‘I’ve had a great deal of experience in these matters,’ Rubber Ed told Bowden. He folded his hands on Todd’s file and looked at the old man earnestly. ‘I really think counselling is in order here. You’ll understand that my interest in the marital problems your son and daughter-in-law are having begins and ends with the effect they’re having on Todd… and right now, they’re having quite an effect.’
‘Let me make a counter-proposal,’ Bowden said. ‘You have, I believe, a system of marking halfway through each quarter?’
‘Yes,’ Rubber Ed agreed cautiously. ‘Interpretation of Progress cards — IOP Cards. The kids, of course, call them Flunk Cards. They only get them if their grade in a given course is below 78 halfway through the quarter. In other words, we give out IOP cards to kids who are pulling a D or an F in a given course.’
‘Very good,’ Bowden said. "Then what I suggest is this: If the boy gets one of those cards… even one — He held up one gnarled finger ‘-I will approach my son and his wife about your counselling. I will go further.’ He pronounced it furdah.
‘If the boy receives one of your Flunk Cards in April—’
‘We give them out the first week in May, actually.’
‘Yes? If he receives one then, I guarantee that they will accept the counselling proposal. They are worried about their son, Mr French. But now they are so wrapped up in their own problem that…’ He shrugged.
‘I understand.’
‘So let us give them that long to solve their own problems. Pulling one’s self up by one’s own shoelaces… that is the American way, is it not?’
‘Yes, I guess it is,’ Rubber Ed told him after a moment’s thought… and after a quick glance at the clock, which told him he had another appointment in five minutes. ‘Ill accept that.’
He stood, and Bowden stood with him. They shook hands again, Rubber Ed being carefully mindful of the old party’s arthritis.
‘But in all fairness, I ought to tell you that very few students can pull out of an eighteen-week tailspin in just five weeks of classes. There’s a huge amount of ground to be made up — a huge amount. I suspect you’ll have to come through on your guarantee, Mr Bowden.’
Bowden offered his thin, disconcerting smile again. ‘Do you?’ was all he said.
Something had troubled Rubber Ed through the entire interview, and he put his finger on it during lunch in the cafeteria, more than an hour after ‘Lord Peter’ had left, umbrella once again neatly tucked under his arm.
He and Todd’s grandfather had talked for fifteen minutes at least, probably closer to twenty, and Ed didn’t think the old man had once referred to his grandson by name.
Todd pedalled breathlessly up Dussander’s walk and parked his bike on its kickstand. School had let out only fifteen minutes before. He took the front steps at one jump, used his doorkey, and hurried down the hall to the sunlit kitchen. His face was a hopeful landscape of hopeful sunshine and gloomy clouds. He stood in the kitchen doorway for a moment, his stomach and his vocal cords knotted, watching Dussander as he rocked with his cupful of bourbon in his lap. He was still dressed in his best, although he had pulled his tie down two inches and loosened the top button of his shirt He looked at Todd expressionlessly, his lizard-like eyes at halfmast.
‘Well,’ Todd finally managed.
Dussander left him hanging a moment longer, a moment that seemed at least ten years long to Todd. Then, deliberately, Dussander set his cup on the table next to his bottle of Ancient Age and said:
‘The fool believed everything.’
Todd let out his pentup breath in a whooping gust of relief.
Before he could draw another breath in, Dussander added: ‘He wanted your poor, troubled parents to attend counselling sessions downtown with a friend of his. He was really quite insistent’
‘Jesus! Did you… what did you… how did you handle it?’
‘I thought quickly,’ Dussander replied. ‘Like the little girl in the Saki story, invention on short notice is one of my strong points. I promised him your parents would go in for such counselling if you received one Flunk Card when they are given out the first week of May.’
The blood fell out of Todd’s face.
‘You did what?’ he nearly screamed. ‘I’ve already flunked two algebra quizzes and a history test since the marking period started!’ He advanced into the room, his pale face now growing shiny with breaking sweat. ‘There was a French quiz this afternoon and I flunked that too… I know I did. All I could think about was that godamned Rubber Ed and whether or not you were taking care of him. You took care of him, all right,’ he finished bitterly. ‘Not get one Flunk Card? I’ll probably get five or six.’
‘It was the best I could do without arousing suspicions,’ Dussander said. ‘This French, fool that he is, is only doing his job. Now you will do yours.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Todd’s face was ugly and thunderous, his voice truculent ‘You will work. In the next four weeks you will work harder than you have ever worked in your life. Furthermore, on Monday you will go to each of your instructors and apologize to them for your poor showing thus far. You will—’
‘It’s impossible,’ Todd said. ‘You don’t get it, man. It’s impossible. I’m at least five weeks behind in science and history. In algebra it’s more like ten.’
‘Nevertheless,’ Dussander said. He poured more bourbon.
‘You think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?’ Todd shouted at him. ‘Well, I don’t take orders from you. The days when you gave orders are long over. Do you get it? He lowered his voice abruptly. "The most lethal thing you’ve got around the house these days is a Shell No-Pest Strip. You’re nothing but a broken-down old man who farts rotten eggs if he eats a taco. I bet you even pee in your bed.’
‘Listen to me, snotnose,’ Dussander said quietly.
Todd’s head jerked angrily around at that.
‘Before today,’ Dussander said carefully, ‘it was possible, just barely possible, that you could have denounced me and come out clean yourself. I don’t believe you would have been up to the job with your nerves in their present state, but never mind that. It would have been technically possible. But now things have changed. Today I impersonated your grandfather, one Victor Bowden. No one can have the slightest doubt that I did it with… how is the word?… your connivance. If it comes out now, boy, you will look blacker than ever. And you will have no defence. I took care of that today.’
‘I wish—’
‘You wish! You wish!’ Dussander roared. ‘Never mind your wishes, your wishes make me sick, your wishes are no more than little piles of dogshit in the gutter! All I want from you is to know if you understand the situation we are in?
‘I understand it,’ Todd muttered. His fists had been tightly clenched while Dussander shouted at him — he was not used to being shouted at. Now he opened his hands and dully observed that he had dug bleeding half-moons into his palms. The cuts would have been worse, he supposed, but in the last four months or so he had taken up biting his nails.
‘Good. Then you will make your sweet apologies, and you will study. In your free time at school you will study. During your lunch hours you will study. After school you will come here and study, and on your weekends you will come here and do more of the same.’
‘Not here,’ Todd said quickly. ‘At home.’
‘No. At home you will dawdle and daydream as you have all along. If you are here I can stand over you if I have to and watch you. I can protect my own interests in this matter. I can quiz you. I can listen to your lessons.’
‘If I don’t want to come here, you can’t make me.’
Dussander drank. ‘That is true. Things will then go on as they have. You will fail. This guidance person, French, will expect me to make good on my promise. When I don’t, he will call your parents. They will find out that kindly Mr Denker impersonated your grandfather at your request. They will find out about the altered grades. They—’