The Long Fall Read Online Free PDF Page B

pen from the inside pocket of his jacket and buzzes Harriet, his secretary, to come in and witness.
    Jimmy’s figuring he can take his copy of the agreement and show Ray Harp, use it as a combo stalling tactic and good-faith gesture, some black-and-white proof that Jimmy’s good for what he owes. Whatever else he may be, Ray Harp is also a businessman, and he’s bound to appreciate what the Dobbins property is worth.
    Richard looks over at the clock and then holds up the pen.
    Jimmy takes the pen and leans over the desk. He signs where Richard tells him, Harriett hovering over his shoulder, reminding him of a battery of elementary school teachers who were always on his case about one thing or another. Jimmy keeps expecting her to ambush him on penmanship.
    Richard separates the paperwork into two piles, and then Harriet slides Jimmy’s copy into a manila envelope and sets it on the corner of the desk and leaves without a word.
    Jimmy looks down at the pen in his hand and then at Richard, who’s moved from the desk to the window, where he’s standing with his back to him.
    Richard asks him if he’s been out to the cemetery yet. “What did you think of the stone? The angels on either end too much?”
    “Nah,” Jimmy says. “They’re fine.”
    Richard glances back over his shoulder and smiles. “There are no angels on the stone, Jimmy. It’s a simple granite marker. Name and dates, that’s all.”
    “Bingo,” Jimmy says. “You win, Richard.”
    “There are times,” Richard says, turning back to the window, “when I almost feel sorry for you, Jimmy. Fortunately, they don’t last long.”
    Jimmy looks over at the screen saver with the family photos on the computer, him missing-in-action in all of them, then down at the manila envelope in his hand.
    “What did you do, Richard?”
    Richard waits awhile before answering. “What I knew I had to. What everybody in the family has always had to do. Save you from yourself.”
    Jimmy tears into the manila envelope and starts rummaging through the paperwork, but the print keeps sliding all over the page and the pages themselves dividing and subdividing, multiplying like amoebas.
    “What did I sign, Richard?” Jimmy’s voice a combo platter of desperation, anger, and panic.
    “Listen to yourself.” Richard remains at the window. “The fact that you have to ask a question like that just proves my point.”
    “That’s what this all comes down to. Not me. You. You being right. You proving a point.”
    “What I did, I did for your own good, Jimmy.”
    “Fuck my own good. The old man left the Dobbins parcel to me. It’s mine.”
    “There’s the spirit of the law and then the letter of the law. And I believe in this case the probate judge knows his alphabet, Jimmy.”
    “I don’t care. It’s mine, Richard. You know that.”
    “Okay,” Richard says, turning and facing Jimmy. “For the sake of argument, let’s agree the land’s yours and I’m just holding it temporarily in escrow. How’s that sound? Fair enough?”
    “What’s the catch?” Jimmy says, knowing there has to be one with Richard.
    “The property reverts to you in five years,” Richard says. “I’ll even pay the taxes during the interim. All you have to do is stay out of trouble. You get a job, you keep it, and you function like a responsible adult. In five years the property’s yours, free and clear. What do you think?”
    Jimmy doesn’t say anything.
    Richard shakes his head and turns back to the window. “Five years too daunting a prospect for you, Jimmy? How about three then? Think you could handle that? One thousand ninety-five days of reasonable behavior? Or do we need to shave a few more off? You have any suggestions, a ballpark figure, say, for how long you could sustain acting your age and out of trouble?”
    “You prick,” Jimmy says quietly.
    Richard lets out a short, dry laugh. “You think I couldn’t figure out why you were in such a hurry to get those taxes cleared