Excerpt
“Those people didn’t buy a car, did they Irv?”
“They said they’d be back tomorrow, Mr. Torgerson.”
“They won’t be back, Irv. They’ll go down the street to Pearson’s
and buy a Mercury, maybe even a Lincoln, because you didn’t
cinch that deal, Irv. You’ve got to cinch those deals, Irv.”
“I do my best.”
“Your best is going to have to get better, Irv. You call those people
tonight and you get ’em back in here tomorrow. You tell ’em
you’ll make a deal they’ll like, Irv. I want to see ’em sitting at that
table signing things.”
“They’re from up the river.”
“You find ’em. You get ’em in here again. You sell ’em a
Packard.”
“I’ll do my best, Mr. Torgerson.”
“I know you will, Irv.”
The salesman turned back into the show room. Torgerson’s
voice tracked him.
“Irv, I just know you will.”
Maybe it was because times were good, Torgerson thought, or
maybe it was because the mayor job brought him attention, but
Packard sales were up almost 20 percent over two years ago. A
third of the way through his first term, he was mapping out his
next campaign. Only I’ll really run, he thought. Last time was a
fluke, I know that. Ken Spear, he’s the one who could take it away,
but I don’t think he realizes it. Somebody will tell him. You can
count on that, because a lot of people would like me out. I piss off
too many of them. But, that’s what happens when you make waves
in a little town.
Torgerson looked up from his musing. Poodie James was passing
in front of the window. Torgerson moved through the show
room and out onto the sidewalk just as Poodie stopped his wagon
and reached into the used car lot for a Coke bottle standing in front
of a ’41 Ford Roadster. Torgerson charged over and stepped in
front of him.
“Get out of my lot,” he yelled. “Go on, get out of here. Go on.”
Manolis Aligizakis 