The result of that showdown had been a zero on the report from the teacher and a four-game suspension from basketball by the Judge, although he subsequently rescinded his punistiment after the coach pleaded that the team would suffer more from it than Frank. That confrontation, and its aftermath, said much of both father and son. The Judge, feeling he had made his point regarding dishonesty in any form, never again brought up the incident. For his part, Frank was, in fact, discouraged from further academic shortcuts, but only temporarily.
Instead of responding to their father's leniency with change, he reacted with defiance. And one boastful day, not long after, he disclosed to his younger brother that he had dedicated himself to learning how to win in an eyeball-to-eyeball showdown. At first, he literally practiced before a mirror. Next came a series of what he called "test fibs." With time, even in the most critical situations he was able impassively to meet the man's piercing gaze and to hold it. In the years that immediately followed, his conflicts with the Judge fell off markedly, due in part to Frank's mastery of his new craft, and in larger measure to his athletic accomplishments. Then, with Frank's repeated failures prior to Ultramed-Davis, their relationship again became strained. Now, after four years of relative concord, a clash between the two men-possibly a monumental one-seemed to be in the making. And as always in the past, at the very heart of the matter were the Judge's expectations. Frank's performance had to be the very best, his conduct above reproach. The foursome ahead of them finished putting and left the green. The Judge addressed his ball, but after several seconds he checked back down the fairway to ensure that no one was approaching, and stepped away.
"Zachary, you look troubled, " he said. "What is it?"
"I'm not troubled. It's just that "What?"
Zack shook his head. "It's nothing, Judge. Go ahead and hit."
"You're worried that I'm taking sides against Frank. Is that it? "
"He is your son."
"And you think that because of that, I should turn my back on the possibility that he might be involved in something unethical, or even dishonest."
"I didn't say that."
"What, then?"
Zack stopped himself at the last moment from sharing details of Guy Beaulieu's legacy, of his encounter with Maureen Banas, and of his mounting distrust of Ultramed. There were still simply too many uncertainties to open those cans of worms before he had had the chance to discuss them with Frank. "Judge, " he said, carefully choosing his words, "Guy Beaulieu was trying his damnedest to bring down Ultramed. If Frank fell with it, that was no concern of his.
I appreciate your commitment to doing what's right, but-"
"But what?"
Again, Zack hesitated. One slip, one misplaced thought, and the Judge would be off and running on another of his crusades. In Frank's eyes, the two of them would be aligned against him and Ultramed, and any chance of enlisting his help, either in exposing the corporation or in solving the mystery of Toby Nelms, would likely be lost for good.
"Judge, Frank has his quirks and his faults, " he said finally, "just like the rest of us. But considering the expectations and the pressures he's had to overcome since those days at Sterling High, I think he's done some things we should both be proud of. At the very least, we Should be going out of our way to give him the benefit of the doubt in' this business."
"So you think I'm being disloyal by wanting to know whether my son and the corporation he works for are making a profit at the expense Of my community?"
"I didn't say that."
"And you think it's disloyalty to question whether Frank might have had a role in the destruction of a man's reputation?"
"Judge, please."
"I'm sorry, Zachary, but I've spent more than thirty years as a lawyer, half of them as a judge. As far as I'm concerned, doing what is right is far more important than any of that kind of so-called loyalty."
"I'm not arguing with that. It's just that from what I can see, this whole business isn't all that simple. Did you know that if it weren't for Frank's using his influence at the hospital, Beaulieu would have been suspended some time ago?" The Judge looked shaken. "No, " he said.
"I didn't."
"Well, it's true." Of course, the story of Frank's intercession had come from Frank himself, but Zack saw no point in sharing that piece of information, or for that matter, his displeasure with Frank's behavior on the day of Beaulieu's death. He was enjoying the chance to play his brother's advocate. He also sensed that in arguing on Frank's behalf, he was, in some ways, making a case for their father's recognition of his own accomplishments in life. The Judge seemed surprised and upset by his stand. Again, he addressed his ball, although Zack could see from his stance and his bloodless knuckles that his concentration was broken. And suddenly Zack understood, his father had done something, or at least was contemplating doing something, that would not sit well with Frank, and now, all at once, he had doubts. His swing was rushed and awkward. The ball, never really leaving the ground, skimmed across the fairway and slammed into the recently vacated sand trap. Clayton Iverson barely reacted to the horrible shot. "You know, " he said as they trudged toward the bunker, "from the day your mother and I first learned she was pregnant with Frank, we began to share visions of greatness for our children. I don't suppose that makes us unique, but I tell you, son, we spent many an hour by the fire that winter sharing our dreams. We even named Frank, and then you, after presidents-little-known presidents, but ones who did leave their marks on history."
Inwardty, Zack sighed. This talk was one he had endured many times over the years. Franklin Pierce, the only president born in New Hampshire, and Zachary Taylor, the much-maligned warrior who, despite four historically undistinguished years in office, established the Department of the Interior, were special favorites of the Judge. "Betieve me, Judge, " Zack said, in what had become his standard response to the discussion, "both Frank and I appreciate the values and the drive you instilled in us."
He paused to chip his approach shot onto the edge of the green and then watched as his father, now totally off his game, took two shots to get out of the sand trap. By the end of the hole, Zack had cut his deficit to six dollars, and following two ties and a disastrous seven by the Judge on the thirteenth, he had pared it by three dollars more. "Judge, " he said, motioning to the small refreshment kiosk by the fourteenth tee, "let's take a break. Anything that could upset you enough to play like this ought to be talked out."
"I'm not upset, " Clayton Iverson said. "Okay, you're not upset. You only went from shooting four over par for the whole front nine, to shooting eight over for the first four holes since you brought up this business about the hospital. Why don't you have a seat at that little table over there and let me buy you a beer."
The Judge started to protest, but then relented. "Maybe I am a little upset, " he muttered. Zack left him at the wrought-iron table and returned with two frosted mugs and two bottles of Lowenbrau. "So, what's going on? " Zack asked as he sipped at his beer. "What do you mean?"
"I mean Frank, Judge. I know you helped him get considered for the job with Ultramed. Is that why you're being hard on him? Because you feel responsible?"
"Zachary, the mess your brother made of that damn electronics company of his wasn't his first fiasco. He just didn't have the patience for that kind of business. He was constantly trying to go directly from step one to step twenty. He was lucky the Ultramed opportunity came along when it did. I told him that when he-" Clayton Iverson stopped m mid-sentence.