It was four a.m. and Zander Kaufmann was wide awake. A fly buzzed against the bulb in his bedside lamp, repeatedly beating itself against its light and droning in complaint as it scorched itself. Zander turned towards his wife, who murmured at his movement.
‘A man can’t get comfortable in this heat. I should rise and turn the air con up a notch.’ His bed was too cosy though and he continued to lie there, jealous of his wife’s deep sleep.
Five minutes passed. Slow time. After today he wasn’t certain how many more nights he’d be allowed on this bed, in this room, in this house, before the bank took it all away. After today he was near penniless, and therefore a hairs breath from being made homeless. His wife, bless her, was oblivious to their plight. He hadn’t yet worked up the courage to tell her.
Discomfited, he twisted back towards the light. ‘Goddamn it!’ he hissed. He didn’t feel so good. Everywhere his body prickled and, to his chagrin, he was short of breath. His mouth tasted coppery too, like there was blood in his saliva. ‘Damn it!’ This wasn’t the time to fall ill. Not with his business falling apart around him.
He propped a pillow against his headboard, punched the cushion to fluff it up and leaned back before lifting his copy of Erica Barnes’s latest book from where it sat under the lamp. Money Matters it was called and its spine was creased in many places, its paperback cover cracked. One crease had demolished Erica’s face as she peered out from above the book’s title and the book’s top right-hand corner had deep creased across it.
Zander loved this book. He flicked through its pages to pause at the chapter headings. Making Money While You Sleep, Money for Nothing and Money Magnet. He’d annotated each chapter by scrawling notes along the margins. Day-Glo highlighter ink lit up the text. What sort of fool would trust anything written by a woman like this? he thought. Another part of his brain responded rapidly, Me. The inner voice continued to berate him. Everything you did in business was modelled upon her recommendations. What a bloody fool a man can be. How blind to someone’s true nature.
He gave up on sleep and tossed the book to the floor. He swung his naked body out of bed and fought a surge of nausea, clutching the headboard for support. It took a few moments for the sensation to pass. ‘Perhaps a drive will clear this man’s head,’ he said, his voice low, and he was shocked by the way the words came from his mouth in a rasp. ‘Yes, best go out and get some air. That will halt this goddamn cold in its tracks.’
It wasn’t long before he was at his taxi office, which was quiet except for the night receptionist. Thankfully, all the drivers on that shift were out on jobs. The company operated a smaller service at that time of day and a couple of taxis were parked in the lot. It had been a long time since Zander had driven one, but once behind the wheel the thrill of it came back to him. ‘Ah… me and the car and the early morning.’ It was nice to have the space. ‘Quiet roads and time to consider.’ He travelled for miles without taking a fare until, on a whim, he entered the taxi rank at the Port Authority bus station. There, he switched on his light and waited with the other drivers.
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