The Pariot GAme (10 page)

“Seats,” Greenan said.

“I mean it,” Lobianco said. “Them heart attacks they always make you get inna House when the Speaker hasn’t got the votes and they need adjournment quick, a recess inna middle the night? People just about bust their guts every time Ways and Means tells you, keel over, and you do it. You got the best act this side Houdini, and he really is dead. I think you must’ve set the record, heart attacks in the Great and General Court, and you didn’t once break your teeth or even sprain an ankle or anything. This is a great talent, Ticker. You brought much joy into the lives of many people that would’ve otherwise’ve spent their entire lives on Beacon Hill without
one single goddamned belly laugh, and thanks to you, they had thousands of them. I’m telling you, Ticker, you get to those pearly gates up in the sky and Saint Peter’s gonna let you right in. ‘Swing ’em open for Greenan,’ he’ll say the guy that runs the motor, ‘if it wasn’t for him it would’ve been like being in a coma in the Massachusetts Legislature, but this guy could always take a header when it really counted.’ You make Buster Keaton there look like a fuckin’ amateur, and you done a lot more good, the human race in general, and I don’t care how many people saw his movies, I will back you any day. Except I don’t think you should start wearing the dresses, there. You don’t need that.”

“Seats,” Greenan said. The waiter brought the drinks. “I got to talk to you.”

“Just a minute, Ticker,” Lobianco said as the waiter set the drinks down, “you’re forgetting all the things you should’ve learned in all these years. You never talk about anything that you’ve got to talk to anybody about until there is nobody else around that can hear it. You know better than this. This is a nice fellow here, but he is not part of this here discussion and there is no need burdening him with such matters.” The waiter grinned and left. “Now,” Seats said, “you may say what is on your mind besides flimsy things for sexy ladies, Ticker, but you have to remember to keep your voice down.”

“There’s a hearing on today,” Greenan said.

“No shit, Ticker,” Seats said. “Even I knew that, the notorious do-nothing and overpaid public servant that I am. You’ve been reading the papers again, haven’t you, Ticker? Or having somebody read them to you. Which is it? Yeah, there’s a hearing on today. You wanna come and tell the people what it is that’s being heard? I can save you the trouble. It’s the usual shit. We got two judges up for confirmation. There is one that is black and is stupid and is honest and a woman, and I will give you three guesses about who wants to take the oath to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing
but the truth on that one. After which, they will inform the thoughtful people in the room that this is a black woman who got through law school with a fuckin’ tour guide and a goddamned roadmap and didn’t swipe anything once the bar examiners give her the license to steal anything that nobody else happened to be using at the time. This is jerk-off city because everybody in the world knows she is gonna get the fuckin’ job right this very minute, and they’ve known it since the last election because she happens to be one of the first black women that came out and said this guy was gonna be one hell of a governor. Which proves she is a liar but nobody’s perfect. I know a lot of judges that I have met personally who do not always tell the truth when it is their jobs that are involved. Small potatoes.

“Then,” Seats said, “we have got the guy that saw a law book once but he isn’t really sure what it looked like and he cannot describe it. It is his bad luck to be a white man getting a judgeship that a lot of other people would like to have. Some of them are women and some of them are blacks and some of them don’t even happen to want the fuckin’ job, but they are sure they don’t want him to have it and they are therefore going to make one hell of a ruckus which will go on until the TV crews have to pack up and go home. That should be a pretty good show, actually. It won’t make a fuckin’ bit of difference to anything except the news and the people who like to scream and yell a lot, but it’s something that you got to get through in this line of work and we sort of look at it as the temporal punishment due to sin. I figure the whole parade’ll be over by four, which is good for me because I got an appointment tonight someplace else.”

“There is something else on the agenda,” Greenan said.

The waiter came back. “Are you gentlemen ready to order? he said.

“I haven’t looked at the menu yet,” Greenan said, opening it quickly.

“I have,” Lobianco said. “While he’s doing his studying, lemme have a dozen oysters and a stein of Heineken, please.”

Greenan looked alarmed.

“Very good, sir,” the waiter said.

“Then,” Lobianco said, “the crabmeat cocktail. Cocktail sauce. A lot of lemon wedges. No mayonnaise.”

“Very good, sir,” the waiter said.

“
Hey
,” Greenan said.

“Some white wine with the crabmeat,” Lobianco said, “the Muscadet, I think.”

“Yes, sir,” the waiter said.

“Seats,” Greenan said.

“Now,” Lobianco said, “for the main course, the Dover sole with the lobster sauce.” He flapped the menu shut.

“Thank you, sir,” the waiter said. “That will be a full bottle of the Muscadet?”

“Of course,” Lobianco said. “And bring my companion a cheese sandwich and some digitalis.”

“This isn’t funny, Seats,” Greenan said.

“I didn’t say it was funny,” Lobianco said. “The last time I took you to lunch, at Anthony’s, you had shrimp Rockefeller, clam chowder, roast prime rib of beef, half a bottle of white wine and half a bottle of red wine, and strawberries Romanoff for the finish. You do it to me, I do it to you. You’ve been in politics long enough to know that.”

“I’ll have the fish chowder,” Greenan said to the waiter.

“Also,” Lobianco said to the waiter, “he will have the prime rib, cooked until it looks like anthracite, and a baked potato with sour cream and chives and all the butter you can carry, and a half-bottle of the best Cabernet Sauvignon you’ve got, and take no back talk from him. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” the waiter said.

“And you listen to me,” Seats said to Greenan. He pointed his left index finger at him. “I know you. I’ve known you a long time. You’ve got a short memory and it doesn’t help you
none. You call me about seeing me, you got something on your mind. But it’s temporary, Ticker, its temporary. I helped you before, and I did what you wanted, and it was temporary. Many times. I did it many times when you asked me, and many times you forgot that I did it. All of the times. Now we are going to play with a little harder ball. This time you are going to remember. And this time you are going to do the right thing.”

Lobianco sat back in his chair. “Now, Ticker,” he said, “we are going to have a little chat. What exactly is it that you want? Because you want something, for sure. You don’t care about black ladies becoming judges, unless those undies that you brought in here with you are for some chocolate dumpling that I never heard about. Which I would’ve, if there was one. The only judges that interest you are the ones that can get your stupid friends jobs being court clerks. You don’t care about the guy that is heading for the Supreme Judicial, because you never knew a lawyer that’s as smart as he is, dumb as he may be. So, what is it? There’s nothing else on the list today that deserves this kind of lunch. Just a lot of pardon applications and other chickenshit that’s going to get pushed under the rug with a broom by the first guy that comes into the room.”

“The Magro thing,” Greenan said.

“I never heard the son of a bitch,” Lobianco said. “All I knows he’s in the can and he wants to get out. Lots of guys inna can feel the same way. The fuck’re you interested in that one for?”

“I want him out,” Greenan said, looking down.

“What put him in?” Lobianco said. “Those things’re pretty routine, it wasn’t too serious.”

“Well,” Greenan said, “it was murder.”

“Ohh,” Lobianco said, “murder. That does make it a little more difficult. Care to give me some details?”

T
HE WAITER
brought the oysters and the beer to the table and set them in front of Lobianco. He returned to the serving tray and brought a bowl of fish chowder which he set before Greenan. He said the chowder dish was very hot, and he left the table. Seats scooped an oyster out of its shell, dipped it in horseradish, dipped it in cocktail sauce, chewed noisily and said: “Ahh. I tell you, Ticker, you should get yourself an order of these oysters. These’re really good. Nice and crisp, you know? Delicious.” He took a gulp of beer. “Howsa chowder? Looks good, all that butter on the top and everything. I had it here a couple times. Very tasty.”

“Seats,” Greenan said, “look, now, all right?”

“Jesus Christ, Ticker,” Seats said, “eat, eat. You don’t wanna let it get all cold there, you know. I realize chowder’s even better warmed up the day after you cook it. But you’re not gonna be here tomorrow, I miss my guess. They are not gonna save it for the next two years, you know, you got another favor that you want from me and I haul you in here again, carrying a bag, looks like you brought your own lunch and the only thing you wanna order’s some iced tea, to go with your peanut butter crackers.”

“Seats,” Greenan said, “this is serious, all right?”

“Oh,” Seats said, “I’m sure it is, Ticker.” He speared two
oysters on his fork, dipped them both, and put them in his mouth. “Needs some lemon,” he said reflectively. He stabbed the lemon wedge with the fork and squeezed it over the remaining oysters. “Always remember this, Ticker, when you’re dining in some classy joint, right? You got to puncture the lemon before you squeeze it. Otherwise you’re liable, spray juice and pulp all over everybody. You were saying something?” He resumed chewing.

“I said, this’s
serious
,” Greenan said, desperately. The chowder steamed in front of him.

“I’m sure it is, is what I said,” Seats said. “If you didn’t tell me it was serious, I would know it was serious, because you are paying a lot of money for that chowder and you are letting it get old in front of you. Pretty soon them flounders in there’re gonna be on Social Security and shivering in their unheated apartments.” He speared two more oysters.

“Seats,” Greenan said, still not eating, “will ya lemme talk?”

“Sure,” Seats said, chewing. “You can talk all you want. That’s why you’re taking me to lunch. Only thing is, two guys go to lunch, it’s impolite if one of them doesn’t eat, you know? Makes the other guy feel embarrassed.” He belched softly and took another drink of beer. “My God,” he said, shaking his head, “there is nothing quite like a good glass of cold beer with some oysters on a warm summer day. Didn’t used to be you could get oysters inna summer. You remember that, Ticker? Only time you could get oysters was in the winter, months with an
r
in them. Supposed to give you food poisoning, you ate them inna summer.

“You know why that is? You think the oysters get poisonous all of a sudden, end of April, they’re not good to eat again until Labor Day? Nah. Refrigeration. They didn’t have no refrigeration when they had that rule. Oysters spoiled in warm weather. That’s all. Nothing else to it. My father, my
father loved oysters. Right after Labor Day he would start eating them, but
bang
, right on the dot of May first, he would stop again. But that was the reason. No reason for it at all, now. Get oysters any time you want, all year round.” He took another and dipped it. “Expensive though, I will say that.”

“Seats,” Greenan said, taking a spoonful of chowder, “will ya lemme talk about Magro, the Magro case? All right?”

“Ticker,” Seats said, leaning forward, “sure I will let you talk about the Magro case. But like I said, I know you. And I know why you’re in such a hurry to talk about the Magro case. You’re gonna eat your chowder, and tell me what it is you wanna tell me, and then all of a sudden you’re gonna remember an important appointment and you’re gonna get up before the rest of the lunch comes and run out of here with your undies in your pocket, and skip on the check. I’ve seen you do it before, and you got to pardon me, but this was all your idea and you are not gonna pull the scoot on me. Those other guys that you stuck with the bill, they hadn’t been around as long as I have. You tell me your story and you eat your fuckin’ soup, and you eat your baked potato and you drink your fuckin’ wine. And I will have my crab cocktail and my Dover sole and my wine, and if
I
feel like it I will have some coffee, and then my faithful Indian companion here will bring us the check and you will still be here, to pay it. I’ve seen lots of horses, over Suffolk Downs, couldn’t get out of the gate as fast as you can get away from a table when you think the check’s coming and you might have to pay it. Like you agreed. I bet on most of them horses, I am sorry to say. If my horses were as quick as you getting away from a check, I would be a millionaire.”

Seats took another oyster. “So,” he said, “here is your choice. As you know, I can outtalk you. I can outtalk any guy in Boston that’s got an all-night call-in show, along with all the nutcakes that call him up. You wanna get cute with me, you won’t get to the Magro case until the check comes, and then I
will bounce outta here like I was Tinker Bell and you never will get to tell me what is on your mind. But you will still pay for lunch. Which is what I have got in mind. Eat your soup.”