FALSE FRONT Read Free Page B

head.”
    “Why
not? You won’t do anything.”
    “I’ll
shoot.”
    “No
you won’t.”
    “I’ll
kill you.”
    “I
admire your desire to be a hero. But you don’t possess true courage. Maybe dumb
guts. But whatever bravery you had turned around midway up those stairs when it
realized this was real and ran back to your boring pathetic garden, leaving you
quivering all alone. You’re not a hero, Tony. You’re a Cub Scout leader. You’re
the only person on the neighborhood watch group that you started.”
    “Who
are you?”
    The
man chuckles and says, “You want to protect my property, but seem to have never
read my book, which affords my property? Maybe you didn’t hear about it. I was promised
this and that, but the publishing house did nothing for the book. It’s a good
book. Maybe brilliant. You know how these things go.”
    “What
the hell did this book do to you?”
    “It’s
what it didn’t do for me,” he says, grabbing a book with the hand holding the
cigar and lobbing it at Tony’s feet. It lands with a clap against the wood
floor. Tony’s finger partially squeezes on the trigger, but then relaxes.
    “Calm
down, Tony. Reflexes can make us do things we regret.”
    Tony
takes a deep breath, but his finger still twitches at the trigger.
    “Just
a gift offering.”
    Tony
gulps hard.
    “You
shouldn’t have come here.”
    “Cops
will be here soon.”
    “This
will be the last place you ever go,” he says, drawing on the cigar.
    “What
does that mean?”
    He
looks over at the slumped body next to him and says, “I found him mostly dead.
I didn’t kill him. I’m assuming a drug overdose, or maybe he froze to death. It
gets cold in the Marsh at night. I know you know that’s not Air. You’re dumb,
but not that dumb.”  
    “I’m
not dumb,” Tony says, and he clenches his jaw as he peeks out the large living
room window. “What’s taking them so fucking long?”
    “It’s
not a movie, Tony. Cops don’t show up in real life. All those action movies are
the reason you got yourself in this situation.”
    “Stop
with your bullshit.”
    “I
was just saying that I’m using one person’s tragedy to remedy another’s struggle.
This dead guy here will lead to more production today than he probably produced
in his entire life. Everyone will read it now because of him. The book really
is better than 90% of the shit on the bestselling list. It just needs
attention.”
    “Want
me to read Air’s book? Is that what you want? I’ll read it. I’ll read it if you
promise to end all this and come outside with me. How does that sound?”
    The
man chuckles, puffs his cigar, and a huge heavy cloud blossoms around his face.
    “How
about it?”
    “That
would be a premature ending to the story.”
    “This
isn’t some story, man.”
    “No?
What do you think this is all about?”
    “About?”
    “Life
is story.”
    “You’re
crazy.”
    “Maybe.
But you’re dim. You entered a new narrative when you stepped through that front
door. A story you had no idea you’d be a part of this morning. You had totally
different plans for life.”
    “Stop
it,” Tony says, coming a bit closer.
    “Maybe
this is all just for attention.”
    “Attention?”
    “I
read somewhere once, I don’t demand much. All I expect is for you to love me so
much you kill yourself just to get my attention.”  
    “I
want you to stop talking.”
    He
reaches over and pats the dead body propped up in the chair next to him and
says, “Or kill yourself to help me get attention.”
    “No
more talk. Get down on the floor now, or I will shoot you,” says Tony.
    “We’ve
already had this dialogue.”
    He
lowers the gun a bit so it would explode in the chest of the cigar-puffing man.
    “I’m
going to take this off.” He grins at Tony, dropping the bandana from his face and pulling
off his sunglasses.
    “Air?”
    “Surprise.”
    “What
the fuck is going on?”
    “You
really didn’t know it was me?”
    The
shotgun shakes in