D Is for Deadbeat

the side. "Uh-uh. Me and my mom got into this argument. They were going to my granny's for this Easter egg hunt and I didn't want to go."
    "Your grandmother's still in town someplace?"
    He shifted in his chair. "In a rest home. She had a stroke."
    "She's your mother's mother?" I didn't care particularly about any of this. I was just hoping the kid would relax and open up.
    "Yeah."
    "What's it like living with your aunt and uncle?"
    "Fine. No big deal. He comes down on my case all the time, but she's nice."
    "She said you were having some problems at school."
    "So?"
    "Just curious. She says you're very smart and your grades are in the toilet. I wondered what that was about."
    "It's about school sucks," he said. "It's about I don't like people butting into my fuckin' business."
    "Really," I said. I took a sip of Coke. His hostility was like a sewer backing up and I thought I'd give the efflux a chance to subside. I didn't care if he cussed. I could outcuss him any day of the week.
    When I didn't react, he filled the silence. "I'm trying to get my grades pulled up," he said somewhat grudgingly. "I had to take all this bullshit math and chemistry. That's why I didn't do good."
    "What's your preference? English? Art?"
    He hesitated. "You some kind of shrink?"
    "No. I'm a private investigator. I assumed you knew that."
    He stared at me. "I don't get it. What's this got to do with the accident?"
    I took out the check and laid it on the table. "The man responsible wanted me to look you up and give you this."
    He picked the check up and glanced at it.
    "It's a cashier's check for twenty-five thousand dollars," I said.
    "What for?"
    "I'm not really sure. I think John Daggett was hoping to make restitution for what he did."
    Tony's confusion was clear and so was the anger that accompanied it. "I don't want this," he said. "Why give it to me? Megan Smith died too, you know, and so did that other guy, Doug. Are they gettin' money too, or just me?"
    "Just you, as far as I know."
    "Take it back then. I don't want it. I hate that old bastard." He tossed the check on the table and gave it a push.
    "Look. Now just wait and let me say something first. It's your choice. Honestly. It's up to you. Your aunt was offended by the offer and I understand that. No one can force you to accept the money if you don't want it. But just hear me out, okay?"
    Tony was staring off across the room, his face set.
    I lowered my voice. "Tony, it's true John Daggett was a drunk, and maybe he was a totally worthless human being, but he did something he felt bad about and I think he was trying to make up for it. Give him credit for that much and don't say no without giving it consideration first."
    "I don't want money for what he did."
    "I'm not done yet. Just let me finish this."
    His mouth trembled. He made a dash at his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, but he didn't get up and walk away.
    "People make mistakes," I said. "People do things they never meant to do. He didn't kill anyone deliberately…"
    "He's a fuckin' drunk! He was out on the fuckin' street at fuckin' nine in the morning. Dad and Mom and
    Hilary…" His voice broke and he fought for control. "I don't want anything from him. I hate his guts and I don't want his crummy check."
    "Why don't you cash it and give it all away?"
    "No! You take it. Give it back to him. Tell him I said he could get fucked."
    "I can't. He's dead. He was killed Friday night."
    "Good. I'm glad. I hope somebody cut his heart out. He deserved it."
    "Maybe so. But it's still possible that he felt something for you and wanted to give you back some of what he took away."
    "Like what? It's done. They're all dead."
    "But you're not, Tony. You have to find a way to get on with life…"
    "Hey! I'm doing that, okay? But I don't have to listen to this bullshit! You said what you had to say and now I want to go home."
    He got up, radiating rage, his whole body stiff. He moved swiftly toward the rear entrance, knocking chairs aside. I snatched up the check and followed.
    When I reached the parking lot, he was kick-boxing the remaining glass out of the smashed window of my car. I started to protest and then I stopped myself.
    Oh why not, I thought. I had to replace the damn thing anyway. I stood and watched him without a word. When he was done, he leaned against the car and wept.

Chapter 15
    By the time I got Tony home again, he was calm, shut down, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. I pulled up in front of the house.