'Known as the good thief.'
'What were you, kind of a smart-ass?'
'I thought I was a genius. I used it whenever I wrote to mom. I'd sign the letters, 'Yours in Christ, Terry.' '
'This is while you were living with the girl?'
'Part of the time. Jill Silver, she was from around here originally, that's how we came to be introduced. I think she was in a high school production of Fiddler on the Roof and decided she wanted to be a movie star.'
'She make it?'
Terry finished his drink. 'Not till she had breast implants,' as he poured himself another. 'Though it could've been a coincidence. I told her small ones were more stylish. Jill comes home from an audition at the studio and goes, 'Well, smartie, guess what? My new rack got me the part.' So maybe it did. Within a month she's living with the director.'
'Tits,' Debbie said, 'can make a difference. I'm thinking of getting just a lift.'
'For what?'
'My self-esteem, what else?'
'The movie Jill was in, she played a flight attendant who's hooked on 'ludes. Pops one in the lavatory and spills coffee all over the passengers.
The other flight attendant was the star, but I can't think of her name.'
'What were you doing at the time?'
'Insurance, the only thing where I had any experience. But as a claims adiuster. Out there it was mostly fires and mud slides.'
'No personal iniury?'
'Some.'
'Could you tell when they were faking it?'
'Only if they got nervous and offered me a piece of the action.'
'Would you take it?'
'It' I felt sorry for the guy.'
'Compassion,' Debbie said, 'influencing your report. Even though you were helping the guy commit fraud.'
'You have to look at it more as a tip than a bribe,' Terry said. 'The lawsuit pays off, the guy gives you a tip. It's like when you win big playing blackjack. You tip the dealer, even though he hasn't done anything to help you.'
'You see it as a gray area,' Debbie said.
'Exactly. I called Fran one time with a gray-area situation, see what he thought about it. He wouldn't even discuss it. You know what I mean? Fran doesn't like to go on record.'
'He's a gray area himself,' Debbie said. 'If the injury isn't one hundred percent legit, don't tell him. And you know he won't ask. So he knew you weren't in a seminary.'
'Just my mother.'
'But Fran believes you're a priest.'
'Because of Uncle Tibor. He told my mom I got ordained.'
'He lied for you?'
'That part gets tricky.'
'Wait. First you came back from L.A.'
'The low point of my life,' Terry said. 'I was working for my dad again. I was drinking-I mean more than I usually did. I didn't have any money to speak of. No direction. I was in Lili's one night to hear a band, I thirtk it was the Zombie Surfers, and the Paionny brothers walked in.'
'Your old buddies.'
'I wouldn't say we were buddies. We played foot-ball together in high school. Had some fights-they used to pick on Fran because he had a girl's name.'
'I was thinking in the restaurant,' Debbie said, 'you should have that name. Didn't I say you remind me of Saint Francis?'
'You mean, what you think he looked like? If I'd been named Francis I'd be dead or punch-drunk by now, all the fights I'd get into.
You know what's the worst thing about a fistfight? How long it takes your hands to heal.'
'Okay,' Debbie said, 'and now you're in the cigarette business.
You make a few runs and take off for Rwanda with the thirty thousand.
Or maybe more.'
'You want to know if I've got any money?'
'That's what Johnny's wondering,' Debbie said. 'I wouldn't want to owe him ten grand and not have it.'
I'll talk to Johnny. Don't worry about it.'
She wondered if it would be that simple, but decided to move on.
'Let's get back to Uncle Tibor. He told your mom you were a priest-'
'You know why I went there? Outside of who's gonna look for me in Rwanda? I liked Tibor. I knew him all my life, from when he used to stay with us, and I wanted to do something for him. Paint his house, cut the grass, whatever'd make him happy. I get over there he says, 'I don't need a painter, I need you on the altar saying Mass, or you're no good to me.''
Debbie said, 'Your mom'd told him you'd gone to a seminary.'
'That's right, and I didn't tell him I hadn't. But I knew the liturgy anyway, from being an altar boy.'
'You were just a little short on theology.'
'When would I use it? Most of the people only spoke Kinyarwanda and some French. Tibor's idea was to get me ordained right away. He was eighty years old, had a bad heart, a couple of bypasses already, he felt he wasn't gonna be around too much longer.
He said he'd work it out with a bishop friend of his to get me ordained. I thought, well, the bishop can say the words over me, but that won't in conscience make me a priest, will it? If I don't want to be one? You understand what I mean? I go through the motions-who knows I'm not a priest?'
'Another gray area.'
'But before it's arranged, Tibor has a heart attack and I take him to the hospital in Kigali, the capital. I said to him, 'Uncle Tibor, just in case, why don't you write to Marguerite'--that's my mother'while you still can, and tell her I'm finally a priest? The news coming from you would make her even happier. Write the letter and I'll mail it after I'm ordained.''
'He wrote the letter,' Debbie said.
'Yes, he did.'
'And died?'
'Not right away.'
'But you mailed the letter right away.'
'So I wouldn't lose it.'
'You went all the way to Rwanda and stayed five years,' Debbie said, 'to get your mother off your back.'
'She's not why I stayed.'
Debbie opened a cupboard and brought out a box of crackers.
'You know what it looks like? You were waiting for her to die so you could come home.'
'I hadn't thought of that.'
Debbie brought a wedge of Brie out of the refrigerator.
'You came, but not in time for the funeral.'
'There was something I had to do before I left.'
Debbie placed a knife next to the cheese. She said, 'Five years in an African village--'
'Fran had to work on the prosecutor.'
'I know, but Rwanda. Couldn't you have gone someplace else?
How about the South of France?'
