either, because I work for him and that means it's his fault too. Win or lose, I hurt John. I don't wanna do that. Create a group of people who if they still buy Fords will buy them in Springfield because I ran for something their kid brother Mikie wanted.
If I beat him I'm a bastard, because I took what he wanted. If I lost, it doesn't matter; I'm still a bastard because I made Mikie work for it, made him spend a lot of money he could otherwise've kept.'
'Okay, that's what he said. But now that I've been in it like I have with you, I think he was pretty smart. He didn't come right out and say it, but he knew what politics made people think of you; hold you in contempt. Even when you're the guy they voted for, who won. You put yourself in their power, and therefore they despise you.
'Everybody liked Pat Merrion as long as he was a car salesman. They thought his friends got better deals than people he didn't know, so they wanted to be his friends. He encouraged them to think that. Then when it came time for them to buy their next car, they'd think if they bought it from someone else their old pal Pat would be sad. They wanted him to like them. He had the power. But if he ran for office he'd be asking them to like Kim. They would then have the power. They weren't as good and kind as he was, and he knew it. If one of them ran and won, Pat'd admire him. If Pat ran and won, they'd turn mean.'
Hilliard laughed. 'You do need a change,' he said.
'And the court job'd be a good one,' Merrion said. 'Unless people know someone when you're the clerk, you can say No politely, but say it. And if you do they're shit outta luck. I could get used to that very fast.
'Then there's the nice steady paycheck. Once you start drawin' it, you're set for life. Until it comes time for you to retire, at which point you get a pension. It's not like you start hoping your friend who got you the job loses his next election; naturally you still want him to win. But if some guy comes outta nowhere and sandbags him, well, at least you've still got your job. And on top of that, I've heard reports: There're people who say it's not hard.'
'No,1 Hilliard said.
'That's a rumor I heard,' Merrion said. 'I also heard you get vacation, and every year you stay there you earn more of it. I first heard that, I didn't believe it. But then I think about it. I can see why this would be. It's sort of like sex, I guess, little bit like getting' laid? The more you like your work, the more of it you're naturally gonna do. And therefore the more rest you need from it. Or else your pecker falls off.'
'I suppose,' Hilliard said. 'But could anyone actually tell when you were takin' vacation? How would they know, if they looked around and couldn't find you, that you just didn't happen to come in yet this particular day? Isn't that you're on vacation; you just don't happen to be there, is all. Taking the morning or afternoon off, maybe even the whole entire day, to take care of a few things you know? Errands and stuff, we all have to do now and then. How would they know you were off on vacation?'
'They generally wouldn't,' Merrion said. 'The clerks're a lot like reps are, in that respect. Which is another feature of the job I really like; the fact that you can be at work and on the job without having to be actually present in the building. I always envied how you can do that.'
'It's pretty nice,' Hilliard said warmly. 'I've said that myself, many times. In fact yesterday, when I was in here, that thought crossed my mind. Technically I was in Boston, because we were in session.
One-hundred-and-eleven-point-six miles away, two-hundred-and-twenty-three-point-two miles, round-trip. Eight cents a mile, couple dollars in tolls, Nineteen-dollars-and-eighty-four-cents if memory serves, and it does.'
'And plus which,' Merrion had said, 'there's this other aspect of it:
You associate with a much better class of people than you do playin' politics. Better'n I see in here, at least. You're now hangin' out with the criminal element. These're the guys alia liberals think so highly of, victims of society. Much classier type of person, by and large, 'n you're ever gonna run into in politics, people breakin' their word all the time.
'Job in a courthouse, you got some idea what you're dealin' with. Day in, day out, most the people you see're common criminals. And fully qualified, too, every last one of them, to be where they are. You know what to expect. Violators of by-laws, orders, ordinances and rules, regulations, all of those kinds of things, and all kinds, misdemeanors there, too. Your lower-grade felonies, less'n five years; malicious destruction of personal property; indecent assault on a child takes a real classy guy to do that. Gettin' out of a jail before you're supposed to; or you tried and didn't make it, just for tryin'. Forgery, too, all that kind of stuff. Guys who unlimber their dicks at high noon and piss their brains out in the street. Right there in front of the church, Most Blessed Sacrament, say, up in Cumberland, just as the casket comes out. Beat up their kids. Slap their wives around.
Swindle widows; cheat orphans; pick people's pockets. Bang into other guys' cars down the shoppin' mall, right? Without leavin' their name and address, so the poor bastard never knows who it was, put the dent in his car. Let their horny dogs loose with no collar and license.
All of that kinda crap there.'
'You've done your homework,' Hilliard said.
'Damned right I have,' Merrion said. 'First thing I do, 'fore I ask for a job now that I had this one, at least is make sure it's a job that I want. This court job I'd fit right in. My kind of people. I'd get along with 'em fine. I'd doin' the same thing you're doin', the State House: fittin' right in with the crowd. Tellin' dirty jokes with the rest of the lads. Steppin' quickly aside but rememberin' to look sad, some pal of ours gets indicted.
'Always sayin' the right thing and so forth. 'Tough thing they're doin' to old Magnus there. Trynah heave his ass inna jug; this's a serious thing. I hope it turns out all right for him. But do you think, just asking' here now, but in case it turns out they hook the poor bastard, I could have his parkin' space? Mine's awful far from the door. Rainy days I get all wet.' Takin' care at all times none of the shit spraying him spatters you.
'I've thought about it, all of that stuff,' Merrion said. 'I can handle that duty. The first thing you know, you're in your courthouse there, forty years've gone by like a shot. And you have not changed a bit. You don't look a day over forty yourself. No wrinkles, no lines 'cept from Florida, maybe, goin' down inna winter so much, or playin' a game of golf up around here any time you can fit in a few holes. But no more'n, say, oh, three or four rounds a week. Wouldn't want to overdo it. How would you get wrinkles, livin' like that? What'd give them to you? Never a worry about anything; had a care on your mind.'
'Well, your waist might get a little bigger,' Hilliard said. 'Might find pants a size or two larger fit better. But that's only natural; get older, you slow down a little. Lose a few teeth and so forth. But still chewin' your food all right. Making your way through the prime rib at Henry's Grist Mill. Another night a couple monster baked-stuffed lobsters with the butter and the crumbs the Lobster Trap does up so good? Little light table wine, wash it down? Well, that's what you gotta expect then. You eat right: you put on some weight.'
'But that doesn't mean you ain't well,' Merrion said, 'or getting' old.
Just getting' up there, is all. Need glasses all the time now? That's not age; it's all the readin' you have to do, papers and letters and stuff. You oughta get combat pay in that job, workmen's comp; all the eyestrain they put you under.
'No wonder you miss all those putts, can't see a bar-tab when you're out with a lawyer, another hard day on the job a drunk-driving charge against one of his clients got mislaid, again; nobody could find it all day. So they hadda continue the case, and this's the third time it's happened. Chances are if a couple of fifties show up tomorrow that complaint'll never turn up.'
'Ahh,' Hilliard said, 'you're not thinking, I trust, of that kind of career. Guys who do that kind of thing have been known to go to jail.
Guys who backed them for their jobs get most embarrassed. Reporters and voters are uncharitable; sometimes they think when a pol's friend gets caught dirty, that means the pol's a crook too. Can be a real handicap, next election. I sure wouldn't like to confront it.'
'Nah, I haven't got the balls to be crooked,' Merrion said. 'And I wouldn't do it to you if I did. I owe you more'n you owe me. But lots of guys did have the balls, Dan, a lot of guys who never went away.
'Ain't it strange,' they would say, 'how things just disappear around here. Must be I'm becomin' forgetful.'
'But you don't even have to do that. You're perfectly honest, do fine.
I know if I get it, people will say that to me, don't seem to have as much respect as they used to. 'Pilin' up the pension; got it made in the shade; without workin' a day in your life. At least since you left Hilliard's office, I mean. 'Till then you worked your ass off, doin' the guy's job for him.'
'That's the whole secret of this thing, I think. The keys is that first you make sure that's what you do: you grow old. Don't do any of this dyin' shit they got there, no matter what anyone says. That, as they say, is a grave
