The Digger's Game by George V. Higgins Read Free Book Online Page B

put it on the brochure: ‘The Holy Sucker’s Men’s Club, Satisfied Customers At Play In San Juan.’ Ten pictures of fat guys and women. You should see the business it gets them. The used-car dealers and the appliance distributors and the Rich Kids A.C., the guys who really want to go and have the money we’re interested in, they take the pamphlet home. How does the wife argue with them? You’ve really got something you can work with, then. A trip like this is just something you get through. Then it pays and it pays and it pays, and it just never stops.”
    “You see, Greek?” Torrey said. “Now you understand? That all right with you?”
    “That’s pretty fuckin’ good,” the Greek said. “I got to admit it. That is all right.”
    “You never would’ve thought of that, would you, Greek?” Torrey said.
    “No,” the Greek said. “Just the same as you didn’t think how I was gonna get twenty-eight out of guys down in Dorchester there. Just like Mister Schabb there, got himself all steamed up, he’s gonna have someempty seats on the plane and he’s gonna lose, maybe fifteen thousand, so him and you get together and now as a result we got a pretty good chance of losing twenty-eight, instead. See, there was something you guys didn’t think of in a million years, and another thing you didn’t think of was to ask me if maybe I thought of something. I’m different than you, Richie,” the Greek said, “I always known, I known ever since I got out, and that was a long time ago, I’m the kind of guy that’s got to think about things, you know? Because there’s certain things I can do and certain things that if I do them, I’m gonna get inna shit. You, I done all right, see? You, you don’t.”

T HE D IGGER GOT UP at eleven and asked his wife for ten dollars.
    “How come I got to give you ten dollars out of the house money?” Agatha Doherty said. She was thirty-nine years old. She was five feet, three inches tall and she had a trim figure. She wore a nine-dollar tan dress. “You don’t give me enough as it is, and then you’re always coming back and dipping into it. I’ve been saving up to get my hair done. I got to have it frosted again.”
    “I thought you were gonna quit having that,” the Digger said. “You’re always telling me, how it hurts. And it costs, what?”
    “Thirty dollars,” she said. “It does hurt, it hurts a lot. They take a crochet hook and they pull your hair out through this cap that’s got holes in it. I do it because I thought you liked it. You told me you liked it, you didn’t care about the thirty dollars. Now I suppose you’re more interested in what you can do with the thirty dollars’n you care how I look any more.”
    “Oh boy,” the Digger said. He was eating four fried eggs, blood pudding and toast. “It does look good. I don’t care about the thirty. You’re a good-looking woman. You take care of yourself. I appreciate it. There’s very few women I ever see, raised four kids by themselves and look as good as you do. I said that lots of times.”
    “It’s nice to hear,” she said. “I don’t know as it’s worth ten dollars to me, but it is nice to hear. You shouldn’t eat so much, you know. That stuff’s all full ofcholesterol. You’re going to get yourself a nice heart attack if you don’t stop stuffing yourself all the time.”
    “Look,” the Digger said, “I quit smoking, right? You remember that? I got off the butts. Well, that don’t do the weight no good, you know? You’re so worried, how much I weigh, why the hell is it I couldn’t get a minute’s peace around this house every time I light up a cigarette?”
    “I’m not likely to forget you quit,” she said. “It was like living with a regular bear. No, I know that helps. And I thought, Well, let him put the blubber on, he’ll take it off later. Only, you didn’t. You just keep on, getting bigger and bigger. I bet you weigh two hundred and fifty pounds.”
    “I