Stolen Me - K. Michael Washington (primary phonics TXT) 📗

not wanting to waste time. Dressed for the lovely steak dinner I had on the way over, except for my skin, I blended in well with the gentlemen. Still ten feet away from Nicky and he eyes me. His smile relieved me of all my anxiety. Already buzzed and yucking it up I was received well by my old associate.

With the help of the table, Nicky pulled his now large frame up to its feet and received me with open arms. It was like being hugged by a bear. He growled too. “How ya doin kid?” Before I could reply he was introducing me. “Guy’s! I want you all to meet…”

“Jeff Searcy!” I interrupted to keep my secret. Nicky almost seamlessly went along with it, but I could see a little disappointment in his face as his smile fell just a little. He must have still been telling that story. All of them were Nicky’s age or older. Whenever the one who clearly was the eldest spoke the others would immediately stop talking and start listening. His scratchy voice still slightly held the accent of his native Italy although it was long since mixed with mid-western slang.

“Your name is comparable to that of a great fighter. He demolished every foe in his path. So quickly in fact, the so-called experts doubted him game. But when I was just a boy my father took me to see him. He was already way past his prime. He fought three that day. Although he didn’t best the lot of them… he never quit and wanted more when it was over!” He smiled, trying to hold back his laughter that inevitably led to coughing. “I hope that more than just your names are familiar.” Then almost as if they had rehearsed it, the men all stood up, the biggest of them helping the oldest to his feet. Still coughing he patted my arm as they collectively said their goodnights. Then Nicky and I were alone. We sat back down without words for each other. The stares of admiration said enough. My reputation, especially with him preceded me. My feelings came from the fact that I knew I had come to the right place.

After a short rendition of “how he should have listened to me” and some other bullshit about his honest life with wife and kid as a local business owner, I changed the subject. Slightly disappointed that there wasn’t more to the story that made me over a hundred thousand dollars and figuring that he knew where I had been, I just made it clear to him that I planned to make a living of it, quickly. “If you need anything from me, call this number.” I said sliding him a card I had written the house phone number on.

“You should go see Nicky.”

“That’s what I thought I was doing.”

“He’s the spitting image of the Nicky you once knew my old friend. He’s a damn handsome kid. You should see him. He takes care of my car wash over in Pagedale. It’s across the street from the fried chicken joint. Stop in for a bite, I own that too. And I always appreciate the patronage.”

Then I told Nicky about my son. Asked if he knew anything about my sister in-law. I stopped short of asking for his help. I wanted to work through Nicky, not be in his debt. After another scotch and a hug I found myself standing on the street corner outside of Tony’s feeling a lot like I did standing outside of the prison walls, not the last time, but how I felt on my way in.

The next day I made my way to Pagedale. Passing on the chicken I pulled into Speedy Wash. A self service and automatic car wash combo whose freshly painted walls made it standout in this aged section of the city. Figuring I was expected, but wanting to know the score. I pulled into the stall closest to the building posing as an office and separating the automatic wash from the self serve. I made my way to the change machine on the outside of the office trying my best to get a peak inside through the glass door. With the bright afternoon sun at my back, the glare made it impossible to see inside. I fished a five-dollar bill from my pocket making sure to crumble it unrecognizable to the change machine in the process. After a few intentional rejections from the coin machine, I went inside. A girl who at least looked the role of receptionist sat behind a counter flipping through a magazine. She either hadn’t noticed me or didn’t care too. I took account of the marked up car products covering two shelves that sat on either side of the counter. I started towards her to ask for change when a side door opened.

“Come on back here.”

Even with his head shaved, there was no mistaking who was talking to me. I had to refocus to keep from laughing and blowing my cover. I took his invitation. The door swung closed behind me. A simple wooden desk and two chairs on either side furnished the office. He hadn’t been the boss for long. A couple boxes lay overflowing with office junk in a corner next to an outdated computer. Nicky Junior took a seat behind his desk and offered me the opposite. I took his invitation again, but I couldn’t help but wonder how he figured out who I was. Was I slipping? No, that isn’t possible.

“I’m sitting with a legend, wow. Let’s get down to business.” He said clapping then rubbing his hands together as if we were undertaking a huge project.

Hearing the Midwestern accent come out of Nicky’s mouth was strange because he looked so much like his father who’s voice screamed New Jersey. I threw another bluff. Looking him square in the eye, matching his seriousness and sliding the wrinkled five across his desk I opened negotiations. “Change please.”

I could actually hear the shame in his voice. “Sorry.” He said. “The legend shit is a little heavy, I was told about you Mr. Searcy.” Using that name let me know that his father had put him all the way in. Now that the terms were stated, I stopped playing coy and he stopped his corny attempt at being polite.

“How did you know it was me?”

“Simple.” He pulls a remote control out of his desk and hits a button. A panel on one of the sidewalls opens revealing five security monitors and a regular television, which played the unedited gore of Hamburger Hill.

“I get that you saw me, but how did you know it was me? Not even your cameras could have got a good look at my face.”

“That’s just it, I didn’t see you. When I asked pop how I would know it was you, he said I wouldn’t. So I asked what you looked like. He said nobody. Not that you didn’t look like anybody, but that you looked like nobody. From the time you pulled onto the lot I’ve been watching you like everybody else that has come in here today. I never even got a look at your hands. You stood at funny angles to the cameras, kept your back and side to them, always hiding your hands and face. When ever you stopped walking, you never stopped moving up and down, heel to toe, slightly bending and unbending at the knee. You never even stood flat-footed. The best cop couldn’t guess your height from my security footage. And to top it all off, your clothes fit you, like your trying to play off a pregnancy. You look like nobody.”

“And you look just like you father used to. I also see he’s taught you some things.”

“He taught me some, I figured some too.”

“But he has the hair.”

“My mother’s people were from the south.”

I enjoyed talking to Junior. It made me think of my son and what he could have been. What I could show him. Just like all my thoughts, even the nostalgia of my son went one hundred eighty degrees and landed on making a score. Our conversation followed suite.

“Nicky, your father wanted a favor from me.” He reached down into a desk drawer, handed me a large envelope that was sealed shut and I was on my way. Driving home with that envelope on my passenger seat felt like having a bomb riding with me. As I made my way back I mentally retraced my steps looking for leaks. Wondering from which way the heat would come. The heat always comes.

SON

We would have never known it was him. He emerges from the only other car in sight, a beat up blue Ford Contour. I couldn’t tell if he was impressed, amazed, or disappointed. He jumps out of the considerable downgrade of vehicle, simultaneously waving at us to follow and making a phone call. We get out, Nicky hands some fresh off the boat looking Italian guy the keys and it was done. Then, not in the same voice, but the same tone Aaron used when he was proud of my grades, Freeman tells Nicky. “You done good boy.”

Nicky replies. “I told you I’d make it.”

I was invisible, lost in a haze. My father climbs in back in his getaway car, throws a package out the window to Nicky and before speeding off he says. “Tell your dad I’ll come see him tomorrow.”

“What the fuck was that!” I cry out.

Nicky seemed to have really forgot I was there. Startled he yells back. “It’s our money! What the fuck!”

“Him leaving like that, why’d he just leave?” I was a little boy again and Nicky didn’t understand. I almost wished he had. It may have been nice to tell someone.

“Marcus man, it’s cool. We’ll get a cab. Let’s go home.”

Once I got home and counted my share. I tried to forget about Freeman and started thinking about partying. Or maybe I started thinking about partying to stop thinking about Freeman. Either way, I had thirty seven thousand five hundred dollars. The sun was coming up, but with that kind of money the night was always young. I just sat on my couch marveling at it, on an imaginary spending spree. The sunlight peeked through the blinds. It made the money look dirty. Just then, Amber stumbles in the door as pale as and with the eyes of a Zombie. The way she always does at the end of an all night coke binge. She closes the door behind her leaning on it as she locks it. All the while, she moved very slowly to quell the nausea. She finally sees me, and knowing that I trust her to come and go as she pleases, which really means I just don’t give a fuck. She smiles and tries to talk. At the same time she eyes the money and it’s all too much for her to take. Thankfully, she covers her mouth and turns. Vomit sprays between her fingers finding a place on our wall. I was glad Faith was being raised by the babysitter, because she would have been just as stained as our wall if she knew what her mother and I were doing. Maybe some people aren’t fit to be parents. Maybe Freeman wasn’t. I almost let go of my contempt for my parents as I cleaned up Amber and her vomit. Before I could get her back to the bed she was gone. Crashed out so hard someone could easily have his way with her. One day she might not make it home in time. After seeing the end result of a great party, I couldn’t think about partying with my cash anymore. Even though I’ve seen her like this before, this time it made me realize that I either had to start caring about this girl or get out of her life. She was killing herself and she deserves someone that cared enough to tell her, or at least someone who is willing to die with her.

FATHER

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