Lawn Boy(46)

Truman had never tipped me, that’s for sure. Or the old lady. Or Lacy, for that matter. Even as I thanked Goble, I was a little incredulous.

“Why are you doing all this for me?”

“I needed a landscaper.”

“No, really.”

“Really, I’m just building my network, Mike. Like the man said, a man’s net worth is only as good as his network.”

He was right, of course. Just look at my network: a bass player, a tire technician, and likely a convicted felon in Chaz. No wonder I was penniless.

“Remember how I told you about infiltrating communities? About being there?”

“Yeah. Attendance is gold.”

“Actually, it’s only part of the equation, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you at the time. The way you build an ironclad network is by doing favors for people. Especially if it helps you. Case in point, hiring you: I get a bunch of landscaping done, and you owe me a favor.”

Oh God, here it was. And what could I say? The guy was paying me twenty bucks an hour. He got my car towed out of a ditch. He bought me coffee and now beer. Plus he gave me a hundred bucks. I’m no dummy. Now I had to touch his dick.

“I get it,” I said.

“Do you?”

“This is where I gotta do you a favor.”

“No, that’s the catch. I never call in my favors. Not unless I absolutely have to.”

My shoulders slackened immediately.

“But here’s the other catch,” Goble said, leaning in closer. “Say, I wanna do somebody else a favor, but I can’t really perform that particular favor. Like, say my girlfriend needs a new muffler.”

“You have a girlfriend?”

“No. But say she needs a new muffler. Better yet, say she needs a mental-health professional or a veterinary surgeon. Well, obviously I’m not gonna operate on her dog’s colon. But I know a guy. Are you following me here?”

“Yeah,” I lied.

“And this guy, this veterinary surgeon, I’ve done him a favor, too, see, a couple of favors? I helped him refi, I structured his escrow conveniently, moved some numbers around, and I didn’t charge him for any of it. No closing costs. So he owes me one.”

He took a long draw on his beer and held up his finger to let me know he wasn’t finished yet.

“But here’s the next catch: I’m not really asking for a favor, not for myself, so it doesn’t really count as a favor. I mean, you and I know it does, but it doesn’t, not in the guy’s mind. It’s not my colon. It’s just me doing this girl and her dog a favor, like I once did him a favor on the closing costs. I’m the guy that does favors for everybody. You still following me?”

“Yeah, I think.”

As close as I could figure, this meant that one day Goble was gonna call me and ask me to do a guy a favor—and I’d still owe him one. This was not shaping up well for me.

“So,” he says. “Now I’m one favor ahead in the ledger: I got my girlfriend’s dog’s colon operated on practically pro bono (except for the anesthesia—they gotta account for that stuff), the guy still owes me a favor (which I’ll never call in, because I only call in favors for other people), and I come out smelling like roses. Hell, if the dog could do anything for me, I’d be up two favors in the ledger. But what’s a dog gonna do, lick peanut butter off my dick?”

He took another pull of his beer and patted his lips dry with a napkin. “Sounds sort of sinister in a way,” he said. “But the best part of the whole arrangement? Yep, everybody wins.”

“What about the guy doing all the free colon operations. How does he win?”

“He already won. With the refi and the escrow. Plus I helped him find his dream house. And I listed his sister’s place.”

“Will he ever win again? Does he ever get any credit for the colon operations?”

“Oh, I’ll do him another favor down the line. He won’t even have to ask. I’ll just wait until it’s convenient for me to do it, and it probably won’t be a direct favor. It’ll probably be a favor somebody offers me as payback for one of my favors, but then I’ll just offer the favor to him. Like a pair of tickets to Jersey Boys or something.”

“But wait. Doesn’t that mean that your indirect favors are worth direct favors, but their indirect favors aren’t worth anything?”

“Not bad, Mike. You’re catching on.”

“What if they ask you for a direct favor? Do you do it?”

“If it’s convenient, sure.”

“What if it’s inconvenient?”

“Depends how much you can do for me. Can you help me stash some major assets offshore, or are you just mowing some lawns for me? No offense. I mean, I’m paying you, right?”

“You’re paying me well,” I said.

He sighed. “Not really, Mike. I’m paying you a few bucks over minimum wage.”

“So give me a raise.”

“Not gonna happen. I only pay what the market can bear—and that’s maximum. My last guy was Mexican. I was paying him ten.”

“So why pay me twenty?”

“I know, right? I guess because I like you.”

“No, really, why?”