What’ja end up doing with your share?”

“I invested in a toy company. They made action figures, and I tripled my money in two years.”

“So that was it. Dang, Jane. You always were the smart one about stuff like that. I guess that’s why we were such a good crew. Russ did the gadgets, Miguel cased the joint outside and in, Snow had the science angle down, Bee was the pretty one who the guys just fell over all the time to say ‘yes’ to, and you were the leader that everyone followed. But you know, you never hadda act like a comic-book bad guy. You were just always right, and we never hadda worry unless the capes showed up.”

“You think so, Jake? Me, the leader?”

“Jane, to hell and back. We’d’a followed you there all the way. No plan you ever made ever went to shit, unless the capes showed up. And even then, half the time we handed them their asses, no matter what they tried to say in the comic books. Like the time poor Mitch the Snowman froze The One and freaked out ‘cause he thought he’d killed the big green boy scout.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling, “That was a good day. So,” she shifted gears, looking at me again, “Would you follow me again, Jake?”

…And there it was. I knew it was coming. One of the first things you learn in this business is to never, ever look too eager. I leaned back in my wheelchair and pretended to think a bit.

“Well, if you mean a job, Jane? See, thats kinda tough. You know, Jane, I’ve got a nice thing going here. The place ain’t rich, the pay ain’t great, but it’s steady and the people are good to me an’ each other. It’s more like a family than my own family ever was. Least when someone dies here, I get to go to their funeral.”

“We were a family, Jake.”

“A long, long time ago, Jane. Back when we were in, what, our twenties? Mitch was in his teens?”

“You remember the First National job? The Barnum Circus job? Making the Airman punch through what he thought was a hot-air balloon, but it was a giant . . .”

“The shit bomb! Oh, dang, honey, I’d nearly forgotten that one! That was amazing! Hell yeah! You can bet that never made it into the comic books!”

She had me laughing again, like I hadn’t laughed since I couldn’t remember when. Back when we were younger, and it was all most of us could do to not try and cop a feel on her. We didn’t bother- something about her let us know that it wouldn’t ever be a good idea, and we had Queen Bee to satisfy those urges; the kind that frustrated young men have to try and hit on someone so far out of our league we might as well have been monkeys trying to touch the face of the moon.

“So, Jane, honey, let’s get to it. Why’d you look me up? Been a long while, and I bet you didn’t try to find me just to catch up on old times.”

“Fine, Jacob. Fair enough. You say your life’s good? How’d you like it better? How’d you like having the kind of life where you don’t have to do cold reads on college kids for dollar bills like some mindfucking version of a stripper?”

“You’re swearing, Jane?”

“Cowboys- real cowboys do that on occasion, Jake. Cowgirls too. Seriously, you wanna die here? Who’ll pay for your funeral? Where are they gonna bury you? You really a family here? I understand most gypsy types settle down by the time they’re your age. Wife, kids, house, instead of moseying around the country.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“True. But I haven’t been part of that life since we teamed up. Tried to get back into it, but it didn’t happen. I never really fit in to begin with. I didn’t much like being a nomad. Still don’t really.

“Then I’ve got a job for you. One that could set us up for good. Every one of us. And other bonuses besides. What put you in the wheelchair, Jake? You’re pushing seventy, but you’ve made yourself look a good twenty older’n that, what with the wheelchair and all.

“This life does that to you, Jane. The hands on the clock spin forward twice as fast when you travel for a living.”

“How’d you like to turn that clock back a few spins?” she said, putting a small plastic vial, about the size of a film canister on the table.

I picked it up and looked at it, then at her. I could have probably messed with her head a bit, made her tell me more than she wanted to, despite the walls she had up. But this was more fun. I opened it up and there were what looked like little blue diamond chips inside. I tried hard to keep my eyes on it and not on Jane’s bust which had suddenly started to look very, very promising. I pulled my face into a mask of mild disdain. “This looks like the rock candy that Iggy sells next to the three pitch. Stuff rots your teeth faster’n a freight train on a greased track.”

“This candy’s different, Jake. It puts the teeth back in your head. You wonder how I look this way? You think it’s all jogging and fifty push-ups a day? I got most of my hearing back that I lost from being around guns going off all the time, and I hardly need to wear my bifocals anymore.”

I tried really, really hard not to lose my cool and look eager. If your mark senses you’re eager to get their money, it’s all over. Every time.

But who was the mark here? Jane or me?

“Well, I’m not gonna turn down an offer like that right away. But have you been watching that new version of The Twilight Zone recently? Some lady got ahold of the fountain of youth’s water. Only she hadda buy it, every day. And the price kept going up. In the end, she looked older than when she started.”

“Try this, Jake. This one’s free to get you started. It’ll turn things back, and keep ‘em back for a few weeks. You pull this last job with me, you’ll be set for life, any life you want, and you’ll go back a good twenty, maybe thirty years and stay there. No more doses. No dealer showing up from under a rock with mirror sunglasses and a slick haircut. Just you, your money, and a reset clock. Whaddya say? Icarus is already in, and I’m going to get the Snowman next.”

I smile. For once, I feel the old, prickly excitement I used to get at the base of my spine when I knew we were gonna move on a job.

“Okay, I’m in,” I said. “But let me talk to Snow. I know where he’s at, and frankly my guess is you an’ him ain’t exactly good yet, Jane.”

She paused for a second. She wasn’t expecting that one. Good. I gotta keep her off balance if I wanna make sure I don’t get run over at the end of this.

“What?” she says, “did he go queer or something?”

“Nope,” I says, “he’s straight. Not just like that, more like as in he found Jesus and he’s a highschool teacher. You talk good to a carny like me or someone desperate, like the Moth who wants out of the old age home. Getting something out’ve someone who really likes their life? That’s my department.”

Jane smiles, leans back and tips her coke into her mouth, reminding me of a persistent fantasy I had about her back when we were stupid kids living in a subway train. “Fine,” she said, “How’s about you talk to Mitch. Saves me a trip to Portland. Never much liked rain ennaways.”

#

MITCH

The alarm went off and I looked all bleary -eyed at the red digital numbers in the dark. My wife could sleep through a herd of caffeinated elephants charging through the bedroom with noisemakers, but I’m a pretty light sleeper. Especially on Mondays.

TO BE CONTINUED...