Below Zero

human oracle who could anticipate my problems and address them directly.”

Stenko said, “A Gore-acle.”

The rancher chuckled and quickly looked away.

“What?” Robert asked.

“Never mind,” Stenko said. “What did he say?”

Robert snorted triumphantly. Stenko thought it was one of the five Robert gestures that at least came across as sincere.

Robert looked him in the eyes and said, “‘Future generations may well have occasion to ask themselves, What were our parents thinking? Why didn’t they wake up when they had a chance?’ We have to hear that question from them, now.’ ”

Finally, after several moments, Stenko said, “So do you want an answer or do you just want to ask the question?”

Robert narrowed his eyes. “What is your answer, Father?” Sarcasm dripped.

“My answer is I was too goddamned busy to contemplate the question. Not everyone has the time to sit around and be bitter like your generation of thumb-suckers, Robert.”

Again, the rancher chortled.

Robert angrily raised his pistol and pointed it at the rancher’s temple. “You stay out of this. This is between me and my dad.”

“Don’t shoot him,” Stenko said lazily from the back seat. “If you shoot him, we’ll crash again. One car crash a day is my limit.”

Walter the rancher said, “Can I ask how far you boys are going to take me from home?”

Robert said, “As far as we want to. Now shut the hell up and drive.”

Stenko didn’t like the dismissive way Robert talked to the old rancher. He also knew Robert wouldn’t want to leave a witness who could tell the cops which way they were headed and describe the vehicle. Robert had turned out to be much more cold-blooded than Stenko thought possible. And so damned bitter.

“I’ve got a question for you,” Stenko said to Robert. “Why in the hell is it you feel like you’re entitled to a perfect world? No other generation ever thought they were, I don’t think. What’s so special about yours that you can blame me for your misery?”

Robert rolled his eyes with contempt. “Maybe because no other generation was handed a planet ready to burn up. Maybe because we’re better informed and we know that.”

Stenko said, “So if you’re all so smart with your computers and iPhones and technology, why don’t you fix the problems you’re complaining about? You just want to blame other people—me—and bitch and moan. It’s your turn now, so why don’t you solve all these problems?”

“What do you think we’ve been doing, Dad?” Robert said as if talking to a child. “It’s hard to make up for a lifetime of abuse in a couple of weeks, you old fool.”

Stenko decided he didn’t want to argue anymore. His son’s words cut him deeper than he thought possible. No one had ever called him a fool, or to his knowledge ever thought of him as one. It hurt.

Robert was what he was, thought what he thought, believed what he believed. Stenko gritted his teeth and said, “So how much do I still have on my balance? I assume you’re going to apply the cash to my debt. How much is left?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Because I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be around, son. I feel like my insides are on fire. I’ve taken so much morphine, I’m an inch away from killing myself with an overdose. I want to know what my balance is.”

Robert said, “Twenty-four million.”

Stenko was suddenly angry again. “That’s ridiculous. It keeps growing the more I do to offset it. How can that be?”

Robert wheeled around in his seat, his eyes flashing. “Goddammit, Dad, haven’t you listened to a thing I’ve been saying to you? Your lifestyle is such that your carbon footprint just keeps growing. You still own the casinos, right? You still own all of the real estate in Chicago and down south, right? And you don’t have access to your own cash. Every minute that goes by, your footprint gets bigger. You haven’t done enough or paid enough to offset the damage you’ve caused.”

Stenko sighed and let his head drop back into the cushions. “But I’ve done everything I can,” he said. “I’ve run around the country doing all these things. I killed for you—”

Robert cut him off. “That wasn’t for me, Dad. It isn’t my debt. It’s yours. Don’t you dare say what you did was for me. It was for you, so you could try to get to below zero, remember?”

“But you’re the one keeping score,” Stenko said. “You’re the one I’m trying to get to forgive me.”

“Don’t give me that role. I didn’t ask for it.”

Stenko closed his eyes and tried not to grind his teeth against the pain.

In the front seat, he heard Robert ask the rancher, “What the hell is that out there on the prairie? It’s lit up like an obscene riverboat or something. But it’s not a boat, is it?”

The rancher said, “That’s a power plant.”

“What kind is it?”