You can do that in a minute.
Nat stood there in the doorway, not speaking, not moving, his chest a tight blaze of heat.
What’s this about? Rick was looking at Mike, but it was Nat who answered him.
Just some business, Nat said. There was a tremor in his voice.
Nathaniel and I need to have a talk, Mike said. Maybe you wanna wait outside?
I’m not waiting outside, Rick said.
I think you are. Mike’s voice was calm and clear and tinged with the faintest sense of ebullience, as if he was glad to be of service in this way, or in any way at all.
Nat? Rick said. What the fuck is this?
This is already taking too long, Mike said.
All right, Nat said. He stepped backward through the door and Mike followed him, Rick trailing behind, the three of them entering the apartment and then standing in a kind of shadowy tableau, Rick in the still-open doorway, Nat near the sofa, and Mike between them.
That an Atari there? Mike said.
Yeah, Nat said.
What do those cost?
I don’t know, Nat said. We got it in a trade.
What kind of trade?
I don’t know, Nat said.
You don’t know?
I can’t remember.
Mike stepped forward and in one quick, almost graceful movement slammed his fist into Nat’s stomach and then turned to face Rick, who was already moving forward those few last feet across the room. Don’t, Mike said. This is business.
What the fuck does that mean? he said, standing now just a few inches from Mike’s face. Get the fuck out of here.
Rick, Nat said, doubled over, still trying to catch his breath. It’s OK.
What the fuck it’s OK? Rick said. And then, to Mike, again: Get the fuck out of here.
Don’t do that, Mike said.
I’ll do anything the fuck I want. Who the fuck are you?
I’m Mike. Maybe you need to wait out in the hall like I asked you to.
Fuck you, Rick said, but the end of the word was clipped off by the strike of Mike’s fist in his side. The blow had come without apparent physical precedent and with such speed that Rick seemed merely to stagger backward of his accord, slipping toward the doorway. In the next moment Mike’s hand came forward and pressed him, almost gently, through that aperture and out onto the concrete platform that topped the stairs, swinging the door closed with his foot and locking the deadbolt.
Please don’t hit me again, Nat said. I’ll get it. I’ve almost got it.
Rick’s fists were banging on the door now, his voice calling Nat’s name over and over, the sound of it muffled through the wood.
My god that guy’s irritating, Mike said. Look, you’re gonna have to give me something.
Like what?
I’m not leaving empty-handed, Mike said.
I’m tapped out, Nat said.
Didn’t you get paid last week?
Yeah, but it wasn’t a good week.
Ah shit, Mike said, exhaling. What did I tell you last time?
Not to miss a payment, Nat said, but I’m not going to miss it. I’m just a little late. That’s all. The hammering had stopped now and in the silence Nat could hear his own heart beating as if the distant echo of Rick’s fists on the wooden door. I’m trying, Mike, Nat said. I really really am. I promise.
You promise? I’m pretty sure you promised last time. Johnny doesn’t like excuses.
I know, I know, Nat said. He had straightened up now. His stomach felt loose and flabby, as if the muscles there had given up and were now hanging loose from his ribs. Look, you can take the Atari? OK? Will that work for right now?
What am I gonna do with that?
I don’t know, he said. Pawn it. Or take it home.
Mike stood looking at him. What kind of games you got?
It came with Space Invaders. We got Pitfall and Frogger.
Pitfall’s the one where you’re jumping over those ponds and snakes and shit?
Yeah.
That’s pretty fun, right?
I like it.
He seemed to consider for a moment. Both joysticks?
Yeah.
All right. Unplug it and put it in a paper bag, he said. But this is just a delay. I’m telling you, Nathaniel, if you knew the shit I had to do, you wouldn’t be late with a payment. Not ever.
I know, Nat said.
No you don’t, Mike said. He stood there for a moment in the doorway and then reached into his pocket and extracted a pack of Parliaments. You want a smoke? he said.
Yes please, Nat said.
He held up the pack and Nat took a cigarette and then was handed a silver Zippo upon which was engraved a skull surrounded by roses. The instrument weighed heavy in his hand and the flame it produced seemed to dance everywhere before him but he managed to get the cigarette lit and drew upon its smoke as if it were cool clean air.
You get that thing unhooked for me, OK? Mike said.
Nat turned and slid the television away from the wall and jerked the little tabs from their screws and then pulled the small game box forward, its four toggle switches shining in the grim slanting light. He wrapped the cables around its body and then went to the kitchen and hunted for a paper sack and was relieved to find one pressed between the refrigerator and the cabinets and he loaded that bag with the Atari and the two joysticks and then the game cartridges. His hands had stopped shaking now and his breath curled in white smoke before him.
What’s this place cost? Mike asked.
Two hundred.
That seems like a lot for such a shitty little apartment, Mike said, and then added: No offense.
It’s what they cost now, Nat said. The one we had before was three fifty.
Jesus, Mike said. That’s just robbery.
Nat handed him the paper bag and he took it.
Why don’t you make sure your friend isn’t going to coldcock anyone when I come through the door, Mike said.
Nat unlocked the door and opened it, the cigarette held in his hand. Rick stood on the landing under the darkening sky. Somewhere he had found a small length of metal pipe and he stood there brandishing it like a stubby baseball bat. What the fuck? he said.
You gotta put that down, Nat said.