The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [76]
“What makes you say that?” Ben asked.
“I just saw what Scrooge here tipped him,” Lisa said, pointing at Ober.
“How much did you tip him?” Nathan asked, watching to make sure that his bags were loaded on the conveyor.
“I gave him a dollar,” Ober said.
“You gave him one dollar for five bags?” Ben asked.
“Good-bye, suitcase, it was nice knowing you!” Lisa called to her luggage.
“What’s wrong with a dollar?” Eric asked.
“For one bag, nothing,” Ben said. “But if you have five bags for five different people, a dollar tip says, ‘Throw these bags in a volcano. I have no use for them.’”
“Just relax,” Eric said as the group walked inside the terminal. Turning to Ober, he added, “Nothing’ll happen. You’ll see.”
With only two days until Thanksgiving, National Airport was swarming with people. Fighting the irate crowds, the friends made their way through the X-ray machine and toward their gate.
Ober scanned the row of shops and eateries that lined the terminal. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he took off in a mad dash.
“Lottery tickets,” Ben said to Lisa.
As the remainder of the group arrived at the boarding gate, they waited at the back of a single, weaving line. Eventually, Ober returned, red-faced and breathing heavily. “Let me guess,” Ben said. “You won.”
“First I bought one ticket and I lost,” Ober explained. “Then I bought another ticket and I lost. Then, I bought a third ticket—”
“And you lost,” Nathan said.
“…and I lost,” Ober repeated. “But then, I bought the fourth magical, wonderful ticket…”
“And you won.”
“…AND I WON!” Ober screamed as everyone in line turned around. “I WON TWENTY BUCKS RIGHT THERE!”
“He has a small chemical imbalance,” Ben explained to the onlookers. “With a little medication, he’ll be fine.”
“You won twenty bucks?” Nathan asked. “What’d you buy us?”
“I didn’t buy you squat,” Ober said. “If you want to make fun of the lottery, you will not reap its rewards.”
“You won twenty bucks and you didn’t buy your friends anything?” Ben asked. “I’m starving here.”
“Me, too,” Eric said. “I’m going to grab a slice of pizza. Does anyone want anything?”
“I’ll take a slice,” Ober said.
“Make it two,” Nathan said.
“Make it three,” Lisa said.
“Ben, do you want a slice?” Eric asked.
“No,” Ben said, looking away. “Thanks.”
When Eric stepped away from the line, Ober tapped Ben on the shoulder. “Don’t be such a hard-ass. He’s trying his best to make up.”
“Too bad,” Ben said. “I’m not ready to make up right now.”
“Just be nice,” Nathan begged. “Even if it’s only for the weekend.”
“Don’t worry,” Ben said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Are you nervous yet?” Ben asked, when the plane landed in Boston.
“A little,” Lisa said, wiping her palms on her jeans.
“You should be,” Ober said. “Because Sheila Addison is about to eat you alive.”
“Did you bring the garlic and the wooden stake?” Nathan asked.
“If you ever feel like there’s a lull in the conversation, just look her straight in the eye and say, ‘Are you my mommy?’ You can always use that in a pinch,” Ben said.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Lisa said.
Shaking his head, Ben said, “Just remember—you wanted to come here. I tried to persuade you to stay home. Therefore, all blood is on your hands.”
“I think I’ll be able to handle it,” Lisa said.
When the plane reached the gate, the narrow aisle filled with people. Ben got up from his seat, but was unable to stand upright in his row. Cocking his head to the right, he crossed his arms and waited impatiently. Directly behind him, Eric was stuck in the same position. “Don’t you just love this?” Eric asked, forcing a laugh.
“Actually, I hate it,” Ben said.
“Listen, can we just pretend it didn’t happen?” Eric asked. “It’ll make for a nicer weekend.”
“No, Eric, we can’t pretend it didn’t happen.” Ben scowled. “No matter how much you want to make it go away, it’s going to be with us for a long while.”
“Why? Why can’t we just start over? I’m sorry already. I’m sorry it happened.”
“You make it sound as if it happened by itself,” Ben said. “But in case you didn’t realize, you’re the one responsible.