drivers’ licenses. The network flies Connie/Conrad to (where else?) Atlanta,
then puts him into temporary quarters in nearby Chamblee, or ‘‘Cham-
bodia.’’ Most of his housemates—Vietnamese rather than Cambodians—
work at a nearby chicken plant, but Connie’s handler advises him not to
work there. (Good advice.) Instead he finds a job with an agency that sup-
plies helpers to elderly people still living at home who require assistance
with maintenance, cleaning, or shopping. Connie, a man both handy and
kind, becomes the most successful and popular employee. Thus came Epic-
tetus at last to Buckhead, of all places.
By this time Charlie Croker is morbidly depressed—bankers and their
lawyers are hounding him—and literally pained. His gimpy old football
knee requires surgery. Charlie uses the painful recovery from knee replace-
ment to retreat into self-pity. He will not talk or take messages, and worse,
he will not walk, preferring atrophied muscles and ligaments to more pain.
His wife has called Connie’s agency, and Conrad arrives—polite and atten-
tive, his new copy of the Stoics (the old was lost in the earthquake) in hand
for idle moments. Of course the bored Charlie wonders what occupies the
young man and persuades Conrad to read aloud a sample. Charlie will soon
understand that he needs Epictetus. For he is anguished over other things,
too—there are more subplots in this doorstop—particularly an offer to gain
miraculous relief from his enormous debt (and avoidance of the loss of all
his stuff), but in return for a public sacrifice of his honor, in this case the
betrayal of his word to a friend. Charlie asks the loan of Conrad’s book and,
for perhaps the first time in his life, is engrossed in reading. He drives (his
plane now gone, recall) down to Turpmtine with his wife, baby, Conrad, and
Epictetus to study and gain the resolve to initiate settlement of his own fate.
Later—in time and in Wolfe’s engrossing epilogue—it is Wes Jordan,
mayor of Atlanta, who explains Charlie’s reincarnation to us and to his
amazed fraternity brother, Roger Too White. Instead of betraying his word
to a friend, Charlie had appeared at a televised press conference and an-
nounced the abandonment of all his property—‘‘The keys are on the table!’’
He declared himself a servant of ‘‘the Manager’’ and, furthermore, affirmed
that ‘‘it’s better to be a tranquil beggar by the side of the road than a per-
turbed plutocrat in Buckhead.’’ ‘‘I mean,’’ Wes declares, ‘‘he walked away
from a corporation worthhundreds of millions. Of course, his debts were
even greater...butstill, it was unbelievable. Now he’s an evangelist.’’ Roger
is incredulous: ‘‘What in God’s name is he preaching?’’ ‘‘Nothing inGod’s
name,’’ Wes answers. Charlie had gone back to Baker County (with young
wife and daughter) and begun teaching the crackers about Zeus and Epic-