Unscrewing Your Head

Kiss off. The second offer was a little better, but they wanted to hold up most of the money until publication release. Kiss off, I said. It's the third deal that looks best, but you've got to sign this thing, too. Reprint money is a fifty-fifty split. If the book makes two dollars, you get one buck and Ginge Publishing gets the other. Got it, Henry?"

"Got it."

"Eight hundred thousand dollars, Henry! Publication date is eleven months from our original publication day. They're so hungry for the book, Henry, they'll pay us any way we slice it. They'll bring it over in a wheelbarrow in stacks of twenties if we want them to. I told them I'd call you and get back to them. What do you say?"

I rubbed the top of my head. "Hell, Frank, in this kind of situation, you're the professor and I'm the student. Do whatever the hell you want, and I'll sign the papers."

"Good. Now about royalties. You've already earned a load of money from hard cover royalties this year. I'll talk to my accountants if you want and see what kind of juggling we can do so you don't have to pay taxes on six or seven hundred thousand dollars in one year."

"Am I going to make that much money this year?"

"If we sign this new deal, you will."

"Thanks for the good news, Frank." I took a breath. "Oh, Frank?"

"Yes."

"Could you see your way clear to sending me another hundred thousand right away?"

Let me tell you there was a hell of a long pause on that one. Finally, Frank said hoarsely, "Henry, I just sent you a hundred thousand a short time ago. What did you do with that?"

I said slowly with exaggerated sadness into the phone, "A hundred thousand doesn't last forever, Frank."

I heard some kind of peculiar sound. I assumed it was probably Frank's eyeballs rolling around in his head. "Okay, right away. Today. But Henry, do me a favor, will you?"

"Anything, Frank," I said as sincere as a television preacher.

"Get yourself a good lawyer. A local Mobile powerhouse. An old guy. Somebody who has handled wills and trusts for wealthy Mobile people. Get yourself an accountant. An old guy. Somebody who is very religious. You're going to piss all this money away if you don't get yourself a keeper. Get yourself married again. Find yourself a country girl who likes to cook. A girl who ain't never been more than twenty-seven miles from home and then she was riding in a pick-up truck. Do that for me, Henry. Do that for yourself, too."

"I think I may have found the country girl. She likes to cook from scratch and she drives a minivan. Is that close enough?"

"You're on the right track, Henry. Now, get a lawyer and the accountant, too."

I said, "You're right, of course. I'll give it a try, Frank."

"Oh, say Henry. I've got to go to Dallas on Wednesday. What do you said I fly into Mobile on Thursday? We've never met face-to-face. I'd like to take you out to dinner. Talk a little business. Get acquainted. What do you say? Can you do it Thursday?"

"Yeah. Uh, Frank. Can you bring your wife?"

"Well, she works and she might not... hell, why not? I'll talk her into it."

"Good. I'll bring Becky, the girl I'm going to marry. She's a simple, poor country girl, Frank, and you'll like her. And, Frank?"

"Yes?"

When I eat the last meal of the day, it's supper. Do you and your wife like seafood?"