Sam Lipsyte - The Ask

"I was the guy experiencing a bizarre floating sensation."

"What?"

"Nothing. Purdy knows?"

"He forgave me a long time ago."

"But you guys came in together."

"Well, he'd come in from outside. I was hiding the whole time. I'd told those guys where stuff was. So, I pretended to Purdy I'd just stumbled in there, too."

"They didn't find anything."

"No. I was pretty stupid. For some reason I thought Gunderson had a lot of cash in his room. Nobody was supposed to get fucked with. But that guy Jamie was disturbed. You know he died soon after that."

"Suicide by cop," I said.

"Sure," said Michael Florida, grinned.

"What?"

"That phrase. It's funnier than 'touched out.' Jamie was a fuckup and a pervert, but I don't think he wanted the cops to kill him. That was their hilarious idea."

"I see. Speaking of the police, how did you keep out of jail when they took Jamie away? Why didn't he rat you out?"

"We were friends."

"I thought you said you didn't know him."

"Did I?"

"Yes, you did."

"Well, I don't know what to say, Detective. I guess you better cuff me."

"Were you. ."

"What?"

"Were you actually a student at the college?"

"Of course not."

"Oh."

"What, all these years you thought I was in college with you? Do you remember what I was like? How did you square that?"

"I never could."

"I mean, did you ever see me even reading a book?"

"All the time," I said. "You were always reading."

"I was, wasn't I?" said Michael Florida. "Now I remember. I mean, I remember reading. I can't remember a goddamn thing I read."

"Wish I could help. Anyway, I always remembered you tackling that guy Jamie. I thought it was brave. Now I know the truth."

"It was brave. Weird you don't see that."

Purdy emerged from a lacquered door at the edge of the atrium. He waved, walked over, kept his eyes on us while he spoke into something that resembled a long, shiny bullet.

"Then we won't do Susannah and the Elders," he said. "It's no skin off my back. It's not even a Bible story anyway. . What's that?. . It's in the Apocrypha. . What?. . Okay, you're a talented kid, so I'm still going to let you make some of these movies even though you don't know what the Apocrypha is. Your generation is pathetic. . Huh?. . It's got nothing to do with being religious. It's cultural knowledge. Which is the glue of a society. Which is precisely what has come unglued. Which is part of the reason we are all working for the Chinese to produce biblical content for cell phones. Okay, later."

Purdy twisted the upper segment of the bullet.

"Sorry, fellas."

"Nice phone," I said.

"Thanks, though I am not even sure it's a phone. I don't think they've decided. It's a prototype."

"But you can talk into it."

"Yes, that's true. So, what's up? Did you get a load of this joint?"

"Starting to."

"You try the archery yet? It's kind of random, I know, but one of the founders used to shoot competitively. It's like a Zen thing for her now."

"Cool. I'll have to go down and check it out."

"Melinda is back there having deep talks with badass midwives. This morning they finished up a fifty-seven-hour labor. Can you believe that? A breech vee-back with a flat cord, double-looped. I have no idea what that means, but I want to film one and put it on a cell phone. So people can watch it on their cell phones. Did you get a smoothie?"

"I'm fine," I said.

"You could probably use one."

"I'll manage."

"Manage what? Manage to die? Two Hind Kindnesses, please."

The bartender, a young woman with skuzzed hair and a mahogany disk distending her lower lip, nodded.

"So, thanks for waiting. I guess you had to deal with all of this stuff with Abner."

"Bernie," I said.

"Sorry, Bernie. Bold name, by the way. You just definitely want him to be an accountant?"

"We like the name. We named him after my grandfather."

"I'm all for it. There are definitely too many Elis and Olivers and Broncos around."

"Bronco?"

"We know a couple that went with Bronco."

"What are you guys thinking about for a name?" I said.

"Oh, I don't know. How about Don? That's a solid name."

Purdy pinched out a smile.

"I met with Don," I said.

"That's why we're here."

"In your email you mentioned something about further exploring the give."

"Due time."

"Okay, so."

"What did the kid say? Did he pass along a message?"

I told Purdy most everything, left out the soliloquy about cock cancer and the accordion bus. I didn't mention Sasha's offer of a fondle, either. I had never considered it genuine. I think she was just afraid of silence. I described the apartment, Don's legs, his humps, his girls.

"I almost want to cry," said Purdy. "Poor kid. I can't believe what we do to them. Fucking hell."

"Well, maybe someday we can finally-"

"Oh, screw that," said Purdy. "It will always be this way. We do war. That's what we do. We can't be babies about it. I'm a liberal hawk."

"Swoop!" Michael Florida giggled, but I took it for synaptic misfire. He turned back to the girl behind the bar.

"But it's just not right how we treat our guys," said Purdy. "My guy. What we need is a draft, that's all. Why does Don have to do all the fighting? Why not the sons of privilege?"

"I don't know, Purdy."

"What else did he say?"

"He's really angry. I guess that's my point. He's really angry with you. And with the world. I think it gets mixed up for him."

"Did I ask for a diagnosis? Are you licensed?"

"You said you wanted my take."

"You're right. I'm sorry. I did."

"He wants more money."

"How much?"

"He didn't specify. He said the envelopes need to be thicker."

"Thicker."

"And he said he'd like you to take him to the zoo. But I think he was kidding."

"No shit."

"Look, I'm sorry if-"

"No, no. It's me. I'm still raw with this stuff. You can imagine how touchy it is."

"Touched out," muttered Michael Florida.

"There's something you need to know," said Purdy. "He called Melinda."

"He did? When?"

"Yesterday. Hung up. Mel just thought it was a wrong number. But I asked to see her phone and I saw his name in the display. I can't figure him out."

"Maybe you should just tell Melinda. I mean-"

"Milo, you have no idea what you're talking about. Just leave off. That part is not your concern."

His voice had a new cold quaver.

"Understood."

"What is it, Milo?"

"Maybe we should talk in private?"

"This is private."

"Okay. It's just about why Don is so pissed."

"I was a shitty father, Milo. Completely absent. It's not complicated."

"He said something about his mother. About you not paying bills. And something about a motel."

Purdy regarded me oddly. I could not tell if he wanted me to continue. Maybe he was waiting to see what I would say next, and based on that certain irrevocable actions would be taken. It was like those Choose Your Own Adventure books, without so much of the choosing part.

I met his eyes, smiled.

"This is also in that category of stuff that is not my concern," I said. "My bad."

Purdy put a hand on my shoulder.

"You're doing a great job, Milo. I really appreciate this. And your colleagues will appreciate you when this is all over. In the meantime, take this, a sort of goodwill gesture from me. About my seriousness with regard to the give."

He slid an envelope into my shirt pocket.

"I can't take that," I said.

"You already have. You'll hear from me, or somebody, soon. I've got to get back in there with the midwives. You're a good friend, Milo. By the way, we're having a dinner thing next week. Some people from our wasted youth will be there. Should be fun. Michael?"