The Enthusiast Read Free Page A

I’m going to be going to college there in the fall. In the L.A. area.”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œYes. At Cal State Los Nietos. In the pre-law program.” I’d checked it on the paperwork fifteen minutes earlier. “I was wondering if you had any openings in your office for someone to help out part time. Just running errands or anything.”
    â€œI see. Well, there’s nothing like that right now, but why don’t you give me a call in a few months, around November? There might be something along those lines then.”
    â€œOkay. Sir? I really believe in what you’re doing. They really messed things up here.”
    â€œI’m sorry. Tell me your name again?”
    â€œHenry. Henry Bay.”
    â€œThe fiduciaries at that company were cowboys, Henry. It was the Wild West and they thought they could make their ownlaw, if you will. Fortunately, there are mechanisms in place for bringing the cowboys of this world to terms.”
    â€œYes. Thank you. Thanks very much.”
    â€œSurely,” he said, and hung up.
    I was too excited to sit still. I went outside and walked, getting out of breath so I could breathe in more of my first purpose ever. We’d all been acting like this was how it was, you got in your web chair and shut up, when all this time there were mechanisms. And I could help. I could make coffee. “Very strong and very black, Henry,” I could hear Troup say. “We have eighteen hours to put these papers before Judge Harridan so our friends from Controlled Dynamics can learn a little something about fulfilling one’s obligations.”
    â€œIt’s already brewing, sir. I’ve learned a few things myself these past few weeks.”
    His snowy eyebrows would flicker and he’d hand me an inch of paper. “Then tell me what you make of this finding, Henry. Your expert opinion.” But with a twinkle. I’d pour us each a cup and start reading, helping Dad in a way not even Barney could.
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    A few days later Barney came home on a break from summer session. He’d gone college-style, a button-down shirt and corduroy sport coat with jeans and sneakers. As we walked to AM/PM for charcoal, he said, “Dad’s a wreck, huh? Is he looking for work?”
    â€œHe’s waiting to hear from a salad bar.”
    â€œThose jerks,” Barney said, nodding toward the Controlled Dynamics buildings. “They got talented people in there and had them work on crap. Not just talented people. Dad. He believed in it.”
    â€œThere’s a guy who’s suing them,” I said. “I might get tohelp.” I told him about Troup, the cowboys, and my decision to take pre-law.
    â€œJesus,” Barney said. “Henry, that’s great.”
    â€œWe have to see what happens,” I said. “Dad says he doubts if we’ll get anything.”
    â€œI hope you nail these people,” Barney said. “I hope you ream them out completely. That’s great that you can do something like that.”
    My face flushed and I turned away, pretending to study the clouds over Capacitor Parkway.
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    A week later, by the speed run, Andy said, “Did you guys know there’s a magazine?” He took it out of his daypack: Kite Buggy , with a cover photo of a guy riding ten feet off the ground. The big cover line was STEPPIN’ OUT FOR SOME AIR WITH FREDDY PASCO. The smaller ones were PARA-KITE TORTURE TEST! and DO YOU NEED CUSTOM STRUTS ?
    In retrospect, the halftones and color registration were criminal acts, the paper was Bumwad Brite, and of course there was a magazine; there’s a magazine as soon as five people find a new way to hurt themselves. At the time, though, I knew none of that.
    I read it in bed that night. There’s a once-only Eden for you, your first copy of a magazine about your first enthusiasm. You need a strategy (page by page? flip through and go back?), but you’ll read that first one