Charlie stops. “They wouldn’t, would they?”
I come out of character. “What’re you talking about?”
“Is it really that crazy, Ollie?” he asks, his voice now serious. “I mean, who’s really gonna miss that cash? The owner’s dead… it’s about to be stolen by someone else… and if the government gets it… oh, they’ll really put the funds to good use.”
Just like that, I sit up straight. “Charlie, I hate to burst your seventeenth fantasy for the day, but what you’re talking about is illegal. Say it out loud… illll-eeeeeegal.”
He shoots me a look that I haven’t seen since our last fight about mom. Son of a bitch. He’s not joking.
“You said it yourself, Oliver – it’s the perfect crime-”
“That doesn’t mean it’s right!”
“Don’t talk to me about right – rich people… big companies… they steal from the government all day long and no one says a word – but instead of stealing, we just call ’em loopholes and corporate welfare.”
Typical dreamer. “C’mon, Charlie, you know the world’s not perfect…”
“I’m not asking for perfect – but you know how many breaks the tax code has for the rich? Or for a big corporation that can afford a good lobbyist? When people like Tanner Drew file their 1040EZ, they barely pay a dollar in income tax. But mom – who’s barely making twenty-eight grand a year – half of what she owns goes straight to Uncle Sam.”
“That’s not true; I had the planners at the bank-”
“Don’t tell me they’re saving her a few bucks, Oliver. It’s not gonna make a difference. Between the mortgage, and the credit cards, and everything else dad stuck us with when he left – you have any idea how long that’ll take to pay off? And that’s not even including what we owe the hospital. What’s that at now? Eighty thousand? Eighty-two thousand?”
“Eighty-one thousand four hundred and fifty dollars,” I clarify. “But just because you feel guilty about the hospital, doesn’t mean we have to-”
“It’s not about guilt – it’s about eighty thousand dollars, Ollie! Do you even realize how much that is? And it’s still growing every time we head back to the doctor!”
“I have a plan-”
“Oh, that’s right, your great, fifty-step plan! How’s it go again? Lapidus and the bank bring you to business school, which’ll bring you up the ladder, which’ll make all our debt disappear? Does that about cover it? ’Cause I hate to break it to you, Ollie, but you’ve been there four years and mom’s still breathing hospital fumes. We’re barely making a dent – this is our chance to set her free. Think about how many years that’ll add to her life! She doesn’t have to be second-class anymore…”
“She’s not second-class.”
“She is, Ollie. And so are we,” Charlie insists. “Now I’m sorry if that ruins your priceless self-image, but it’s time to find a way to get her out. Everyone deserves a fresh start – especially mom.”
As the words leave Charlie’s lips, I feel them tear at my belly. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Taking care of mom has always been top priority. For both of us. Of course, that doesn’t mean I have to follow him over the cliff. “I don’t need to be a thief.”
“Who said anything about thieves?” Charlie challenges. “Thieves steal from people. This money doesn’t belong to anyone. Duckworth’s dead – you tried to contact his family – he’s got no one. All we’d be taking is some cash that would never be missed. And even if something goes wrong, we can just blame it on whoever faxed us that letter. I mean, it’s not like he’s in any position to tell on us.”
“Oh, okay, Lenin, so when we’re done redistributing the wealth, we’ll just take this show on the road and go on the run for the rest of our lives. That’s clearly the best way to help mom – just abandon her and-”
“We don’t have to abandon anyone,” he insists. “We’ll do exactly what this guy’s doing – transfer the money out, and then we don’t touch it until we know it’s safe. After seven years, the FBI closes the investigation.”
“Says who?”
“I read this article in the Village Voice-”
“The Village Voice?”
“No screwing around – all it takes is seven years – then we’re just another unsolved file. Case closed.”
“And then what do we do? Retire on the beach, open a bar, and write sappy little songs for the rest of our lives?”
“It’s a lot better than wasting another four years kissing corporate ass and going nowhere.”
I hop off the bed and he knows he’s overstepped the boundaries. “You know business school is the best way out, and you know I can’t go there directly after college,” I insist, shoving a finger in his face. “You have to work a couple years first.”
“Fine. A couple years – that’s two. You’re finishing four.”
Taking a breath, I try not to lose it. “Charlie, I’m applying to the top schools in the country. Harvard, Penn, Chicago, Columbia. That’s where I want to go – anything else is second best and doesn’t help anyone, including mom.”
“And who decided that, you or Lapidus?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“How many opportunities did you give up because Lapidus put his grand plan about B-school in your head? How many companies have you refused offers from? You know it as well as I do – you should’ve left the bank years ago. Instead, it’s been back-to-back B-school rejection letters. And you think this year’s gonna be any different? Broaden your horizons a little. I mean, it’s just like dating Beth – sure, you make a nice picture, but that’s all it is – a nice picture, Oliver – a Sears portrait of how you think things should be. You’re one of the most brilliant, dynamic people I know. Stop being so scared of living.”
“Then stop judging me!” I explode.
“I’m not judging you…”
“No, you’re just asking me to steal three million dollars – that’ll solve all my problems!”
“I’m not saying it’s the answer to every prayer, but it’s the only way we’re ever gonna dig out of this.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong!” I shout. “You may be thrilled nursing paper cuts in the file room, but I’ve got my eyes on something bigger. Trust me on this one, Charlie – once I’m done with business school, mom’s never gonna see another bill again. You can tease and joke all you want – sure, the path is safe, and it may be simple – but all that matters right now is that it works. And when the payoff hits, that three million dollars is gonna look like bus fare from Brooklyn.”
“And that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Well, let me tell you something, buddy-boy – you may think you’re all private jet going straight to the summit, but from my side of the river, all you’re doing is standing in line like the rest of the lower-level drones you used to hate. A drone like dad.”
I want to smack him across the face, but I’ve been there before. I don’t need another fistfight. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I growl.
“Really? So you think that even though you’re one of the bank’s top associates, and even though you’ve single-handedly brought in over twelve million dollars’ worth of new accounts for Lapidus just by scouring the NYU alumni magazine, and even though almost every partner in the firm went to one of the four business schools you’re applying to, it’s still possible that you’ve been rejected two years in a row?”
“That’s enough!”
“Uh-oh, sore spot! You’ve already thought it yourself, haven’t you?”
“Shut up, Charlie!”
“I’m not saying Lapidus planned it from the start, but do you have any idea what a pain it is for him to hire someone new and train him to think exactly like he does? You gotta find the right kid… preferably a poor one with no connections…”