ericlustbader.the ninja-第2章

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　Nearing　sixty；　Sam　Goldman　did　not　look　a　day　over　fifty。　He　was　fit　and　trim　and　always　tanned。　This；　Nicholas　had　always　supposed；　he　maintained　to　set　off　his　shock　of　brilliant　white　hair　which　he　wore　long　and　bed　straight　back。　Goldman　was　enamored　of　contrasts。　His　face　was　somewhat　long；　lined；　pitted　slightly　on　the　crown　of　each　cheek。　It　was　a　proud　face；　dominated　by　large　brown　eyes；　despite　the　long　nose　and　generous　mouth。　He　wore　a　blue　pinstripe　shirt　with　solid　white　collar　and　a　navy　and　maroon　Italian　silk　tie。　He　knew　how　to　dress；　Goldman　did。　Despite　this；　his　sleeves　were　rolled　half　way　up　his　forearms。
　Looking　at　him　now；　Nicholas　abruptly　knew　why　this　was　going　to　be　so　hard　for　him　to　do。
　'I'm　glad；　Sam；'　he　said。
　'Well；　sit　down；　sit　down　then。'　Goldman　waved　him　to　a　beige　suede　and　chrome　chair　in　front　of　his　enormous　desk。
　It　was　not；　perhaps；　what　he　would　have　chosen　himself　but　all　his　clients　were　happy　with　it。
　'No；　I'm　fine　where　I　am；　thanks。'　Now　that　he　was　down　to　it；　he　realized　that　there　was　just　no　easy　way。　'I'm　leaving；　Sam。'
　'Leaving？　What；　you　want　a　vacation　already？　You've　only　been　creative　director　for　six　months　…'　'Seven。'
　'So　who's　counting？　Anyway；　you　want　a　vacation？　Okay；　you　got　a　vacation。　Where're　you　going？'
　'I　don't　think　you　understand；　Sam。　I　want　to　leave　the　pany。　Resign。'
　Goldman　swivelled　around　in　his　chair；　stared　out　of　the　window。　'You　know；　it's　going　to　snow　today。　On　the　radio　they　said　no。　But　I　knew　better。　An　old　campaigner　can　always　tell。　My　feet　tell　me。　Every　time　I　play　tennis。　I　said　to　Edna　this　morning　…'
　'Sam；　did　you　hear　me？'　Nicholas　said　gently。　〃That　Kingsley。　What　a　schmuck！　He　may　know　publishing　but　he　doesn't　know　shit　from　advertising。　It　took　him　long　enough　to　e　here。'　He　swivelled　back；　abruptly。　'You；　Nick；　you　know　advertising。'　'Sam…'
　'Resign；　Nicky？　Resign？　What's　this　resign？　I　don't　believe　it。　You　have　everything　here。　Everything。　You　know　how　much　we're　gonna　net　…　not　gross；　mind　you；　but　net　…　from　this　one　goddamn　campaign　of　yours？'　'I　don't　care；　Sam。'
　'Two　hundred　fucking　thousand；　Nick。　Now　why　would　you　leave？'
　'I'm　tired；　Sam。　Honestly。　I　feel　like　I've　been　in　advertising　so　long　that　lately　…　lately；　I've　been　waking　up　feeling　like　Count　Dracula。〃
　Goldman　cocked　his　head；　a　non…verbal　sign　of　query。　'You　know；　like　I've　been　in　a　coffin。'　'You're　going　back　to　Japan。'
　'I　hadn't　really　thought　about　it。'　He　was　far　more　pleased　than　surprised；　Goldman　was　unusually　perceptive　about　these　things。　'I　don't　know　that　it　matters。'
　'Of　course　it　matters　I'　Goldman　exploded。　'I　think　about　going　back　to　Israel　all　the　time！'
　'You　didn't　grow　up　in　Israel；'　Nicholas　countered。
　'I　would　have　if　it'd've　been　in　existence　then。'　He　snorted。　'But　that's　irrelevant。'　He　waved　a　hand　again。　'History。　History　is　all　that　matters。'　A　call　came　through　for　him　and　he　barked　at　one　of　the　sphinxes　outside　to　jot　it　down　as　a　callback。　'Listen；　I　don't　give　a　good　goddamn　what　we　make　outa　Kingsley；　Nicky；　you　know　that。　But　it's　a　sign。　Can't　you　see　that？　You're　hot　now。　I　felt　it　was　gonna　happen　a　year　ago　and　now　I　know　I　was　right。　You　really　want　to　walk　away　from　that　now？'
　'I　don't　think　want　is　the　right　word；'　Nicholas　said。　'Have　to　is　more　like　it。'
　Goldman　took　out　a　cigar　from　a　thick　wooden　humidor；　contemplated　it。　'Nick；　I　won't　bore　you　by　telling　you　how　many　bright　guys　would　give　their　left　nut　for　your　job　…'
　'Thanks；'　Nicholas　said　dryly。　'I　appreciate　that。'
　'Everyone's　gotta　do　for　himself。'　Goldman's　eyes　regarded　the　cigar's　tip。　He　took　a　bite　off　the　end；　struck　a　long　wooden　match。
　'I　wish　you　wouldn't？'　Nicholas　said。　'I've　given　up　smoking。'
　Goldman　eyed　him；　the　flame　in　mid…air。　'Just　like　you；〃　he　said　flatly。　'Everything　at　once。'　He　puffed　at　the　flame；　flicked　the　match　into　a　wide　glass　ashtray。　But；　unwilling　perhaps　to　admit　unconditional　defeat；　he　stuck　the　cold　cigar　unhappily　in　his　mouth；　chewed　on　it　meditatively。　'You　know；　Nick；　I　like　to　think　of　myself　as　more　than　just　your　boss。　It's　been　a　lotta　years　since　I　picked　you　up　right　off　the　boat。'
　'Plane。'
　Goldman　waved　his　hand。　'Whatever。'　He　took　the　cigar　out　of　his　mouth。　'As　a　friend；　I　think　you　owe　me　some　kind　of　an　explanation。'
　'Look；　Sam　…'
　He　put　his　hand　up；　palm　outwards。　'Hey；　I'm　not　gonna　try　to　stop　you　from　going。　You're　a　big　boy　now。　And　I　can't　say　I'm　not　disappointed；　because　I　am。　Why　the　hell　should　I　lie　to　you？　Only；　I'd　just　like　to　know。'
　Nicholas　got　up；　went　over　to　the　window。　Goldman　swung　his　chair　around　to　follow　his　progress　like　a　radar　tracking　station。
　'It's　not　even　very　clear　to　me　yet；　Sam。'　He　rubbed　a　hand　across　his　forehead。　'I　don't　know；　it's　like　this　place　has　bee　a　prison。　A　place　to　get　out　of　instead　of　e　into。'　He　turned　to　face　Goldman。　'Oh；　it　isn't　this　place；　itself。　There's　nothing　wrong　…　I　suspect。。。'　He　shrugged。　'Perhaps　it's　advertising。　I　feel　lost　within　the　medium　now；　as　if　the　electronicization　has　no　meaning　for　me。　As　if　I've　slipped　back；　somehow；　into　another　age；　another　time。'　He　leaned　forwards；　a　peculiar　kind　of　tension　lacing　his　upper　torso。　'And　now　I'm　beginning　to　feel　as　if　I'm　adrift；　far　out　at　sea　where　there's　no　sign　of　land　in　any　direction。'
　'Then　there's　nothing　I　can　do　to　change　your　mind。'
　'Nothing；　Sam。'　…Goldman　sighed。　'Edna　will　be　very　upset。'
　For　several　moments　their　eyes　locked　in　a　kind　of　silent　struggle　where　each；　it　seemed；　was　sizing　the　other　up。
　Goldman　put　his　thick　hands　flat　on　the　desktop。　'You　know；'　he　said　quietly；　'years　ago　in　the　police　department　of　this　city　it　used　to　be　that　the　only　way　you　got　ahead　was　if　you　had　a　rabbi　down　at　headquarters。　Someone　who　looked　after　you　when　things　got　rough　or'　…　he　shrugged　…　'who　knows？　Used　to　be　the　way　of　the　world　…　all　over。'　He　put　the　unlit　cigar　into　the　opposite　side　of　his　mouth。　'Now；　maybe；　it's　different。　Corporations；　they　don't　know　from　rabbis。　You　gotta　confirm。　You　gotta　suck　up　to　all　the　vice…presidents；　get　invited　to　their　weekend　parties；　be　nice　to　their　wives　who're　so　horny　and　unhappy　they'd　hump　a　tree　if　it　could　tell　them　how　pretty　they　look；　you　gotta　live　in　that　certain　part　of　Connecticut　where　they　all　live　in　their　two…storey　houses　with　the　semi…circular　drives。　Used　to　be　they　had　button…down　minds；　now　they　got　puter　minds。　That's　getting　ahead；　Nick；　business…wise。　So　they　tell　me。　Me；　I　wouldn't　know。　Not　first…hand　anyway。　I'd　retire　before　they'd　get　me　into　that　kind　of　trap。'　His　eyes　were　clear　and　they　sparkled　despite　the　fact　that　the　light　was　so　dull　and　leaden。　'Me；　I　was　brought　up　with　rabbis。　They're　in　my　system；　no　way　I　can　get　'em　out　now；　even　if　I　wanted　to。'　He
　sat　forwards　in　his　high…backed　chair；　his　elbows　on　the　desk　top；　levelled　his　gaze　at　Nicholas。　'You　get　what　I　mean？'
　Nicholas　looked　at　him。　'Yes；　Sam；'　he　had　said；　after　a　time。　'I　know　exactly　what　you　mean。'
　The　aching　cries　of　the　circling　gulls　hid　the　sound　of　the　siren　for　a　time；　but；　as　the　ambulance　drew　nearer；　its　wailing　rise　and　fall；　rise　and　fall；　blotted　out　all　other　sound。　People　were　running　silently　along　the　expanse　of　the　beach；　looking　birdlike　and　rather　awkward　as　they　tried　to　pensate　for　the　too　soft　footing。
　He　had　e　out　to　West　Bay　Bridge　early　in　the　season。　In　order　to　survive　now；　he　had　to　push　it　all　away　from　him；　into　a　forting　middle　distance；　not　too　close；　not　too　far　away。　The　agency；　Columbia；　everything。　Not　even　a　discovery　of　some　drowned　corpse　was　going　to　interrupt　his　solipsistic　world；　it　was　too　much　like　the　city。
　Oddly　enough；　it　put　him　in　mind　of　the　call。　It　had　e　only　a　few　days　after　he　had　left　the　agency。　He　had　been　in　the　middle　of　the　Times's　Op…Ed　page　and　his　second　Irish　coffee。
　'Mr　Goldman　was　good　enough　to　give　me　your　home　number；　Mr　Linnear；'　Dean　Whoolson　said。　'I　trust　I've　not　intruded。〃
　'I　still　don't　understand　why　you've　e　to　me；'　he　said。
　'It's　quite　simple；　really。　There　has　been；　of　late；　a　renaissance　of　interest　in　the　field　of　Oriental　Studies。　The　students　here　are　no　longer　satisfied　with　the　superficiality；　shall　we　say；　of　many　of　our　oriental　courses。　I'm　afraid　they　view　us　as　sadly　out　of　date　in　that　area。'
　'But　I'm　hardly　qualified　as　a　teacher。'
　'Yes；　we　are　well　aware　of　that。'　The　voice　was　rather　dry；　like　a　pinch　of　senescent　snuff　floating　through　the　air。　But　underneath　there　was　an　unmistakable　note　of　sincerity。　'Naturally　we　are　aware　that　you　do　not　possess　a　teaching　license；　Mr　Linnear；　but；　you　see；　this　course　I　have　in　mind　would　be　perfect　for　you。'　He　chuckled；　an　odd；　startling　sound　as　if　made　by　a　cartoon　character。　For　us；　too；　I　might　add。'
　'But　I　have　absolutely　no　familiarity　with　the　curriculum；'　Nicholas　said。　'I　wouldn't　have　any　idea　where　to　begin。'
　'Oh；　my　dear　fellow；　it's　a　piece　of　cake；'　Dean　Whoolson　said；　his　voice　now　radiating　confidence。　'The　course　is　a　seminar；　you　see。　Taught　by　four　professors。　Well；　three　now　that　Dr　Kinkaid　has　fallen　ill。　It　meets　twice　a　week　during　the　spring　semester　with　the　four　…　I'm　including　yourself；　of　course　…　rotating。　You　see　the　beauty　of　it；　Mr　Linnear？　You　can　leave　the　curriculum　to　the　others　and　stick　to　what　you　know　better　than　anyone　else　in　the　Western　Hemisphere。'　That　strange；　oddly　likeable　chuckle　came　again；　reminding　Nicholas　of　mint　chocolates　and　crime　sweets。　'I　don't　imagine　you　would　have　to　concern　yourself　with　overlapping　the　others'　material；　would　you？　I　mean　to　say；'　he　rushed　on；　as　if　enraptured　by　the　whole…hearted　assurance　of　his　own　voice；　'the　kind　of　things　…　uh；　insights；　as　it　were　…　into　the　Japanese　mind　are　just　the　kind　of　things　we　are　looking　for。　The　students　would　be　delighted；　no　doubt　…　as　would　we。'
　There　was　a　singing　discernible　on　the　line　in　the　ensuing　silence　between　them　and；　faintly；　Nicholas　could　make　out　the　inconstant　sibilances　of　other　voices；　like　ghosts'；　raised　in　argument。
　'Perhaps　you　would　care　to　see　the　campus；'　Dean　Whoolson　said。　'And；　naturally；　it　is　most　beautiful　in　the　spring。'
　Why　not　try　something　different？　Nicholas　had　thought。　'All　right；'　he　had　said。
　People　were　still　running　past　him；　attracted　by　the　anxiety　the　wailing　siren　brought　out。　A　growing　knot　of　curious　onlookers　hovered；　quivering　on　the　borderline　between　revulsion　and　fascination；　moths　circling　a　flame　in　an　ever…tightening　orbit。　He　concentrated　on　the　sound　of　the　surf；　curling　and　rushing　in　towards　him；　calling　like　a　friend；　but　the　human　voices；　raised　in　excitement　and　query；　pierced　the　afternoon　like　needles。　For　them　it　was　but　a　side…show　attraction；　a　chance　to　turn　on　the　six　o'clock　news　and　say　to　their　　　　　friends；　'Hey！　See　that？　I　was　there。　I　saw　it　happen；'　exactly　as　if　it　were　Elizabeth　Taylor　and　her　touring　party　who　had　rolled　through　that　particular　stretch　of　surf；　and　then；　as　placidly　as　if　they　were　contented　bovines；　…return　to　their　　　　　icy　astringent　martinis；　the　sliced　pepperoni　dial　someone　had　thoughtfully　brought　out　from　Balducci's　in　the　city。
　Hi