Page 9 of Something Tattered
"Oh, come on." I gave him a pleading look. "Obviously, something went wrong. It was like he didn't get the instructions or something. Hewason the list, right?"
Andy looked down at his paperwork. "Yeah. Number twenty-two. A late addition."
"But what was his name?"
Andy looked up. "I wouldn’thavehis name. Remember?"
Belatedly, it hit me that of course, he was right. This was all supposed to be anonymous, which had always struck me as incredibly stupid, considering that we met the candidates in person.
Sure, I got the logic and all. It was meant to keep the process free of "undue influence," as Claude liked to put it. But it had always seemed to me that if we wanted to keep ittrulyhonest, we'd just view the art by itself, without meeting the candidates at all.
A couple of years ago, I'd actually asked Claude about it, since he was the guy who made the final selections. His response had been typical Claude. "We're not just choosing the art. We're choosing the artists."
I knew what he meant. Sure, an artist's work was the most important thing, but the artists themselves could play a huge role in their popularity – or lack thereof.
Desperately, I looked to Claude, hoping for some insight. But already, he'd gathered up his stuff and was heading for the door.
I called after him. "Wait. We need to find out what happened."
"Good idea," he said over his shoulder. "When you find out, let me know."
I stared after him. What part of "we" didn't he understand? But already, he was gone, along with everyone else, except for Derek, who had fallen back into his chair and was now scrolling through his cell phone.
I stared down at him. "You're a real ass, you know that?"
He didn’t even look up. "Hey,Iwasn't the one who thought he was a stripper."
At the memory, heat flooded my face. "Yeah, becauseyoumade me think that."
Derek snickered. "I know. Funny, right?"
"It wasn't funny tome," I told him. "And I don’t thinkhewas all that amused either."
"Not my fault if the guy can't take a joke."
"A joke?" I sputtered. It was one thing for Derek to humiliate me. But did he have to involve an innocent bystander? "You know, you were totally awful to him."
When Derek kept on scrolling,I reached out and ripped the phone from his hands. "Stop ignoring me," I said. "This is serious."
With a sigh, Derek leaned back his chair and said, "Alright. You wanna lecture me?" He made a forwarding motion with his hand. "Go ahead. Get it over with."
"I don't want to 'lecture' you. I want to know what happened." I studied his face. "You obviously know more than you're saying."
"So?" he said. "Maybe it's a surprise."
Already, the day had been full of surprises, and not in a good way. With more than a little dread, I asked, "What kind of surprise?"
"Well, itisyour birthday."
"Forget that," I said. "I just want to know what's going on."
"And you will," he said, "as soon as I come up with a Plan B."
"A Plan B?" I made a sound of frustration. "I don't even know what 'Plan A' was."
When Derek made no response, I said, "Did you know that guy?"
"I might've seen him around."
