“Nobody does, Clyde-san,” Jay said. “Stick with me I teach you all sorts of shit you never knew. And, I give you an outlet for that rage that’s aching to get out.” Jay tapped the center of Clyde’s chest.
Clyde didn’t know what Jay was talking about. “I’m fine,” he said.
“You’re fine.”
“I mean . . . ” Clyde didn’t know what to say.
“You’re, uh, fine.”
Clyde shrugged. He was fine, nothing to worry about.
“What you’re telling me is you are not at all, uh, pissed off?”
Clyde considered the question. He knew there was something in him, but he couldn’t place it. “At what?” he said.
Jay spat and closed the distance between them, keeping his eyes on Clyde. Normally Clyde was uncomfortable with this much eyeballing, being this close to another man, but for some reason it felt fine with Jay.
“Everybody thinks anger’s a bad thing,” Jay said. “Some kind of problem. This what I’m talking about. Modern man been castrated like a goddamn dog. Fuckin neutered. You don’t have to pretend around me, Clyde. Never forget that. You pretend, I see right though it anyway, so don’t bother. You got a right to be pissed off, Clyde. I were you, I’d be furious.”
“Furious,” Clyde said. The way Jay said it made it attractive. “At what?”
Jay spread his arms. “Look around, Clyde. Take your fuckin pick!”
Jay grabbed him by the back of the neck and brought their faces close. Jay’s breath was smoky and sharp. “Fury, properly directed, is a good thing, Clyde, a powerful force. What makes the world go round.” Jay let go and walked on. “Sosei—that just means “founder,” by the way—Sosei wasn’t a Jap, he was Korean, an orphan. Ended up in Japan. Before he was twenty he was a second-degree black belt in Judo. He’d trained Shotokan, tae kwon do, boxing, wrestling. He took the best elements of each style and made something new.” Jay rolled his fingers into a tight fist in front of Clyde’s face. “With a focus on power. Nothing flashy, it’s not poetry,” Jay whined. “Sosei decided he needed to go into the mountains alone to perfect his craft. He trained all day, every day, year and a half. Punching and kicking trees to condition his knuckles and shins. Shins is sensitive, boy,” Jay said, throwing a soft kick into Clyde’s right leg. He was right, it hurt like hell. “That bone’s one of your best weapons. But if you scared to use it ’cause it gonna ache like a bitch, you already lost. When Sosei came down off that mountain, he fought by himself, no school or nothing, in the All Japan Tournament. Nobody’d ever heard of him.” Jay leaned in and grinned. “Guess who won.”
Clyde smiled.
“Month later, Sosei had the most popular karate school in Japan.”
Clyde’s head was full to bursting with everything Jay had said. They stepped into the yard. “Door’s always open,” Jay said, and gave Clyde a printout of the class schedule. Then he went in and the screen banged twice behind him.
Clyde got in his truck. By the dashboard clock, he’d been with Jay ninety minutes. Fury, Clyde thought, rage. Anger. After Longarm closed, the truth was the slightest thing had set Clyde off. He hadn’t realized until his mom had asked what he was so mad at, a question that had stumped him. Longarm? They’d done only what they’d had to. The bank? They’d loaned the money, it wasn’t a gift, there was no ribbon on top. During the period after Longarm Clyde had almost gone around looking for a fight, a fight that he probably wouldn’t win, which meant what he’d really been looking for was a beating. He didn’t know what that said about him—or his character, as Jay might put it—but it couldn’t be good. But that had been years ago. He hadn’t felt angry—furious as Jay might say—for a long time, hadn’t felt much of anything, really, beyond numb and tired. Sitting outside Jay’s house he felt something, an emotion so distant that Clyde had no memory of ever having felt it before. To have power over others, to dominate, to radiate confidence. Jesus, how cool would that be? Clyde wanted to feel powerful. It was the first thing he’d wanted in years.
Jay was a far, far better salesman than his daughter.
Clyde had started his truck and put it in gear before he realized he still hadn’t got his damn wallet back. That’s why you came in the first place, dipshit. Halfway across the yard she came out waving it. “Time to pull your head out of your butt hole?” she said, laughing. They met by one of the two tiny saplings surrounded by small white wire fences in the middle of the front lawn. Clyde saw that there was still some money in his wallet, and resisted the urge to count it.
Tina handed him a bottle of Amway shampoo. “I might be wrong but it seemed to me like you were interested.”
Clyde had shampoo at home, but thanked her all the same.
“It’s ten dollars.”
“Oh. Ten bucks?”
“Healthy hair requires daily treatment with a quality shampoo that’s got more essential vitamins and minerals than any other brand,” Tina said, touching a fingertip to the bottle. “You can’t get this in stores. It’s too good. They’re afraid to stock it.” She grinned with all her teeth and cocked her head. Her eyes sparkled.
Clyde opened his wallet.
Tina put a hand on his arm. “I already took the money.”
Turns out Tina was a pretty good salesman herself.
From Liberty Ridge, Clyde headed to Walmart to give Esther the rest of what he owed her. He walked all the checkouts before someone told him that Esther had been moved to Pets.
Clyde smelled the Pets Department before he saw it, all mossy water and dead fish. The floor where Esther was working was cluttered with aquarium parts, bags of fish food, crates of baby turtles, and loads of junk. Esther was tapping the glass of an aquarium and whispering to a fish when Clyde saw her. “Good thing I’m not with those animal rights people,” he said.
Esther flapped her arms at her sides. “Clyde!” she whined. “Mrs. Asbury had a stupid stroke so they stuck me in this shithole.” She cast an eye upward. “Sorry, hun, but it is, and not even one of your miracles would change that.” She whispered to Clyde, “This is the worst department in the whole store. Everybody knows it.”
“Well,” Clyde said. “At least you got the fish to keep you company.”
“Poor fishies,” Esther said. “I was just telling this one that it’s gonna be okay on the other side. His water’s filled with poop and half his friends are dead and rotting.” She leaned toward the glass again and sang, “But everything gonna be all right . . . ”
Clyde pushed a box out of the way to reach her. He took out his wallet.
“Hey!” she said. “You found it. I knew you would.”
“Yeah.” Clyde held out a twenty. “This cover it?”
“Oh my gosh, Clyde, really?”
He shrugged.
“At this point that twenty-dollar bill will cause more trouble than it’s worth. Seriously. You think Walmart needs your money?”
“No,” he said.
“Then put that away ’fore somebody gets the wrong idea.” Esther fluttered her white eyelashes and twisted sideways with a hand on her chest. “I am not that kind of girl, Clyde Twitty. Shame on you,” she said with a lot of breath, batting a hand in his direction. “Shame on you, naughty boy. I have half a mind to turn you over my knee.” She straightened up and then stared into a tank. Clyde slipped the bill back into his pocket. She’s right. Walmart’s doing just fine without my money.
Esther flinched like she’d been slapped, grabbing