Dog Soldiers (38 page)

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Authors: Robert Stone

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You know the customs
they have around here for deal
ing with clowns who try to take a piece of the trade?


It doesn

t concern me.


They

ll shoot you full of STP and put a blowtorch to your balls.


I

ve heard the stories,

Converse said.


See, that

s all they do is deal dope and fuck people over. They spend a lot of time thinking up new wrinkles. I can see to it they get you.

Through the bedroom window, Converse could see Mr. Roche hosing down the lawn behind his bungalow. Mr. Roche appeared to be singing.


What do you think of your wife and Hicks?


I feel left out.

Antheil looked at him as though a part of his face were missing.


I

d say you took a fucking.


Look,

Converse said.

We have nothing to talk about.


You must be stupid. You

re not left out where I

m con
cerned.


What does that get me?


Maybe it gets you put to sleep. Or maybe you get to live your crummy little life.

Converse laughed.


What

s the matter with you? You think I

m being funny.


No,

Converse said.

I know what you

re being. You

ve got my number.

Antheil watched him in silence for a moment.


You better believe it,

he said.


Oh I do,

Converse told him.

I do.


You

re an educated man. You turned yourself into an animal for dirty payoff.


I don

t admit that,

Converse said.


You turned yourself into an animal for a dirty payoff.

Where

s your daughter? Don

t you care about her?


Sure I care about her. She

s wherever Marge left her: I don

t know where.


Terrific for the kid.

Antheil stood up with an expression of indignation.


Listen, Converse,

he said earnestly,

no Commie lawyer is going to save you. None of your lame maneuvers are going to save you. But I can — I can keep you alive. If I want to.


I see,

Converse said.


I want to hear about your wife. What can you tell me about her?

Converse thought about Marge and what there was to tell Antheil about her.


She worked for a theater in the city. Before that she worked in the Anthropol
ogy Department at U.C. She stud
ied acting in New York a long time ago.

Antheil sat down again. He shook his head in controlled impatience.


I know all that shit, man. I know about her whole funny family. I want you to tell me what you want to tell me.

Therapy, Converse tho
ught. He had once been to a ses
sion of encounter therapy
; the other participants had in
formed him that he was cold and remote. Someone had applied to him the term

automation-like

and they had tried to force him under a mattress.

So the last seventy-two hours were only the California sensibility continued by other means. Lots of confrontation between liberated psyches, lots of free associating.

He tried, wanting to tell Antheil something about Marge and then discovering what it might be. Esalen style.


She

s half Irish and half Jewish.

he said. That usually went over — it had social content and
an element of popu
lar humor. Marge was
driven to fury whenever he men
tioned it in company.


I

m trying to treat you like a human being,

Antheil said,

but you

re a fucking animal. Wait till you

re up to your neck in sand and the Bay

s coming in on your face — then get clever.

Converse hastened to apologize.


I mean,

Antheil said,

I want to know how to deal with her. Is she the kind of bitch who

d burn her own husband and split with a boyfriend and love every minute of it. Or is she a victim of circumstances? You know what she

s like.

Something of the concerned public servant had crept into his manner. Converse felt that he was being offered a choice of responses. If he wanted her back, Antheil would offer to preserve her from the blowtorch. If he wanted revenge, there would be some of that.


I think,

Converse said,

that she

s pretty moral basi
cally.

Antheil looked thoughtful for a moment, then his whole some features expanded in a grin.


Yeah?


She

s been under a psychiatrist

s care.

Antheil put a hand over his face and laughed heartily.


Oh Jesus,

he cried.
His good humor was nearly infec
tious.

What a couple of yo-yos you are. You must have been out of your minds, the two of you. A psychiatrist

s care!

It took him a moment to regain his composure.

Well listen — if you show me it

s worth it to me, I can take care of both of you. But you better do what you

re told.


If I

m in trouble, I

d like to square it.


You

re in plenty of trouble, my friend, and so

s your crazy old lady. If you act in good faith you might get out of this with your skin on. If you bullshit me, I

ll see you die.


What do you want me to do?


I want you to help us get in touch with her.


I wish I could,

Converse said.

But as I explained to your witnesses out there, I don

t know where she is.


So I gather,

Antheil said sympathetically,

but we think we do.


Then why not get in touch with her yourselves?


The people she

s with are as bad as it gets. When we go
in there, there won

t be much conversation. If you could
get to her — persuade her to help us out — things might go
a lot better for both of you.


Who are the people she

s with? I thought it was Ray
Hicks.


Do you know Those Who Are?


No,

Converse said.


They

re very nasty people. They

re friends of Hicks

.


I don

t want to be facetious,

Converse said,

but what is it they are?


Everything,

Antheil said.

Dealers, faggots, extremists. Scum of the earth.


What do they mean, Those Who Are?


I don

t know,

Antheil said,

and I don

t give a shit.

You want to help us out or you want to take your chances on the street?


I

ll talk to my lawyer.


No, you won

t, friend. You won

t talk to anyone — I won

t take the chance. If you want to square it, we

ll keep you where we can save you from yourself. And you

ll keep your mouth shut.


Suppose I walk out? Right now.


I told you what

ll happen to you.


Suppose I walk out anyway.


You can

t,

Antheil said. He seemed genuinely angry for the first time during the interview. Converse elected to preserve what remained of the fiction of volition.


Where do you want me to go?


Out of town. Not too far.


This can

t be legal.


You let me worry about that. I

m pretty good in court.


O.K.,

Converse said.

Antheil relaxed visibly.


You

ve just done something smart for a change. Maybe you

re getting smarter.


I hope so,

Converse said.

I don

t want you to panic,

Antheil said playfully.

I

m going to ask Mr. Danskin and Mr. Smith to come in now.

He opened the door that led to the living room.


Mr. Danskin,

he called.

Mr. Smith.

Mr. Danskin and Mr. Smith entered with the air of men performing a mildly disagreeable obligation. Antheil turned to Converse.


I think you all know each other.


It

s great to see a real loser really lose,

the bearded man told Converse. He was Mr. Danskin.


I just told him he was getting smarter,

Antheil said.

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