Free The Last Collection by Seymour Blicker Page A

you $9,000.00 on good faith. You were supposed to pay me back in thirty days. Now it’s going on two months.”
    â€œYou said I could get an extension if I paid you the interest. I told you I’d pay it.”
    â€œI never said that!” Hankleman snarled.
    â€œYou did. I remember it very clearly. I can pay you the interest. I’ll give you a cheque now,” Kerner said.
    â€œI never said that. I just know one thing. I want what you owe me now. All of it.”
    â€œI can’t give it to you now. I’m really sorry. Please believe me. I’m in big trouble but I’m good for the money. I’ll pay you every cent I owe you. I promise you. You won’t lose on me.”
    â€œI won’t lose on you! No? No? I’ve already lost, my friend. What you did to me I’ll never make up.”
    â€œI’ll make it up, I promise.”
    â€œDon’t promise me nothing, you cheap piker. You made me look like shit. D’you understand?”
    â€œWhy do you say that?” Artie Kerner asked innocently.
    â€œWhy? Because the word is already out that on my first loan I got burned.”
    â€œI didn’t say a word to anybody. I don’t talk about my financial problems to anyone.”
    â€œLook. I paid my dues, Kerner. D’you understand? I don’t ever intend to go back. You heard you can’t go home again, eh?”
    Kerner nodded.
    â€œYou know that, eh?”
    Kerner nodded again.
    â€œSo I’m not going back again. I’m not going to allow you, my first mistake, to fuck everything up.”
    â€œI’m not going to fuck anything up. Believe me, I’ll be good for the money. I swear to you, by the end of the month you’ll have the whole bundle.”
    â€œYou just don’t understand,” Hankleman said. “Or maybe you just don’t want to understand.”
    â€œI understand, I understand . . .”
    â€œLook, just let me finish, okay?” Hankleman shouted, cutting Kerner off. “Don’t fucking patronize me. I don’t need it from anyone, least of all a piker like you.”
    â€œThere’s no need to insult me,” Kerner protested.
    â€œDon’t tell me who I can and who I can’t insult. If I want to insult you, boy, I’ll insult you. If you don’t want insults, pay up the money and you won’t get insults. Okay? So just shut up and listen,” Hankleman shouted, burning now with self-righteous anger. “I was saying that maybe you just don’t want to understand, because if you did, you would realize that I cannot function properly till you’re all paid up. My credibility is gone. You understand? Every mooch in town will be after a loan from me with the idea that they don’t have to pay it back. You’ve made me a philanthropic organization overnight. You understand what I mean?”
    â€œI understand what you’re saying but I don’t think I agree with you. I swear to you, I didn’t tell a soul.”
    â€œYou swear? You swear!” Hankleman rasped. “What good is your word? I have your lousy marker with your name on it. It’s not worth a piece of shit. And you swear,” Hankleman said scornfully.
    â€œLook, I . . .” Kerner began to protest again but Hankleman cut him off with a wave of his hand.
    â€œBut it’s not only that. It’s more than just the money. The money alone is enough but it’s more . . .” He paused for a moment as though to catch his breath.
    Kerner waited without saying a word.
    â€œIt’s also a matter of principle. Nobody is going to beat me, not even for a dime!” he said viciously and slammed a fist into his open palm. He walked up to Kerner’s desk and leaned over it. “Not for a fucking dime. You understand?” He stared hard into Kerner’s eyes, trying to see something there.
    â€œI’m not trying to beat you. I’m an honest man.