Chapter 35

We had discussed the next move for the screen play over breakfast, Joan had decided she wanted to write the play in her office. That being the case she wanted to drive home. Since the move was possible now that we had two cars and she would be safer at home, I agreed. I even decided to skip the shopping in Georgia for shopping and doing laundry at home. The drive would also give me time to test the FBI car.

The real Dodge pickup truck was a pleasure to drive. It only had 40k miles on it, though it was eight years old. My guess was that it had been a confiscated vehicle under the proceeds of a criminal enterprise. I didn’t mind driving something used to transport dead bodies or dope. I did worry about being searched by K9 units. Which would definitely blow my cover.

Regardless, we decided to part company for the drive home. It took me till mid afternoon to make it back to the Car Wash. The plan was to spend the three day weekend doing laundry and taking Thia and Jon to dinner and maybe a movie.

I carried Thia, Jon, Mica and her daughter to dinner, but not at the same time. I did go shopping for more spare clothes to carry back to Georgia. I had a pretty good idea Joan would not be returning to Athens Georgia. The only semi exciting thing to happen during my three day weekend was my run in with a group of street thugs during my walk in the hood. It happened during my first morning back.

They were hanging out in the convenience store parking lot getting high. The state had not legalized pot, but they had decriminalized it. The local cops were told not to arrest people with a couple of joints in their pocket. So the kids were pushing the new enforcement measures. They didn’t seem to pay me any attention when I went into the convenience store to buy a refill of my coffee.

The Vietnamese woman who had been the morning cashier for most of my time at the Car Wash advised me that they were running off her customers. I shook my head and asked if she had called the police.

“I don’t want trouble,” was her reply.

“Well I doubt they will leave without there being an incentive to leave. Call the cops and tell them they are trespassing.” I suggested.

She shook her head, which meant nothing was going to happen. I made sure the lid of my thermos was on tight then walked outside. One of the kids came up to me and blocked my way.

“Give me your money,” he demanded. “Or I’ll hurt you.”

“I’ve got a better idea. Get the fuck out of my way and I won’t hurt you,” I said staring at him. Neither of us moved for several minutes. Finally he stepped away. Yes it was a stupid thing to do. There was nobody I needed to impress, but he obviously felt he had something to prove.

“Old man, you don’t get it. This is my turf and you gotta pay the toll to travel through,” he demanded.

The boys were all lined up in front of me. Fuck it I thought, they were younger faster and out numbered me four to one, but they weren’t thinking clearly. If they were they might have realized I was carrying an almost six foot weapon, and showed no fear. I figured I had lost my mind, but I whipped the war club/ walking stick around and brought the weighted end down on the thug wanna bee with the big mouth’s clavicle. As usual the man with the broken collarbone dropped to his knees and as usual I was disappointed that there was no popping sound when it broke. It was almost always my first move in a street fight. Most of the time it ended a fight before it began. That is unless it was a battle tested soldier, or a gang of high kids. I did a fancy move to brace myself for the next assault, but it never came. The kids just left in a hurry.

Since I hit him with the blunt edge of the stick, I didn’t expect any blow back from the incident. Of course I was wrong. I got about a mile into the rest of my walk when the Triboro cop car pulled along side. I recognized the patrol sergeant from the bad old days.

“Chief, what the hell you been up to,” he asked.

“Just taking my morning walk Jeff, how about you?” I asked.

“I got a report about a possible gang fight in progress at the convenience store down the hill. Did you see anything?” he asked.

“Nope the only thing I noticed was a few kids high on weed hanging out in the parking lot harassing the customers,” I said.

“Well, if you see anything give us a call,” he said.

“I’ll do it,” I replied. I really didn’t want to explain the hiking stick with the weighted handle and camo paint job to some half ass liberal judge. That being the case I was glad that there were still cops who believed in street justice.

When I got back I called Thia. “Hi there hon, I’m home,” I said into the phone. It wasn’t her on the other end of the line. It was some robot taking down a message. “I’m going to call Jon to take him to lunch, if he isn’t busy.”

I sent Jon a text since he was at school. ‘It’s your grand dad. Give me a call’

Then I started my clothes washing chore. While they washed I made a quick trip to Walmart. I bought three more pairs or Jeans with extra pockets and a six pack of underwear. It was a shame the thermal tee shirts didn’t come in that six pack sized package, I thought.

When I got home, I found that I needed to put things in the dryer and start a second load. The whole damn day was going to be spent with me as a washer woman.

Thank god Jon called me just before noon. He agreed to allow me to pick him up after school and go for ice cream. “Okay so I’ll pick you up at three thirty at the high school parking lot. I’ll be driving the metro pick up.

The plan B gave me more time to prepare everything.