The Chain(10)

“Fifteen thousand. But it’s fine, Colin, I’m good for it. I’m starting a new job in January,” she says.

“Oh?”

“I’ve been hired to teach some classes at Newburyport Community College. Introduction to Modern Philosophy. Existentialism, Schopenhauer, Wittgenstein, all that good stuff.”

“Finally using that degree, eh?”

“Yeah. Look, I’ve brought the employment contract and the full salary details. It’s not much but it’s a steady paycheck and it’s more than I was getting as an Uber driver. Things are really going great for us now, Colin—just, you know, apart from the roof,” she says as she hands over the documents.

Colin examines the paperwork and then looks up and examines her. He knows something is wrong. She probably looks awful. Wizened, thin, worried. Like someone whose breast cancer has returned or who is in the final stages of a methamphetamine death spiral.

His eyes narrow. His mood changes. He shakes his head. “I’m afraid we can’t defer any more payments and we can’t add anything to the original loan. I wouldn’t be allowed to do that. I have very little discretion in these matters.”

“A second mortgage, then,” she says.

He shakes his head again. “I’m sorry, Rachel, but your house isn’t a safe enough asset for that. To be brutally honest, it’s just a glorified beach shack, isn’t it? And you’re not even really on the beach.”

“We’re on the tidal basin. It’s waterfront property, Colin.”

“I’m very sorry. I know you and Marty talked for years about remodeling it, but you never did, did you? It’s not properly winterized, there’s no central air.”

“The land itself, then. Property prices have been going up around here.”

“You’re on the unfashionable western side of Plum Island, not the Atlantic side. You face the marshes and you’re in the flood zone. I’m sorry, Rachel, there’s nothing I can do for you.”

“But, but…I have this new job.”

“This employment contract at the community college is only for one semester. You’re a bad risk for the bank—you can see that, can’t you?”

“You know I’m good for it,” she insists. “You know me, Colin. I’m almost always on time. I pay my debts. I work hard.”

“Yes. But that’s not the issue.”

“And what about Marty? He’s a junior partner now. I’ve been letting him slide on the child-support payments because of Tammy’s bankruptcy, but—”

“Tammy?”

“His new girlfriend.”

“She went bankrupt?”

Crap, Rachel thinks. She knows this information will not help her case, so she tries to rush through it.

“Oh, it’s nothing. She had a chocolate store in Harvard Square, and it went under. She’s not a businesswoman. I think she’s only about twenty-five or—”

“How do you lose money selling chocolate in the munchies capital of New England?”

“I don’t know. Look, Colin. We’re old friends. And I…I need this. I need it as soon as possible. It’s an emergency.”

Colin leans back in his chair.

Rachel sees him turning all this over. He’s probably learned how to spot a liar…

“I’m sorry, Rachel, I really am. If you’re looking for a contractor, I can recommend Abe Foley. He’s honest and he does a good job fast. That’s all I can do.”

Rachel nods. “Thank you,” she says meekly and, thoroughly defeated, exits his office.





8

Thursday, 9:38 a.m.



Hmmm, this one feels different.

There’s no evidence, of course, that it is any different. It shouldn’t be any different. They always say the same things, act the same way, and then fall right into line. Human beings are boringly predictable. That’s why the actuarial tables work so well.

And it’s just a feeling—that’s all. And she can shake this feeling and replace it with another. But she doesn’t want to do that today. She wants to sit with the bad feeling and experience it and have it explain to her why it’s here. If the feeling means anything at all, it’s almost certainly about the current person on The Chain.

Perhaps it would be wise to take a look at the present state of play. She opens up the encrypted file on her computer and examines the current protagonists. Everything looks fine. Link negative two is Hank Callaghan, a dentist and Sunday-school teacher from Nashua who has done everything requested of him. Link negative one is Heather Porter, a college administrator also from New Hampshire who has done all she has been asked to do. Link zero is Rachel O’Neill or, as she calls herself now, Rachel Klein. A former waitress and Uber driver who will soon be teaching at a community college.

Is Rachel the bad apple?

It doesn’t really matter if she is. As Olly is always saying, The Chain is largely a self-regulating mechanism that repairs its own broken DNA with only a little nudging from the outside.

“Don’t worry. It will all sort itself out,” her stepmother used to say. And she was right. It generally did all sort itself out. She was sorted out too in the end, of course.

No, Rachel won’t be any trouble. None of them will be or could be. Rachel will fall into line like all the others; either that, or she and her daughter will die. And die horribly, as an example for the others.