Caught Stealing - Charlie Huston [36]
—One back with two to go; stick a fork in you, pal, you’re done.
I wave my middle finger at him and walk out the door.
I’m at the Love Stores at 14th and Third. The bandage Dr. Bob stuck on my side got rubbed half off during my ride in Ed and Paris’s trunk and I want to fix it. I grab a basket from the pile next to the door and head down the first aisle. I get a bunch of gauze pads, some surgical tape, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, Band-Aids, and some Advil. I take everything up to the counter and ask the girl there for a carton of Marlboro Light 100s. I figure I’ll get Lisa a little going-away present. The girl is ringing it all up and putting it into a bag and I’m just kind of letting my gaze drift around when I catch a bright flash of color through the window behind the counter and I just say it:
—Shit.
—What?
—Nothing, sorry. How much?
—Fifty-nine forty-nine, and you best watch your language in here.
—Sorry, I just remembered I forgot something.
—Fine, forget all you like, just watch your language.
—Sure. Look, I know this sounds fucked up.
—I said, watch your language.
—Right, sorry.
—Yeah, you’re sorry. Now that’s fifty-nine forty-nine.
I take three twenties and a hundred from my pocket and spread them on the counter.
—What I’m trying to ask, I know this is weird, but is there a back way out of this place, and can I use it?
I push the C-note toward her and look at it significantly. She looks at the bill and back at me.
—No, there ain’t no back door to this place and you couldn’t use it if we had it and can’t you read?
She gestures to a sign taped to the cash register.
Due to a recent wave of counterfeiting, we cannot accept bills over $20.00.
—That’s fifty-nine dollars and forty-nine cents. Please.
I take the hundred off the counter and slide her the three twenties and she passes me my change.
—Fifty-one cents. And next time, watch your language.
I’m at a loss for words, so I just take my money and watch my language. Besides, I’m busy looking out the window behind her to see if I can catch another glimpse of Red on the sidewalk across the street.
I am not a rocket scientist. And yet this does not explain why I didn’t realize that someone was bound to have Paul’s staked out. Then again, in my own defense, I’ve never really done this before and I’m playing with professionals. Although whoever it was that sent Red to spy on me could stand to brush up on the basics of subtlety. I can see him out there, same red hair, same flashy clothes, except the pants are now bright blue polyester and the shirt is gold. He’s also wearing an enormous pair of yellow-tinted goggles. So at this point I’m not overly concerned about losing sight of him.
—Hey, foulmouth, you mind making room for customers ain’t gotta swear to express themselves?
I’m still standing at the counter and the girl is staring at me and pointing to the older woman behind me patiently waiting her turn.
—Sorry.
—Man, you just full of sorrys. Now get out the way.
I shuffle a few steps to the right. I don’t really have any options. I’ll just go out the door and try to lose him on the street. I start out the door and the security guard steps in front of me and puts a hand in my chest.
—Sir.
—Yes?
—Sir, may I see the bill you had at the counter?
—The bill?
—The hundred you had at the counter?
—You must. Look, it’s not. I’m not passing bad paper.
—May I see the bill, please.
I’m not scared. I mean, really, a drugstore security guard just doesn’t have much leverage with me today. But I want to get moving, so I pull out the hundred and hand it to him. He takes it, holds it up to the light, gives it a long look, then looks back at me.
—OK.
He tucks the bill into the breast pocket of his little security blazer and takes hold of my arm.
—What the fuck?
I jerk my arm back, but he’s got a pretty good grip on it and pulls me in close.
—Fuckin’ take it easy, man, and just come