“No, Finn. Don’t drag anybody else into this.”
“Listen, Julian,” Finn says, not smiling anymore, enunciating each word clearly. “I said, I think that you and your friend should go to the Saint Marquis at four, all right?” Finn turns to me. “You want your money, right?”
I shake my head, no.
“You don’t?” he asks incredulously.
“Yes. I mean, yes, I … I do,” I say. “Sure.”
Finn turns to Julian and then back at me. “You feel all right?”
“Yeah,” I tell him. “Just have the shakes.”
“Wanna lude?”
“No thanks.” I look back at the fish.
Finn turns to Julian. “So, how are your parents, Julian?”
“I don’t know.” Julian’s still looking down.
“Yeah, okay … well,” Finn begins. “Okay, why don’t you two go to the hotel and then meet me at The Land’s End and then we’ll go to Eddie’s party and give you your money and your friend his money. Okay, babes? How about that? How does that sound?”
“Where do I meet you?” Julian asks.
“At The Land’s End. Upstairs,” Finn says. “What is this? Is something wrong?”
“No,” Julian says. “When?”
“Nine-thirty?”
“Fine.”
I look over at Julian and the image of sports club after school in fifth grade comes back to me.
“Are you okay, Julie?” Finn looks back at Julian.
“Yeah, I’m just nervous.” Julian’s voice trails off. He’s about to say something, mouth opens. I can hear a plane passing by, overhead. Then an ambulance.
“What is it, babe? Hey, you can tell me.” Finn seems understanding and walks over to Julian and puts his arm around him.
I think Julian’s crying.
“Will you excuse us, please?” Finn asks me politely.
I walk out of the room and close the door behind me, but I can still hear the voices.
“I think that tonight will be my last … my last night. Okay, Finn? I don’t think I can do this anymore. I’m just so sick of feeling so … sad all the time and I can’t … Can’t I do something else for you? Just till I pay you back?” Julian’s voice is all shaky and then it cracks.
“Hey, hey, hey, baby,” Finn croons. “Baby, it’s okay.”
I could leave the penthouse now. Even though Julian drove, I could leave the penthouse. I could call someone to pick me up.
“No, Finn, no, it’s not.”
“Here …”
“Ho, Finn. No way. I don’t want that. I’m through with that.”
“Of course, you are.”
There’s a really long silence and I can only hear a couple of matches being lit and this slapping sound, and after a while, Finn finally speaks up. “Now, you know that you’re my best boy and you know that I care for you. Just like my own kid. Just like my own son …” There’s a pause and then Finn says, “You look thin.”
The surfer brushes past me and enters the room and tells Finn that someone named Manuel is on the phone. The surfer leaves. Julian gets up from Finn’s desk, buttoning his sleeve, and says goodbye to Finn.
“Hey, keep up the Nautilus. Keep up the bod.” Finn winks.
“Sure.”
“See ya later tonight, right, Clay?”
I want to say no, but I have the feeling somehow that I will be seeing him later tonight and I nod and say, “Yeah” and try to sound convincing, like I mean it.
“You’re terrific, you kids. Just fab,” Finn tells us.
I follow Julian across the hallway and as I cross the living room to get to the door, I see the surfer lying in the living room on the floor, his right hand down his pants, eating a bowl of Captain Crunch. He’s alternating between reading the back of the cereal box and watching “The Twilight Zone” on the huge TV screen in the middle of the living room and Rod Serling’s staring at us and tells us that we have just entered The Twilight Zone and though I don’t want to believe it, it’s just so surreal that I know it’s true and I stare at the boy on the living room rug for one last time and then slowly turn away and follow Julian out the door and into the darkness of Finn’s hall. And in the elevator on the way down to Julian’s car, I say, “Why didn’t you tell me the money was for this?” and Julian, his eyes all glassy, sad grin on his face, says, “Who cares? Do you? Do you really care?” and I don’t say anything and realize that I really don’t care and suddenly feel foolish, stupid. I also realize that I’ll go with Julian to the Saint Marquis. That I want to see if things like this can actually happen. And as the elevator descends, passing the second floor, and the first floor, going even farther down, I realize that the money doesn’t matter. That all that does is that I want to see the worst.
