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| The Brain. |
Chapter Eleven
Jeff put a handful of quarters into a wash…
Jeff McCabe put a handful of quarters into a wash-job on the truck, which was brand-new last year. Having no real accomplishments in life, and no other interests, the red Ford four-wheel-drive vehicle was his pride and joy.
It was one of the world’s safest and most effective penis enlargers, that’s what Ted always figured. There were also another six years of payments.
Ted Hiltz sat inside waiting while the foamy spray obscured his view of the back wall of the bay, listening to the radio and doing some deep thinking. While not known for his intellectual capacity, Ted had an introspective streak. When the boys got to drinking and he came up with one of his pearls of wisdom, they would call him, Doc, or perfessor, or his personal favorite, the Brain.
There was one last spurt of rinse water. Jeff was hanging up the hose and giving the truck a critical inspection. While Ted appreciated the need to keep road salt off of it, in two days it would look just as dirty. Even if they didn’t go jacking for deer tonight, using a big spotlight, down muddy side-roads and clay-based logging roads, all over hell’s half-acre. Ted had to have a shit, and he wanted his coffee, as living with his mom and dad meant that he left without any breakfast at all most mornings. Otherwise he would have had to make it for them. Jeff clambered up and in.
“It’s just going to get dirty again.” Ted spoke in pure, brotherly mischief.
“Yeah, I know, I know. But my ride has to look good, you know?”
“Sure, Jeff.” Ted often agreed with Jeff, mostly for fun. “Otherwise how would the ladies know it’s you?”
“Ladies? Did you say ladies? You must know something I don’t.”
Ted grinned. Jeff lived with his girlfriend, a humongous cow of a woman.
She worked as an administrator at the local government building, pushing papers very, very slowly for the Workplace Safety and Insurance Board’s regional office. Once she got pretty drunk at a wedding reception. She described her job as, Denying as many people’s claims as she could, then encouraging them to avail themselves of the appeals process.
Ted believed it. Jenny made about seventy grand a year, and without her pay, Jeff wouldn’t have been able to buy the big four-level split in the Green Meadows housing development. The last time Ted visited them there, the place was a pigsty, with Jeff drinking beer and watching football, and the woman screaming at her four kids by a previous marriage. What some guys won’t do for a piece of ass, but he kept that thought to himself. What some guys won’t do for a place to live, more like. He kept that one to himself as well.
There was no question that the opinionated Jeff was the leader of their little crew. Ted liked to have a little input from time to time, in order to remain indispensable. Now was one of those times when he considered himself truly brilliant.
“I’ve been thinking.” This as Jeff eased the truck out into the mid-morning traffic of Queen Elizabeth Avenue.
“Oh, shit. Not you. That fuck-head in the Lincoln.”
He was busy for a moment stomping the brakes and narrowly avoiding rear-ending the other vehicle. Jeff always drove like a bat out of hell, and tended to forget that not everyone had four-by-fours. Also, he was apparently unaware that a big vehicle like this took some time to stop on a sheet of ice. Ted pulled his hands off the bracing position on the dashboard.
Jeff turned off onto Richard Street.
“They say that Frenchie guy has a half a million bucks. It’s buried somewhere out in the woods.”
McCabe gave his partner a quick and furtive look.
“So?”
“So. Just let me think on it for a while.” Hiltz adopted a superior air. “Anyway, it’s your turn to buy, so don’t ask to borrow any money today.”
“A half a million bucks? Buried out in the woods? How the hell do you figure that?”
“Because the money was never recovered, is why. He robbed a bank.”
“What’s he doing around here then?”
“You catch on fast.” Hiltz giggled, much to Jeff’s irritation. “What’s he doing around here? Why isn’t he going after this accomplice he’s supposed to have? And where is all that money?”
He sat back with eyebrows arched in satisfaction at his logic and reasoning ability.
“Tell me more.” Jeff thought.
What was Teddy saying?
“I will when I can. But what if they buried it and then this fucker shot his buddy and threw him in the hole?” Ted was thinking out loud. “Yes, that could have been it.”
“Ted, are you saying he’s a murderer?”
“Wouldn’t you? For a whole half-million?”
“Well, jeez…I just don’t know.” His buddy made the confession with a happy smile. “We’ve been friends a long time.”
They both laughed long and hard at that one, looking briefly into each other’s eyes and acknowledging the humor in it. That thought kept going through their minds.
“A half a million…”
They had known each other for a long time. They felt an affinity for each other. They were brothers in arms, of a sort. The die was cast, Ted figured, as yet there was no telling where it would turn.
Since Ted had to crap, Jeff let him out, and then got into the back end of the drive-through line-up. The thought of all that money kept going through his mind. With his share, he could go south, and live like a king for a while. Jeff had always fancied himself a gambler. While he had tried out various systems over the years, he had always lost out. Just when he had built up a pretty good wad of cash, the luck had always turned against him, and he lost all of it, and as often as not walked away from the game with a marker and a big, short-term debt. He figured his initial stake hadn’t been high enough to ride out the ups and downs. As he pulled up to the window, he saw Ted moving through the store to come out the front door.
“Thank you.” He eyed the twenty-year old honey who served him.
Uncharacteristically for Jeff, he tipped her a buck. He was humming a little tune in concert with the music coming out of the radio speakers, twelve speakers in quadraphonic surround sound. At the time, he had considered it an investment in the resale value, when he went to sell it and it was a status symbol as well.
It was just another kind of big game.
“It sure beats bear gall bladders and cougar paws.”
The only major drawback that he could see was that he wouldn’t be able to mount that Frenchie guy’s head on the wall of his recreation room along with his other trophies. He almost slapped himself in the head in frustrated ambition. What if the guy simply moved on? How would they find him?
Ted climbed in and slammed the door…as always.
Teddy had an answer for that, too. His brother-in-law had orders to keep an eye out for him. The word was, Frenchie was still in town. Every cop in town was gunning for the guy. Interesting. The more Jeff thought about it, the better the idea seemed. All they really had to do, was to catch Frenchie at the point where he went to pick up the money. Out in the woods, anything might happen.
Perhaps even an unfortunate hunting accident. What if Frenchie came out of the woods with a big bag on his shoulder? Jeff could almost feel the warm sand between his toes and the gentle sea breezes on his cheek. He was convinced he could do it.
Jeff spent some time thinking about where he would go. Barbados? How about Belize? Wow. What if they could really make it happen?
What would it be like to spend the rest of my life in Mexico, somewhere warm? He once heard you could get a bottle of rum for two bucks in Jamaica, and a good-looking housekeeper for ten bucks a week.
Maybe Teddy wasn’t so dumb after all.
END
Images. Louis.
Louis has a few books and stories, including this audiobook on Audible.
Thank you for reading.
