86'd: A Novel - By Dan Fante Page 0,39
framed in the doorway, a granite statue outside a public library. “Can we talk?” he asked.
“My stuff will be out of your company by this afternoon,” I said. “I reserved a U-Haul. I’m picking it up in an hour or so. And frankly, David, I’ve had my life shoved up my ass by a boss for the last time. So let’s just save anymore replay for down the road, some other time. Okay?”
He stepped closer. “You should know that I had a conversation with Frank Tropper this morning. I’ve been waiting for his return call since I had my meeting with you.”
“Swell.”
“After we spoke I decided to dig deeper just to satisfy myself. I hope you realize that I didn’t take this matter lightly.”
“But you fired me anyway.”
“I did what I thought was best under the circumstances. Getting drunk and shooting off a pistol in this building was simply the act of a madman.”
“Have a nice fucking day, Mr. Koffman.”
“There’s more to discuss.”
“I’ve just been evicted. I’m busy here.”
“Do you want to know what happened on my call with Tropper?”
I’d begun stuffing books in a new box. “Sure, David. Sure,” I said.
“First, a question: Why is it that you never mentioned he was having an affair with Portia?”
“You said you didn’t want to hear anything from me.”
“I mean at the time you fired Frank. Weeks ago. Tell me what happened there.”
“I don’t know. The guy’s a snake. Dealing drugs out of a limousine. I squashed a snake. Case closed.”
“That incident was important. Portia never mentioned her relationship with Frank. She omitted any discussion of that can of worms.”
I sat down on a box of books. “Portia’s an angry, poisonous whackjob. Take my word for it,” I said.
“Go on. What happened?”
“Now it’s important,” I said, slinging the words at him. “Now you want to know. Forget it.”
“You have my full attention. What happened?”
“Okay, sure. Fuck it,” I said. “Why not?”
“Precisely.”
“After I found out she was his part-time backup pole smoker I made her tell me what they’d been up to. I’d suspected for weeks that she’d been playing favorites and pushing all the company’s cash work his way but I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure, so I had let that part slide. After I fired the jerk and he could do no more damage, I thought it over and decided that Portia deserved another shot. My reasoning was what-the-hell, people are human. Shit happens. She made a mistake.”
Big Koffman sat down on the box of books next to me. “I thought as much,” he sighed.
“So that’s it. Anything else?” I asked.
“Well, I may live to regret this, but I’ve decided to reverse myself and give you the same chance you gave Portia. With strict conditions.”
“Jesus Christ!”
“Setting aside the insanity of your shooting spree, you’ve done a good job, basically. I don’t want to overlook that.”
“Okay, so what conditions, David?”
Buffalo Bill flipped a chunk of his gray hair back over his shoulder then folded his arms across his chest. “You are no longer a partner. You are now an employee and you will immediately return the one thousand dollar check I gave you.”
“No problem. I can do that.”
“And you are now on strict probation. If you can stay sober—completely sober—then we’ll take it from there. You will attend three AA meetings per week and get the signature of the secretary at each meeting. Then, in ninety days, after I’m satisfied that you really want to make this work, we’ll discuss reinstating our partnership.”
The worm had just turned. But, instead of me having to do more groveling and slithering and backpedaling, I now felt myself getting pissed off. “No deal,” I said. “Not that way.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I worked my ass off for this company and for that twenty-five percent. Screw that. Our partnership stays as it is or I move on.”
Big David scratched his head. “Okay, I agree,” he said. “I’ll meet you halfway. But the ninety days probation stays in effect and your attendance at AA meetings is mandatory.”
“Deal,” I said. “Fair enough.”
We both stood up. David Koffman put his arms around me and gave me his best lovey-dovey partner hug.
seventeen
Later that afternoon I got the number of AA and called the main office in L.A. and was given the address of a night meeting in Culver City.
The guy’s name was Harvey. He was all business and got right to the point and let me choose one from the long list of cities he’d read out. I didn’t want to