Chapter 17: The Red-Pen Exam

I studied for Tobin the way I studied for finals.

I had three colors of index card and a rubber band, and I did it at the guest house desk until two in the morning.

The red cards said what he wanted. The green cards said what he owed. The blue cards said what he was afraid of.

The blue stack had one card in it, and it said: Second.

On Friday at ten, I carried the stack into Helen's study and sat at the long table across from him.

Anders sat on my left. Helen sat at the end with her reading glasses on.

Beside her was the family lawyer, a small gray man with a briefcase, who had said "I see" four times since breakfast.

Tobin had come in his leather jacket, with a padded envelope and no breakfast.

"This is an exam," I said.

"It's a payment," said Tobin.

"It's both. Question one. Where is my eighty-four thousand, one hundred and eighty dollars?"

He slid the envelope across the table.

I tallied it in front of everyone. It was mostly ones.

"Three thousand, one hundred and twelve," I said at last.

"I sold the guitar."

"You're short eighty-one thousand and sixty-eight."

"I'm aware of the sum."

"That is three point seven percent of what you owe." I took my pink pen and wrote it on a sticky note. "I'm giving you an F."

"Can I get a curve?" said Tobin.

"No."

"What if I do extra credit?"

"You washed three hours of underwear," said Anders. "That was extra credit. It's already in the grade."

I put down the red pen and picked up a green card.

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