Thanks for the Trouble - Tommy Wallach Page 0,9
speech therapy, and instead you rob innocent strangers in hotels. Do I have that about right?”
Innocent people don’t usually have fat stacks of hundreds in their purse.
“Then I am the exception that proves the rule. This money is everything I have left in the world.”
For real?
The girl nodded.
Then you should probably put it in a bank or something.
“But I just took it out.”
Why?
The girl stared at me for a few seconds, as if weighing her options. Then she opened up her purse and took out a cell phone. She placed it between us on the white tablecloth. “I am waiting for a phone call. And when it comes, I’m going to give this money to the first needy person I see. Then I’ll take the trolley to the Golden Gate Bridge and jump off it.”
Now I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that if someone said something like that to you, you’d just assume it was bullshit. And so would I. But you have to trust me when I tell you that the way the girl said it was really convincing. I mean, it didn’t seem like a performance, or a cry for help, or a joke. She’d stated it as a simple, undeniable fact. So even if I didn’t really believe that she would do it, I did believe that she believed she was going to do it.
The Palace Hotel’s pretty far from the Golden Gate Bridge, I wrote. Why wait here?
“Because I met someone in this very room who became very important to me. His name was Nathaniel. I was working here as a waitress, and he asked me why I wasn’t in school—” Suddenly the girl had a thought. “Wait a minute. Isn’t it a school day?”
Finish your story. You were a waitress? How old are you?
“Answer my question, Parker.”
Answer mine.
“I asked first.”
Fine! I wrote, underlining the word to emphasize my annoyance. Yes, it’s a school day.
“So why aren’t you at school?”
I skipped out. I do it all the time. Then, in response to her horrified expression: It’s Halloween!
“Halloween is not that kind of holiday, Parker Santé. And if you skip out all the time, how are you going to get into college?” There was a scolding tone to her voice I didn’t appreciate, or even understand. What did she care if I skipped out on school? I was nothing and nobody to her.
I’m not. I’ve got a criminal record and shit grades. No college would want me. Besides, I’m kinda schooled out at this point.
“But that’s ridiculous. That little fairy tale you wrote me was lovely. You should keep writing.”
I rolled my eyes with such intensity that I ended up rolling my whole head.
“Hey!” She reached out and put her hand on my arm. I could feel my hairs stand up on end, and I hoped she couldn’t tell. “I will not allow you to squander your life.”
You don’t even know me.
“So what?”
Well, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll go to college if you don’t jump off the Golden Gate Bridge.
“That’s not . . .” She took her hand away, leaving a cold patch on my arm. “It’s not the same thing.”
Why not?
“Because I’ve earned the right to be bitter.”
So have I.
We stared at each other across the table. Somehow, a conversation that I’d felt had at least been flirting with flirtation had turned into something more serious.
“Young people feel things so deeply, don’t they?” she said quietly, almost to herself. “Everything’s happening for the first time.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but the girl started speaking again before I got the chance.
“All right, Parker Santé,” she said. “I’ve come to a decision. You’ll be my needy person.”
What?
“You’ll be my needy person. The recipient of my largesse.”
It took me a second to figure out what she meant. Hold up, you mean you’re gonna give me all that money?
“Not give. God knows what stupidity you’d spend it on. We’ll spend it together.”
All of it?
“Every last cent. And in exchange, you have to promise me you will apply to and attend college. Deal?”
She put out a hand to shake.
WHAT I KNOW ABOUT LOVE
LOVE IS A LITTLE BIT like genetics—sure, there’s an element of chance in there, but when all is said and done, you’re probably going to end up taking after your parents.
My mom and dad loved each other. I know that much. But that’s probably the best you could say for them. They loved each other like the ocean loves the shoreline—eating away at it,