Come to think of it, there’s even a fourth life: that of Benjy Compson, who is just enough not-Billy so Billy can look at painful memories he usually avoids.
He started writing Benjy’s story on a laptop he’s pretty sure （no, positive） has been cloned because it was a challenge, and because it’s that fabled last job, but he now understands there was a deeper, truer reason: he wants to be read. By anyone, even a couple of Vegas hardballs like Nick Majarian and Giorgio Piglielli. Now he understands – he never did before, never even considered it – that any writer who goes public with his work is courting danger. It’s part of the allure. Look at me. I’m showing you what I am. My clothes are off. I’m exposing myself.
As he approaches the entrance to the parking garage, deep in these thoughts, there’s a tap on his shoulder that makes him jump. He turns and sees Phyllis Stanhope, the woman from the accounting firm.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says, taking a step back. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’
Has she seen something in that unguarded moment? A flash of who he really is? Is that what the backward step was about? Maybe. If so, he tries to dismiss it with an easy smile and the absolute truth. ‘It’s fine. I was just a million miles away.’
‘Thinking about your story?’
About bigamy. ‘That’s right.’
Phyllis falls in step beside him. Her handbag is slung over one shoulder. She’s also wearing a child’s backpack with SpongeBob on it and has exchanged her click-clack shoes for white socks and sneakers. ‘I didn’t see you at lunch today. Did you eat at your desk?’
‘I was out and about. Still trying to get settled in. Plus I had a long talk with my agent.’
He did in fact speak with Giorgio, although it wasn’t a long talk. Nick has returned to Vegas, but Giorgio is in residence at the McMansion, and he brought the two new guys – Reggie and Dana are their names – with him. Billy doesn’t think Nick and Georgie Pigs are tag-teaming him, exactly, but this is a very big deal for them and Billy would be surprised if they were careless. Shocked, really. The one they may actually be keeping an eye on is Ken Hoff. The patsy in waiting.
‘Besides, even when a writer’s not at his desk, he’s working.’ He taps his temple.
She returns his smile. It’s a good one. ‘I bet that’s what they all say.’
‘In truth, I seem to have hit a little bit of a roadblock.’
‘Maybe it’s the change of scene.’
‘Maybe.’
He doesn’t think there actually is a roadblock. He hasn’t written anything beyond that first episode, but the rest is right there. Waiting. He wants to get to it. It means something to him. It’s not like journaling, it’s not an effort to make peace with a life that has in many ways been unhappy and traumatic, it’s not confessional even though it may amount to a confession. It’s about power. He’s finally tapped into power that doesn’t come from the barrel of a gun. Like the view from his new apartment’s ground-level windows, he likes it.
‘In any case,’ he says as they reach the entrance to the parking garage, ‘I plan to buckle down. Starting tomorrow.’
She raises her eyebrows. ‘Jam yesterday, jam tomorrow—’
He chimes in and they finish together. ‘But never jam today!’
‘In any case, I can’t wait to read it.’ They start up the ramp. It’s deliciously cool after the hammerstroke sun on the street. She stops halfway to the first turn. ‘This is me.’ She beeps her keyfob. The taillights of a little blue Prius respond. Two bumper stickers flank her license plate: OUR BODIES, OUR CHOICES and BELIEVE THE WOMEN.
‘You’re apt to get keyed with those,’ Billy says. ‘This is a deep red state.’
She lifts her purse in front of her and gives a smile unlike the one she greeted him with. This is more of a Dirty Harry smile. ‘It’s also a concealed carry state, so if anyone tries to key off my bumper stickers, they better do it while I’m not around.’
Is that more show than go? The little accountant lady putting on a badass front for a man she might be interested in? Maybe, maybe not. Either way, he admires her for being out front about what she believes. For being brave. This is how a good person acts. At least it is when they’re being their best selves.
‘Well, I’ll see you around the campus,’ Billy says. ‘I’m up a few levels.’
‘Couldn’t find anything closer? Really?’