like you to find my husband.

HARKEY:
When did you see him last?

PETRA:
About a year ago.

HARKEY:
Have you contacted the police?

PETRA:
They can’t help me.

HARKEY:
Do you suspect foul play?

PETRA:
Oh yes.

HARKEY:
What do you think happened to your husband?

PETRA:
He was taken by
them
.

HARKEY:
Who?

PETRA:
You know.

HARKEY:
I’m afraid I don’t.

PETRA:
[mumbling] The aliens.

HARKEY:
What kind of aliens?

PETRA:
I’m afraid I don’t have enough knowledge about extraterrestrial life forms to narrow them down to a particular species or culture. Frankly, I don’t know how they think of themselves. I know you debugged the office, but in case they’re listening, I don’t want to offend any of them by using a derogatory term.

[Long, long pause.]

HARKEY:
So, you’re talking about aliens from outer space, right?

PETRA:
What other kind of alien is there?

HARKEY:
Illegal aliens.

PETRA:
Why would someone from another country want my husband? That doesn’t make any sense. He doesn’t have any special skills.

HARKEY:
So you believe your husband was abducted by aliens.

PETRA:
You’re kind of slow for a PI. Are you sure you found your calling?

HARKEY:
I’ve handled my share of alien abductions, but I have to be honest, it’s an expensive operation. It requires special equipment and I can only assign this work to my seasoned investigators.

PETRA:
How much money are we talking about?

HARKEY:
Around five hundred dollars a day.

PETRA:
Would you take fifty?

HARKEY:
Fifty dollars?

PETRA:
Yes.

HARKEY:
A day or an hour?

PETRA:
It’s just a little alien abduction case.

HARKEY:
I’m afraid I can’t help you.

PETRA:
I’m so sorry to hear that. Do you validate?

Theories on Why David Got Fired (Hypothetically Speaking)

• Interoffice romance
  
• Money laundering
  
• Abusing Free-Bagel Friday
  
• Not showing up at all
  
• Too much swooning by the support staff
  

A Brief Explanation of the Spellmans’ Misuse of the Word “Disappearance”

A few years ago, Rae vanished herself in a misguided attempt to reunite the family. She was fourteen at the time and her absence seemed unlikely to have anything but a tragic outcome. Needless to say, it took the family some time to recover from the incident. Rae, in an attempt to rewrite history, would refer to that time as her “vacation.” My parents, in retaliation, swapped the word “disappearance” for “vacation” so that Rae wouldn’t forget.

Regrettable Meals à la Rae

• Chef Boyardee on Toast (canned ravioli on white bread)
  
• Tater Tots Casserole (tater tots, Velveeta, and hamburger meat)
  
• Peanut Butter/Pop Tart Sandwich (exactly what it sounds like)
  
• Chili in the Bag
  2
  (canned chili poured into a Fritos bag)
  
• Marshmallow Surprise (marshmallow fluff and Nutella on Wonder Bread)
  
• “Fruit” Salad (fruit cocktail and vanilla pudding served in an ice cream cone)
  

Magic Punch Recipe

• 1 part vodka
  
• 2 parts limeade
  
• 1 part sparkling water
  
• 4 packets LifeSavers
  3