Straight Man

nothing.”
    When Herbert looks at me, as if to ascertain whether this could be true, it occurs to me that maybe they’re playing good cop–bad cop. Maybe this was the strategy they were working out in the woods.
    “Paulie,” Herbert says, weighing his words carefully, “I disagree. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish this conversation with Hank alone.”
    “I didn’t want to come over here to begin with,” Rourke reminds him, his hand on the doorknob.
    “Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge,” I call to him when the door closes behind him. “Mi casa, su casa.”
    “That man truly loathes you,” Herbert says, when he’s sure Rourke isn’t coming back.
    “I don’t think so.” I smile. “I just give his life focus, that’s all.” In truth, it’s more likely that Herbert loathes me, but I don’t say that.
    “Look,” Herbert says, “I see no reason why the cards shouldn’t be faceup on the table. We both know you’ve had your differences with the union over the years. Pretty much right from the beginning. Is this a fair assessment? Is this a fair thing to say?”
    “I’ve had a few differences with the other guys too,” I remind him. “You’re not the only ones who think I’m a prick.”
    He ignores all this. “And I’m not just talking about all these grievances against you,” he adds. “I know it runs deeper than that. You think we defend incompetence, promote mediocrity.”
    “I wish you
would
promote mediocrity,” I assure him. “Mediocrity is a reasonable goal for our institution.”
    Herbert makes a gesture that suggests he doesn’t necessarily agree but won’t dispute the matter now. “Here’s my point, Hank. It’s this. There are a number of people who agree with you, but they’re on
our
side on this one. Your buddy Paulie is one of them. He also voted no on the union, if you recall.”
    “The vote was over a decade ago,” I remind Herbert. “And I don’t recall how he voted because it was a secret ballot.”
    “He voted no,” Herbert says. “So did you. Trust me.”
    I do trust him on this one matter, though it’s a little disconcerting for both of us to remember so clearly what only one of us is supposed to know for sure.
    “What I’m saying is, nobody expects you to become a union man. We win this thing and you can go right back to the way you were before. Be a rogue, like Paulie says, if that’s what you enjoy. I don’t blame you. It’s nice to be courted, not to be taken for granted. I understand that.”
    “Herbert,” I start to demur, but he holds up a hand to stop me, as if to suggest that he knows my motives better than I do, so there’s no point.
    “We’d like you to be on our side because it’s the right side and because we could use you. The way you handle yourself on TV, I can see you being our point man on this if you wanted to be. At the very least you could rally your own troops. English has more votes than any other department.”
    “They never go anywhere in a block, though, Herbert,” I assure him.
    “This time they might. Hell, I just talked with Teddy and June. When was the last time they ever sided with Paulie and Finny?”
    He’s watching me carefully now, waiting to see how I’ll absorb this news. I realize that the subtext of this discussion is very different from its text. On the surface Herbert wants me to know that I’m indispensable to the cause. Below it, I’m to know that my department and my friends have already aligned themselves against me. I can be point man, or I can cease to exist. It’s testimony to Herbert’s rhetorical sophistication that text and subtext do not appear to contradict each other. It makes no difference.
    But even if I’m not sure how, I suspect it makes a difference. To Herbert. To Dickie Pope. To me. “You said something about a favor, Herbert,” I remind him.
    He nods slowly. “We’d like to know your intentions, Hank. You decide you’d like to fight the good fight with your friends, we’d love to have you. You decide you want to make friends with Dickie, go. We just need to know who we can count on. Don’t be coy, Hank, is what I’m saying.”
    “What if I say a plague on both your houses?”
    This makes Herbert thoughtful again. “A rogue right to the bitter end, eh? You could try that, I suppose. Me? I wouldn’t want to be a friendless man right now, but maybe you’re different. Personally, I’d think of neutrality as a death wish.”
    I can’t help