Chapter 7

Cal stood at the door, watching his Dad's green, 1965 Jeep Two Door Station Wagon...

(The one with the just finished and reinstalled Corvette, .30 over bore, small journal, 283 with four speed and four wheel drive...

The one with the Brand New Gel Battery...

The one with Brand New Pirelli P1 Tires on Brand New Kelsey Hayes 15 inch Wire knockoff hub wheels...

The one with Formula One brakes, calipers and titanium brake lines...

The one he'd paid 3500.00 to have reupholstered...

The one with the three hundred dollar button off faceplate Sony CD player and top of the line JVC speakers...

The one he'd spent hundreds of hours perfecting the body to better than new ... the Jeep that was going to win the Twenty Fourth Annual Rod and Custom Car-Show.)

... drive off with a 17 year old girl seated in his Recaro electric seat. He looked at the turn signal flash right, and disappear around the corner. He looked at the five hundred twenty three dollars and twenty seven cents in his hand ... back at the corner ... back to the cash ... he walked into the kitchen, laid the money on the table, poured out his cold coffee, rinsed out the cup with hot water, poured a new cup and sat down, heavily.

He was alone in the house, but he said, out loud, "Well, that was stupid."

Two hours latter he was still sitting there, cold cup in his hand, trying to figure out WHY? He hadn't taken as much as a sip. The cup in the sink, he sat back and...

He was looking at the money... 'Good lord, it's counterfeit.' The color was wrong ... it was a little too green. The size was wrong ... it was a little to big. He shuffled through the bills ... The Tens all had a Buffalo instead of a President ... Lewis and Clark? 1901??

He had a very wealthy friend who was nuts over money ... not like that ... not new money, he had more new money than he could spend ... OLD money.

His cell was in his pocket ... he picked it out, cycled through the directory. Jimmy. He pushed SEND.

"JIMMY! HEY! BUSY?"

"She'll keep."

"Question for ya."

"1901 Buffalo Ten Dollar Bill ... What's it worth? Jimmy?" 'He hung up.'

He called back, "Señor Calvin ... Mister Adrian is not here ... he left ... He didn't say. Good day, Señor."

Twenty minutes later, Jimmy was at the kitchen door. He had his briefcase.

Jimmy lived in a secure house fifty miles out in the low mountains north of town. The road was as curvy as a 14 year old Olympic gymnast doing warmup exercises.

"This had better not be a joke" ... and then he saw the five hundred twenty three dollars and twenty seven cents.

He sat, heavily, looked up at the ceiling, looked back at the money ... took his glasses out of his briefcase. He unfolded a tan velvet cloth, put on new white silk gloves, covered them with new latex gloves. He picked up the money by sliding a spotless glass tray under the bills and put the bills on the tan cloth. He turned to Cal.

"Show me your hands." He minutely examined the hands. He nodded.

"Have you handled the bills?"

"Just enough to count it ... and look at it ... a little."

"Your hands were clean?"

"Yeah."

"How did you come by the money?"

"Sold the Jeep."

"To who?"

"Some 17 year old blond. Dunno her name."

"Why did you sell it?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out."

"I'm wanting to examine the bills ... may I?"

"Sure ... you sure are acting funny, Jimmy."

"Every time I authenticate a bill, my offer will go up."

"Offer?"

"I have none of these bills in my collection. The three hundreds ... all different, will fill out my hundreds collection. Both Fifty's are almost impossible to find ... I have neither.

"I really didn't look at the twenties but one of them is a Gold note. Very rare.

"Cal? If we hadn't fucked the same girls, partied all through high school, took beatings for trying to defend each other, and generally been life long buddies, I'd be trying to fuck you out of these in a heartbeat ... if they're real.

"If they're real ... Top dollar. More than a million. Yeah, clutch your chest. Pray to that goddess you hold dear that these are real."

"Holy shit, Jimmy!"

"Yeah ... get the door ... it's my bodyguards ... they don't drive like I do."

The process was long, exacting and tedious. Each bill was glass plated both sides and examined with a microscope VERY closely. As Jimmy sighed and scribbled in a collections book, he moved each note and glass to a second velvet cloth. It was dark before he finished the bills.

"I'm not interested in the coins but I can authenticate them for you ... this one, this... 1969-S Lincoln Cent With a Doubled Die Obverse ... Thirty Five thousand ... you have two. Probably a hundred grand.

"The 1916 Denver Mint Mercury dime ... you have two... $375 each.

"The nickel isn't a nickel"

"Not?"

"Nope ... Gold Dollar, really dirty. $225. Blond?"

"Yup."

"She over paid you by ninety five cents." They both cracked up.

Jimmy hauled out his checkbook. "Three million?"

Cal was shocked speechless.

"Ok ... three and a half."

If he could find his tongue he'd have shouted yes!

"All right ... Four, not a penny more."

"YEEEESSS!!" He made a dash for the sink and water. The glass was half gone when Jimmy said..."Two hundred thousand for the coins."

Cal spurted water out his nose.

Jimmy recalled, "Remember the milk in fifth grade? You were trying to impress ... What's her name? Oh yeah ... Angie ... Angela Hernandez ... the only girl with tits in elementary school. It was me that slapped you on the back and made you spurt ... I saved your life ... she cooks at that little TexMex diner on the east side... 350 pounds if she's an ounce ... her tits are still fifth grade size."

Cal started choking again.

"Cal ... I'm gonna save you some taxes. Hey John ... run out to the car and get the big case."

The case was duly delivered.

"Hundred thousand to a stack... 40 stacks Four Mil. I'll write a check for the coins ... pay taxes on that."

"Fuck! What am I going to do with all that cash?"

"Gun Safe, Cal. Gun Safe."

"It's full."

"What's worth more? The replica CVA black powder muzzleloaders you built from kits or 40 stacks of hundreds?"

"Oh ... yeah. Right."

"Cal? You remember who she is? Let me know."

"Yeah, right."

Jimmy could hear Cal tossing junk rifles right, left and center.

"There are times I don't know what to do about that boy." The bodyguards laughed.

"John ... Terry? You don't have to laugh just cause I said it ... yeah ... you do." And they all laughed as they headed to the cars.

"You boys keep up ... Hear?"

Bill woke up to pressure on his dick. Wet pressure. Wet ripply pressure. Like some one was milking his cock like hand milking a cow ... only wet hands ... without fingers.

He had been dreaming about green green eyes gazing lovingly up at him while her lips were sliding from tip to groin ... swallowing, repeatedly ... and sucking like an in-house vacuum as her lips hugged his shaft on the journey back to the tip. A breath and the slow silky return to the pulse in that elegantly long neck. At the bottom, a tongue only imagined or surgically altered snaked it's way out and caressed his rock hard and cum filled nut sack ... over and over. Down ... lick- caress, slow suck up, tongue trying to burrow it's way to his bladder ... He opened his eyes to a familiar bald cooter. Mina ... not Wili ... and absolutely not Megan, pulled off and said...

"Stick a tongue in that peach, Bill. Get it really wet ... I ain't got spurs but I'm gonna ride that overgrown third leg like a bronc."

He did ... she did ... they changed the sheets and the mattress pad. She got it again in the shower, then on the kitchen table, and he blasted her throat twice during the second shower while he was brushing her hair and massaging her scalp.

She sucked him up again and stuck a ruler from the short hairs out to the tip.

"If we shaved the jungle, Bill ... you'd be Nine ... and a half. Bill, you are a growing boy. Keep it up and we'll make movies!"

"What tripped your trigger, Mina?"

"I bought a car ... that I can drive.

"When you were taking a nap.

"I crawled in bed but you were catching some serious zee's. I went car shopping."

"Taxi?"

"Walked."

"What did you get?"

"Old station wagon. A '65. Two Door."

Bill thought he heard Olds Station-wagon, not 'old'. Immediate visions of a rusted out Vista Cruiser wandered across Bill's brain or maybe a Buick ... not as cool but still. The Vista Cruiser was imminently gaze worthy restored. '65 was a good year. He hiked to the only window ... it looked out on the driveway.

"Where is it?"

"Landlord made me put it in the garage."

That was an eyeopener ... it must be so ugly the landlord didn't want it seen.

"I'll look at it in the morning."

"Bill, it IS the morning ... you slept all night ... it's Halloween."

"Holy shit ... morning?"

"Yup."

"You shoulda woke me up."

"I just did."

"Well, I guess I better look at the car ... how much?"

"$523.27 on the nose."

'Oh god ... she got a running junker'. "In the garage?"

"Yeah ... here's the key ... go look. I gotta potty." She didn't ... she wanted to hear him when he saw it. She opened the window and the stair door. The garage door went up...

"HOLY FUCKIN' SHIT!!!" The Jeep door opened ... she grinned. "FUCK ME RUNNING!!" She gave a little chuckle. It started ... she could see it back out of the garage. He shut it off and got out ... Every few seconds she heard, "FUCK!", and "SOMABITCH!" and variations of the theme, as he crawled around looking at features. "MINA!!! GET DOWN HERE!! I CAN"T FIND THE HOOD RELEASE!"

"It's under the dash ... looks like an emergency brake handle ... and Bill ... calm down, there's a noise ordinance here."

The landlord shouted from the porch..."Billy, Shut up!!"

"Yes sir ... sorry ... I'm ... well ... I'm shocked."

"You shoulda heard me when she came driving up in it. I am amazed you didn't wake up."

The 19 year old topless dancer from across the street came out on her porch ... naked..."You two shut up before I call the cops ... can't a girl get any sleep around here?" She scratched her cooter and realized she was nude ... she swivel hipped her way back inside ... muttering.

The landlord opened the door and popped the hood. "I had to show Wili where it was too."

One of the mods Cal had made was spring loaded hinges. The hood stayed up without a support rod.

The Chrome and Gold Corvette rocker covers winked at them from the confines of the engine bay.

Bill sat down.

There was no chair.

"No Bill, you can't go. This is girl time. You need to stay home and feed candy to the neighborhood.

I can hear you right now. 'Candy little girl?'"

Mina had places to go and snatches to suck. "You better run to Safeway and get some candy ... you'll probably have to go several places to get enough."

All the 10, 11, 12 and thirteen year old girls in the neighborhood spent most of the summer wandering the local streets hoping that Bill would notice they were 'growing.'

They were going to be out in force ... little Elvira's, Morticia's and any one else with cleavage that they could fake with padding and pushup bras.

"Just don't get caught ... anyone within four years of age you'll probably be safe introducing to the joys of sex but ton't go knocking any of the hormone driven little darlings up ... get some condoms."

"Where you going?"

"Ain't saying ... this is none of your business. You know I do this a couple of times a year. Just because it was 38 real time years ago ... it was only seven months ago. You couldn't go then and ya can't go now ... Go buy your candy ... and condoms. I'll even donate to the cause."

She handed him that huge handful of alarm ringing change that nearly got them arrested at the school.