Threeway, ch. 10, Brother Paul, p. 3 of 3
Brother Paul--cage fighter, preacher, parolee--lands a job. We get a Godfather reference. "Threeway" continues in serial form with a link to buy the book at the bottom of the post. To catch up on prior segments, start at the bottom of the blog. Enjoy. Tell your friends.
THREEWAY: A Short Novel for a Long Season
by
STEVEN LUBLINER
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, dialogue, and descriptions are the author’s creations and are not to be taken as true. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. All incidents depicting, suggesting, or referring to public figures or other historical persons are also fictionalized and are not to be taken as true.
Copyright © 2016 Steven S. Lubliner
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1530971292
ISBN-13: 978-1530971299
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
Prologue: The Personal Is Political i
1 Fillmore Pipp’s Boner 1
2 Big Mel Kriegman 16
3 Hi and Bye, Connie and Herb. 32
4 THE BROWN BAGGERS!! 40
5 Mittelpunkt 43
6 Mandy 51
7 Mandy In. Mandy Out. Mandy In. 66
8 Authenticity 75
9 Momentum 79
10 Brother Paul 88
11 Inevitability 98
12 Win. Lose. Repeat 108
Epilogue 112
Chapter 10: Brother Paul (pt. 3 of 3)
Paul stared hard at Mittelpunkt, looked at Mandy, laughed, and flipped them both off. Ignoring the butcher paper on the floor, he jumped from the floor onto a desk, dropped his pants, and said his piece as Mandy looked away.
“Uh oh. Bad dog,” he said, looking at Mittelpunkt. “You gonna swat me on the nose?”
“You need to clean that up,” Mittelpunkt replied.
“I thought Brown Baggers didn’t clean up their messes.”
“Clean it up, Paul, please,” asked Mandy.
“Big deal.” Paul wiped himself, wrapped the mess in the butcher paper, and cleaned the desk with tissues and hotel shampoo. He put it all in a waste basket liner that he tied up and set by the front door and went back to wash his hands.
“Don’t let me forget that,” he said, pointing to the package as he flopped down on the couch.
“I guess I didn’t get the job. Mama’s gonna be sad. My parole officer, too. Oh well. They’ll live.” He stood up to go.
“Sit down, Paul,” said Mandy. “You got the job.”
“I didn’t hear a ‘Welcome to the team.’”
“Welcome to the team, Paul,” said Mandy.
“It should be unanimous.”
Mittelpunkt walked over and held out his injured hand.
“Welcome to the team, Brother Paul,” he said. Paul was caught off guard. He showed Mittelpunkt’s hand some mercy.
“Did you mean it about me being vice president?” Mittelpunkt was taken aback.
“That was a joke. Vice presidents have a history of putting their foot in their mouth and embarrassing the president. The way you were going on . . .”
“You think my ideas are stupid?”
“We can’t win by telling voters it’s their civic duty to die.”
“You think I’d embarrass her?” Mittelpunkt said nothing.
“Well then, I’m fuckin’ qualified.”
“Paul, other than presiding over the Senate, which he hardly ever does, the vice president has one constitutional duty. That’s sitting around and being ready if the president dies.”
“Sitting around is at the top of my resume.”
“What about taking over from her?”
“Taking over from her?” he said incredulously. “What’s she done that you haven’t made her do? What’s she done ever except shake her ass? I’m a leader. I’m a preacher. I’ve run a church. I’ve run a business. From the lab to the street, I ran it. I got people to work for me and made them glad they did.”
“If that mattered most, Michael Corleone could be president.”
“Michael Corleone would be a damn fine president.”
“Paul, please be my vice president,” Mandy said.
“Now, wait a minute,” said Mittelpunkt.
“I accept,” Paul said, his tone declaring the debate closed. “So where’s this tape Mama told me about?”
“I’m keeping it safe,” Mittelpunkt said.
“I bet you are,” Paul sneered. “I bet you check it every night, make sure it hasn’t degraded.”
“You need to grow up, Paul,” said Mittelpunkt.
“If I were any more grown up, I’d be dead,” Paul replied. “Now, can I talk to my sister alone, please? Won’t take more than a minute. Probably less.”
“I’ll wait in the bedroom.”
“Actually, why don’t you go across the street for a cup of coffee? Take those Secret Service boys at the door with you?” Mittelpunkt looked at Mandy. She nodded.
“Fine, I’ll go, but the guard won’t leave even if she tells them to,” said Mittelpunkt. “They work for America.”
“Tell them I’m on the ticket, and America wants them to get me a po’ boy. And if one of them could drive me back to mama’s, that’d be cool.” Mittelpunkt grabbed his coat. After speaking with the agents, he went downstairs and sat by the pool. Six flights down, he could hear Mandy and Paul yelling through the open sliding door. When he came back, Mandy was fighting back tears.
“My ride set up?” Paul asked. Mittelpunkt nodded. “Boy, mama’s gonna shit when I tell her what’s happened. He squeezed Mandy’s shoulder, shook Mittelpunkt’s hand, and grabbed the bag of waste by the door.
“I hope you’ll pardon me,” he said.
“You put on a good show, forget it,” said Mittelpunkt.
“What, this?” Paul pointed at the bag. “I don’t give a damn about this. I wasn’t talking to you.” He looked at his sister.
“Mandy, I’ve always done right by you. If we get elected, I hope you’ll pardon me. I may need a real job someday. That’s hard for a man with a record.” He nodded formally and left.
Later, Mittelpunkt initiated intimacies without prompting. It was strictly political. He went over her from head to toe. The special attention puzzled Mandy. Mittelpunkt found nothing out of line. Whatever had happened between Mandy and her brother would remain a fiercely guarded family secret, at least until they wrote their books.
As Mittelpunkt lay in bed that night, he reflected on America’s role. For all its flaws, it truly was a light unto the nations, showing that a government built on Enlightenment principles could work to the betterment of all, more or less, and eventually. Other countries had contributed blood and brains and had exhibited courage, but it was America that had won two world wars and had led technological and moral revolutions. No moral man just takes from America. You must give back. What would he be giving America if Mandy and Brother Paul won the election? A bubbly sex machine and a dangerously self-taught ex-con. America deserved better. He knew that with every fiber of his being.
“Dear God,” he said aloud, “What have I done?”
He smiled.
Buy Threeway.
Read the review on Kirkus Reviews.
Read an article about the author.
Review Threeway on Goodreads.
Buy A Child's Christmas in Queens.
THREEWAY: A Short Novel for a Long Season
by
STEVEN LUBLINER
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, dialogue, and descriptions are the author’s creations and are not to be taken as true. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. All incidents depicting, suggesting, or referring to public figures or other historical persons are also fictionalized and are not to be taken as true.
Copyright © 2016 Steven S. Lubliner
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1530971292
ISBN-13: 978-1530971299
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
Prologue: The Personal Is Political i
1 Fillmore Pipp’s Boner 1
2 Big Mel Kriegman 16
3 Hi and Bye, Connie and Herb. 32
4 THE BROWN BAGGERS!! 40
5 Mittelpunkt 43
6 Mandy 51
7 Mandy In. Mandy Out. Mandy In. 66
8 Authenticity 75
9 Momentum 79
10 Brother Paul 88
11 Inevitability 98
12 Win. Lose. Repeat 108
Epilogue 112
Chapter 10: Brother Paul (pt. 3 of 3)
Paul stared hard at Mittelpunkt, looked at Mandy, laughed, and flipped them both off. Ignoring the butcher paper on the floor, he jumped from the floor onto a desk, dropped his pants, and said his piece as Mandy looked away.
“Uh oh. Bad dog,” he said, looking at Mittelpunkt. “You gonna swat me on the nose?”
“You need to clean that up,” Mittelpunkt replied.
“I thought Brown Baggers didn’t clean up their messes.”
“Clean it up, Paul, please,” asked Mandy.
“Big deal.” Paul wiped himself, wrapped the mess in the butcher paper, and cleaned the desk with tissues and hotel shampoo. He put it all in a waste basket liner that he tied up and set by the front door and went back to wash his hands.
“Don’t let me forget that,” he said, pointing to the package as he flopped down on the couch.
“I guess I didn’t get the job. Mama’s gonna be sad. My parole officer, too. Oh well. They’ll live.” He stood up to go.
“Sit down, Paul,” said Mandy. “You got the job.”
“I didn’t hear a ‘Welcome to the team.’”
“Welcome to the team, Paul,” said Mandy.
“It should be unanimous.”
Mittelpunkt walked over and held out his injured hand.
“Welcome to the team, Brother Paul,” he said. Paul was caught off guard. He showed Mittelpunkt’s hand some mercy.
“Did you mean it about me being vice president?” Mittelpunkt was taken aback.
“That was a joke. Vice presidents have a history of putting their foot in their mouth and embarrassing the president. The way you were going on . . .”
“You think my ideas are stupid?”
“We can’t win by telling voters it’s their civic duty to die.”
“You think I’d embarrass her?” Mittelpunkt said nothing.
“Well then, I’m fuckin’ qualified.”
“Paul, other than presiding over the Senate, which he hardly ever does, the vice president has one constitutional duty. That’s sitting around and being ready if the president dies.”
“Sitting around is at the top of my resume.”
“What about taking over from her?”
“Taking over from her?” he said incredulously. “What’s she done that you haven’t made her do? What’s she done ever except shake her ass? I’m a leader. I’m a preacher. I’ve run a church. I’ve run a business. From the lab to the street, I ran it. I got people to work for me and made them glad they did.”
“If that mattered most, Michael Corleone could be president.”
“Michael Corleone would be a damn fine president.”
“Paul, please be my vice president,” Mandy said.
“Now, wait a minute,” said Mittelpunkt.
“I accept,” Paul said, his tone declaring the debate closed. “So where’s this tape Mama told me about?”
“I’m keeping it safe,” Mittelpunkt said.
“I bet you are,” Paul sneered. “I bet you check it every night, make sure it hasn’t degraded.”
“You need to grow up, Paul,” said Mittelpunkt.
“If I were any more grown up, I’d be dead,” Paul replied. “Now, can I talk to my sister alone, please? Won’t take more than a minute. Probably less.”
“I’ll wait in the bedroom.”
“Actually, why don’t you go across the street for a cup of coffee? Take those Secret Service boys at the door with you?” Mittelpunkt looked at Mandy. She nodded.
“Fine, I’ll go, but the guard won’t leave even if she tells them to,” said Mittelpunkt. “They work for America.”
“Tell them I’m on the ticket, and America wants them to get me a po’ boy. And if one of them could drive me back to mama’s, that’d be cool.” Mittelpunkt grabbed his coat. After speaking with the agents, he went downstairs and sat by the pool. Six flights down, he could hear Mandy and Paul yelling through the open sliding door. When he came back, Mandy was fighting back tears.
“My ride set up?” Paul asked. Mittelpunkt nodded. “Boy, mama’s gonna shit when I tell her what’s happened. He squeezed Mandy’s shoulder, shook Mittelpunkt’s hand, and grabbed the bag of waste by the door.
“I hope you’ll pardon me,” he said.
“You put on a good show, forget it,” said Mittelpunkt.
“What, this?” Paul pointed at the bag. “I don’t give a damn about this. I wasn’t talking to you.” He looked at his sister.
“Mandy, I’ve always done right by you. If we get elected, I hope you’ll pardon me. I may need a real job someday. That’s hard for a man with a record.” He nodded formally and left.
Later, Mittelpunkt initiated intimacies without prompting. It was strictly political. He went over her from head to toe. The special attention puzzled Mandy. Mittelpunkt found nothing out of line. Whatever had happened between Mandy and her brother would remain a fiercely guarded family secret, at least until they wrote their books.
As Mittelpunkt lay in bed that night, he reflected on America’s role. For all its flaws, it truly was a light unto the nations, showing that a government built on Enlightenment principles could work to the betterment of all, more or less, and eventually. Other countries had contributed blood and brains and had exhibited courage, but it was America that had won two world wars and had led technological and moral revolutions. No moral man just takes from America. You must give back. What would he be giving America if Mandy and Brother Paul won the election? A bubbly sex machine and a dangerously self-taught ex-con. America deserved better. He knew that with every fiber of his being.
“Dear God,” he said aloud, “What have I done?”
He smiled.
Buy Threeway.
Read the review on Kirkus Reviews.
Read an article about the author.
Review Threeway on Goodreads.
Buy A Child's Christmas in Queens.
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