The Pursuit of Other Interests: A Novel (32 page)

He was inches from Bradley and when he wagged a finger in his face in an attempt to make a final point, he accidentally brushed his nose. This apparently infuriated Bradley and he responded by hitting Charlie square in the jaw. The blow knocked the prosthesis out of his mouth and it landed silently on the carpet like a dead moth.

Charlie initially didn’t feel any pain, then all of a sudden he did. It was worse than the fall down the stairs, worse than the punch from the plumber. He yelled and closed his eyes. Then he instinctively lunged toward Bradley, grabbing hold of his throat. Bradley, in turn, grabbed Charlie’s throat.

They tumbled to the floor, two middle-aged men in sports coats choking each other. Just as Charlie was beginning to think he might have the upper hand—Bradley’s eyes were bulging—Bradley brought his head down onto Charlie’s face. Things then went black.

When Charlie regained consciousness a few seconds later, he heard Bradley gasping for air. “I couldn’t breathe. You were crushing my windpipe.” He was sitting against the wall, rubbing his throat, his face red.

Charlie sat up. The pain in his jaw was still amazingly cold and intense. He let out a low moan and searched for his prosthesis, groping the floor with his hands. When he found it, he held it up to the light to check for damage.

“What the hell is that?” Bradley asked. “Your tooth?”

Charlie ignored him and tried to put it back in his mouth. It was bent and wouldn’t fit.

A door opened down the hall and a middle-aged woman wearing a short white robe poked her head out and glowered at them.

“Get back in your room,” Bradley said.

“What is going on out here?” she asked.

“Go on! Get back in your goddamn room,” he yelled. She shut the door.

Bradley closed his eyes and massaged his throat. He looked old and shrunken, like a dying hound dog. Charlie attempted to stand, but felt the hallway spin and decided to stay on the floor.

They sat for a few minutes, until Bradley said, “I had a dream last night. I dreamt that I was back working. It was back in the old days. Ten, twenty years ago. Maggie was my secretary. Maggie. I was back at the bank. I remember typing something on a typewriter. Then I was going to a meeting and I was looking for my cell phone, and Maggie, she said, ‘We don’t have cell phones.’ I woke up with a big-ass smile on my face. Remember how it used to be, Charlie? No cell phones, no computers, no e-mail? None of that? Your secretary handing you your messages? Food on the flight out? Food you didn’t have to pay for? You did a good job and you kept your job? Jesus Christ, I don’t know what happened.”

“You got old,” Charlie said. “We both did.”

“All I wanted to do was keep my life. That’s all I wanted. I just wanted to keep my life. Nothing more. They took it away. All the time you think you have control, but you don’t have anything. You got nothing.”

Charlie crawled over to the opposite wall and sat up against it. They were both still breathing hard.

“I know you think you have it tough, but you don’t,” Bradley continued. “You have no idea. I can’t take out another mortgage on my house. I’m behind on my car lease. My wife left me last summer. You know what she said to me? You know what she said? She said, ‘I didn’t sign on for this.’ Broad is twenty years younger than me. Never should have left Maureen, my first wife. Never.”

Charlie carefully pushed himself up to a standing position. He no longer was all that interested in what Bradley had to say. He just wanted to call Donna and die peacefully with her on the other end of the line.

“I was afraid they might put us in the same hotel. I asked Preston to find out.”

“The Wizard? He was recruiting you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, why?”

Charlie actually laughed, shook his head. “Preston. Unbelievable. Jesus, everyone was in on it.”

“I should have checked out and gone home,” Bradley said. “But they were paying for another night, the room, and, hell, I didn’t want to go home. Why would I want to go home? I don’t even have cable anymore.”

“It’s not easy for me either,” Charlie said.

Bradley waved this away. “You’re going to be okay and you know it. You’re smart, creative, funny. Quick on your feet. You’ve barely been out and you’re already getting close. You’re going to be fine. People like you are always fine. I’m a big old dumb-ass. I’m fifty-eight. This is my last chance.”

Charlie didn’t say anything. He ran a finger over the front gums of his mouth.

Bradley continued, “My interview was this afternoon. It went all right. He’s an intense son of a bitch.”

Charlie now felt steady enough to walk. He started slowly down the hall, one foot after the other.

“Hey, Charlie, you all right?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure? Where are you going? Maybe we should get a drink and talk about it.”

“I’m done with drinks. I’m done with everything. I’m going home. The job is yours. I don’t want it. Good luck.”

“What?”

“I don’t want it,” Charlie said again. He kept walking. “I don’t want that anymore.”

When he got home, he had to ring the bell, because he had forgotten his key and the front door, for some reason, was locked. He had to ring it twice before a pretty teenage girl answered. When she saw him, she gasped and put her hand up to her mouth. By then Charlie was used to, if not expecting, this reaction. He had gotten so many stares and double-takes at the airport and during the flight home that they no longer had any impact. He nodded hello, smiled evilly to reveal his teeth, and said, “Trick or treat.”

“What?” The girl looked terrified.

“I’m sorry. I’m Mr. Baker.” He walked inside. “I bet you’re Jessica. I bet you’re here to see Kyle.”

“Yes.”

Charlie nodded and looked around the hallway. “Where’s my wife? Mrs. Baker.”

“She’s at the grocery store. We were going to make brownies, so she had to get some stuff.”

“Brownies? Now? What time is it?”

“About nine-thirty.”

Charlie nodded. “Where’s Kyle?”

“He’s upstairs sleeping. Were you in an accident?”

“Not really.” He walked into the kitchen and Jessica followed. There was some coffee in the pot and he swirled it and, even though it was cold, he poured himself a cup and took a sip. He wanted to go up and see Kyle, but didn’t want to wake him.

“Do you know when Mrs. Baker will be home?” he asked.

“Pretty soon, I think.” Jessica was a doll, with large blue eyes and a sweet, whispery voice. Charlie stared at her and, for the hell of it, smiled again. She backed away. “I think I’m going to go wait for Mrs. Baker outside,” she said.

“Tell you what, why don’t I go outside and wait for her and you stay inside?”

“Oh, okay,” she said. He put the coffee cup on the counter and headed toward the back door. It was then that he noticed his telescope. It was set up in the reading nook, overlooking the yard.

“What’s that doing out?” he asked Jessica.

“Kyle and I were going to look at the stars.”

He walked over, picked up the telescope, and went outside.

The air was cold, but he refused to feel it. He turned his face up to the sky and let the November wind blow full against his beaten face. His head ached some, but not nearly as badly as before. He was mostly exhausted.

He dragged a deck chair to the middle of the yard and set up the telescope. Then he sat and took in the night. The trees were barren now, their branches lonely and twisted, but the sky had a sprinkling of stars. He slid down low and studied them.

“Charlie?” Donna was standing on the deck by the back door, her arms folded in front of her. She was wearing an oversized winter coat and had it zipped all the way up.

“Are those brownies done yet?” Charlie asked. He turned around and faced her.

“They’re for tomorrow,” she said. She made her way over to Charlie, and gasped like Jessica when she got close. “Oh, my God! What happened?”

“Grab a chair,” Charlie said.

Donna listened quietly as he filled her in on his great adventure. She was especially sympathetic when he got to the part about Bradley smashing his head onto Charlie’s face.

“Head-butts are the worst,” she said. “I used to hate when my brothers did that to me.”

“That was my very first one,” he said. “You know, between falling, the plumber, and now this, I’m beginning to feel like a stuntman.”

She laughed and they listened to the wind. Donna zipped the parka all the way up to her chin and stuffed her hands into the pockets.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked.

“No. The wind is numbing my body.”

“Do you want to go to the hospital?”

“I’m fine. I took about twelve aspirin. I’ll start screaming when they wear off.”

“Maybe we should go.”

“I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“I’m tired of hospitals. I’m tired of doctors. I’m never seeing another doctor. Ever. I’m throwing my stupid humidifier out too. I want everything gone. Everything. And start calling me Charles from now on. No more Charlie, I’m Charles Baker. Or Chuck. I’m starting over. I’m Chuck. I’m Chuck Baker. That’s all I will answer to.”

“Okay. Chuck.”

He leaned forward and tried to look through the telescope, but it was out of focus and he didn’t have the knowledge or energy to adjust it. He sat back again.

“So, what’s going to happen now?” Donna asked. “With the job, I mean?”

“I don’t want that job. I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t know what I want to do. But I know I don’t want to live in airports and hotels and go to Omaha and Chile and stare at my goddamn BlackBerry all day and talk about cows and hog sex. And I don’t want to work for a big company anymore either.”

Donna sighed, relieved. She slipped her hand into his. “I think that’s a good decision.”

“We’ll see.” Charlie took a deep breath. “How’s Kyle?”

“How do you think he’s doing?”

He glanced back at the house. “Yeah, she’s pretty cute. Is she still here?”

“She just left.”

He looked back up at the sky. “Good for him. Maybe they’ll get married and support us.”

Donna leaned over and peered into the telescope. “Do you ever use this?” She sat back.

“Nope. I don’t know how. I have all these things I can’t use. I’m worthless.”

They sat there, hand in hand in the cold night, husband and wife. The stars started to slip away, obscured by clouds. There were only a handful now, straight overhead.

“Hey, did you ever get those pictures I sent you? Of us? I sent them to you in the motel in Maine. You never said anything.”

“I got them, all right,” she said. “Very effective. You should be in advertising.”

“You hiring?” He carefully touched the bump on his forehead. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he said again.

“We’ll be okay.”

“You really think so?”

“Yes.” She squeezed his hand. “Hey, come on, cheer up, you’re the famous Charlie Baker. Everyone loves you. Everyone knows you. You’re famous. You’ve won awards. You met Elton John, Madonna, Bob Dole.”

“The talking hamster.”

“The talking hamster.”

“I’ve got to figure something out soon.”

“So what’s the worst that can happen to us?” Donna asked. “We have to quit the stupid country club? We have to get a smaller TV? We’re going to starve? We’re going to be homeless? Come on. We’re going to be okay. Just relax, it’s almost Thanksgiving.”

“Thanksgiving.”

She squeezed his hand tighter and peered up at the sky. “You’re a star, Charlie,” she said. “I knew that when I first saw you onstage in
Music Man
. When you sang ‘Marian the Librarian.’ I knew I was going to meet you and marry you. I set my sights on you. You were wearing the white suit and that hat, that goofy straw hat. The way you danced and sang like that. My brothers thought you were crazy. But not me, I was sixteen years old and I knew back then that Charlie Baker was the guy for me.”

He turned to face her. Her hair was flying all over the place and he watched as she tried to catch it and bunch it up. “You saw that play? You were there?” he asked. “I thought you said you weren’t.”

“I was there,” she said. She let her hair blow free and squeezed his hand one more time. “I was always there.”

He sent out this last update on the Wednesday after Thanksgiving. He had slipped unnoticed into Rogers & Newman late in the afternoon and, finding Office A unoccupied, decided to write a final installment of his short-lived newsletter at the new desk by the window, while watching the lake fade to black. The sentiments he expressed were genuine, the result of a series of vivid epiphanies he had experienced over the long Thanksgiving weekend, a weekend he had spent convalescing with his son.

When he was finished with the installment, he had a sense of closure, if not peace. He still needed a job, but in order to find the right one, he knew he needed a fresh start.

He was about to check a new Web site for nonprofit jobs when Ned walked by. He stopped in the doorway.

“What?” He gazed at Charlie like he was Christ freshly risen.

“Hello, Ned.”

Ned inched into the office, glancing over his shoulder as he approached. “Charlie?” His look of amazement grew, his eyes wide, his eyebrows pushing up against his bangs.

“I know. I’ll move back to a cube.” Charlie started to stand.

“No, no, no, please, sit. Please. I don’t care. Sit. Absolutely.”

Charlie sat back down, then allowed Ned to stare at him some more.

“Your face.”

“I’m fine.” He didn’t elaborate and Ned surprisingly didn’t ask any follow-up questions. He was visibly nervous.

“I’m so surprised to find you here. I wasn’t expecting this.” He continued to gawk.

“Can you quit with the staring?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to.” He shut the door, stepped farther into the office, and swallowed. “We have to talk, I think.”

Charlie politely folded his hands and placed them on top of the desk. He suspected an explanation, maybe an apology of sorts, was coming.

Ned cleared his throat and began talking, his words a torrent. “I know, or I should say I fear, what you must think about me, but on my word, I didn’t know anything about Bradley and that job. I had no idea you two were going for the same position. Absolutely no idea whatsoever. He told me he was talking to some people at a local hospital. If I had known the truth, I would have persuaded Bradley to tell you. I think it would have been fair, since he apparently knew you were going for the position.”

Charlie nodded. “Continue.”

“He told me the truth on Sunday night, right before he left for New York. It put me in an awkward, very, very awkward position because of my friendship with you and my friendship with him. He swore me to secrecy. Professionally, I really couldn’t have told you anyway, I suppose. I mean, that would have been overstepping my bounds. But I would have insisted he told you.”

Charlie benevolently focused on his folded hands and remained silent. He was deriving a small amount of pleasure making Ned squirm. Finally, when Ned looked like he might fall to his knees, he said, “I absolve you.”

Ned’s face relaxed.

Charlie made the sign of the cross. “Say Three Hail Marys and buy me lunch.”

“Really?”

“It’s not your fault anyway. You’re right, you probably couldn’t tell me.”

“Well, that’s very generous of you. I haven’t felt right since you left and I was sure you weren’t going to come back. I was afraid you had enough of everything. I thought you would disappear like everyone else.”

“You underestimated me.”

“Yes, apparently I did.” He stepped closer to the desk and squinted. “Your tooth? Did you lose another one?”

Charlie smiled. “Same one. I’m getting another imposter tomorrow. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”

“I see. Well, I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you at Xanon. I really am. Though, on the other hand, I am happy for Bradley.”

“Did he get the job?”

Ned looked crestfallen. “Oh, no, you didn’t know?” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “My God, I can’t do anything right.”

“I figured he did. Good for him. Bradley’s back out there.”

“You’re keeping a very good attitude.”

“I’m on painkillers.”

“I see. Oh, are you being facetious?”

“I am.” Charlie drummed the top of the desk with his index fingers. “Anyway, it looks like I’m going to be here for a while. Do you want me to move or what? I can if you want, I don’t care.”

“No, no. Stay here. Stay here. This is your office, as far as I’m concerned, for as long as you want.”

“Really?”

“Definitely. At least for the rest of the day.”

Charlie glanced at his watch. “It’s four o’clock.”

“That’s the best I can do.”

“All right. Mine for a whole hour.” Charlie swiveled all the way around in his chair, making a complete circle. When he finished, he drummed the desk again. “This is new,” he said.

“Yes,” Ned said. He whispered loudly, “I believe something happened to the old one.”

Donna was in the kitchen watching TV when he got home. He could hear it blaring from the front foyer. He dropped his briefcase by the closet, shed his overcoat, and then stuck his head in to say hello.

“I’m here.”

“Oh, hi.” She was leaning against the counter, chewing on a fingernail, engrossed in something on the small flip-down screen. He scanned the kitchen and saw a pot of water on the stove.

“What are we having?”

“Spaghetti.” She kept her back to him.

“What are you watching?”

“Nothing. Something about dreams. Interpreting them. It’s stupid.” She remained transfixed, though, still biting her nails. “You better hurry,” she said over her shoulder. “He’s been waiting. You better go.”

“Where is he?”

“In the living room. We’re going to eat soon, though, so learn fast.”

“I’ll try.”

He found Kyle already seated at the piano, leafing through some sheet music. Matt was sprawled on the couch nearby, sleeping with one arm tossed over his face, his huge stocking feet hanging over the edge.

“What’s he doing here?”

Kyle didn’t even bother to look over at Matt. He continued to study the music. “Sleeping.”

“Are you sure he’s alive?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m positive he is.” Kyle glanced up at Charlie. He had a baseball cap on backward and was wearing Charlie’s blue and gold Wilton Lions sweatshirt. “You ready to do this?”

“Absolutely.”

Kyle scooted over, making room for his father on the bench.

“How’s the foot?” Charlie asked. “I mean ankle?”

“It’s okay. Ready?”

“Wait, let me get loose.” Charlie flexed his fingers a few times. “Okay. What do we do first?”

Kyle looked thoughtful “I don’t know. I guess we’ll start with some simple chords. You know, the basics.”

“The basics.” Charlie nodded. “Okay. Sounds like a good place to start.” Then he raised his hands and held them gingerly over the keys, ready for whatever came next.