“Calm down son.” Came an elderly voice on the other end of the wire. This is Frankie’s aunt calling back. He wanted me to call you and tell you he will call you back at two thirty sharp. He said he had something to do that was very important but, he would make sure he called you at two thirty.”
“Okay dammit. But tell him I’m not a happy camper. I’ve been waiting in this stupid bar listening to the stupid pouring rain while stupid Frankie was doing something stupid. Just tell him I’ll be at the phone at two thirty and he’d better call me then.”
“I’m sure he will dear. I’ll make sure he calls you. Bye now.”
Stretch slammed down the phone and peered through the misty glass at the clock hanging over the jewelry store across the street. Five hours to go he thought. What the hell am I going to do for five hours? He decided to go back to bar and down a few drafts to kill some time. He had been Shady’s Bar and Grill since 8:00 am on Sunday morning. They opened early since they were low class enough that they did not want to miss out on any paying customers no matter what day of the week it was.
At precisely two thirty Stretch walked back over to the pay phone and breathed a sigh of relief because the rain had quit about one hour before and he might be able to actually hear a conversation. He was thinking that Frankie wouldn’t call but he was in a lot mellower mood since he had consumed eighteen Budweiser drafts while waiting for two thirty to roll around. The phone rang at exactly two thirty three and he reached out a shaky hand, picked up the black receiver, and placed it carefully against the side of his head.
“Hello. Is that you Frankie?”
“Yea, it’s me Stretch. How ya hangin. I heard from my aunt that it was raining cats and dogs out there. You stayin dry?”
“I’m okay Frankie. What was so important that you couldn’t call you’re ol’ pal Stretch back?”
“Oh, you know that dumb ass albino, Carrie, who got released the same time as I did. He was messin with some teenage pimple faced fat broad last night. Giving her beers and smokin a little dope over at the park. Just when he thought he was gonna slam bam her, she pulls the miss prissy act and he slapped her up the side of the face. Well this little female Pillsbury Dough Boy goes runnin and yells at the first cop she sees that, she has been sexually molested. Well, the cops came runnin up and Carrie like the dumb ass he is, is still standing where she left him behind some bushes. His pants are hanging around his ankles. He’s got a beer in one hand and his thing in the other and a big smile on his face still thinking the fat broad is coming back. Well, they let him pull his pants back up and then they cuffed him and hauled him away. He called me up first thing this morning, ballin his eyes out and I guess I felt kind of sorry for him cause we’ve been hangin around for quite a long time and all he was doing was trying to get laid. So I guess I have a soft spot after all. I was out this morning rounding up some bail money to get the poor guy out of jail. Anyway, what’s so important that you got your underwear all knotted. Did you find us a good job or what?”
“Yeah Frankie. The best yet. How does about two mill sound to you?”
“What do we have to do? Break into Fort Knox.”
“No Frankie. This is a piece of cake. You know my little brother Steve. I told you about him the last time we were in the pen together. How he works for that big wheel computer company and all. Well, he has designed a security system for this new resort in Florida that is opening in June. I’ve got the floor plans and the complete set of all the security systems.”
“No shit! I heard all about that resort on the news. They’re planning a big grand opening and all the rich people are going to attend. They were naming off names on the TV that would be fitting for a coronation of a queen. I know there will be big bucks there. Everybody wears their real ice to a place like that so they can try to impress each other.”
“See what I mean Frankie. At least two million will be there just for the plucking. I’m taking the next bus to Ohio so I can discuss all the details with you and show you these plans. I’ll be there sometime tomorrow.”
“All right Stretch. Congratulations for the great work and I’ll see you when you get here.”
Stretch Sidel climbed off the Greyhound bus with a battered suitcase in hand and headed for the row of pay phones along the inside wall of the bus terminal. He reached in the pocket of his prison issued suit trousers and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper that he had written Frankie’s aunt’s number on. He pulled his last quarter out of the other pocket and fed it into the coin slot. He reached a shaky hand out, he had just finished the fourth pint of rot-gut cheap whiskey, that he bought before leaving Topeka, on the bus before it pulled into the terminal, and dialed Frankie’s aunt’s number. The phone was picked up on the second ring and the aunt answered in her sweet elderly voice.
“Hello. Janice Halpern here.”
“Yeah Janice. This is Sam Sidel from Topeka. Is Frankie there?”
“Oh hi Stretch. It is Stretch isn’t it? That’s what Frankie calls you.”
“Yeah it’s Stretch. Is he around?”
“Yes he is Stretch. He just finished a nice hot lunch of leftover pot roast that I made him and he is still sitting at the table smoking a cigarette. Let me get him on the phone for you.”
“Stretch you made it. Where’re you at?”
“I’m downtown at the bus terminal. Why don’t you shag your ass over here and pick me up and we can go somewhere and talk. I’ve got a lot to tell you.”
“Okay Stretch. I’ll borrow auntie’s car and come pick you up and we can go over to Freeman’s pool hall. They have a few quiet tables in the back and we can sit back there with a few pitchers of beer and discuss what we are going to do. I’ll pick up Carrie on the way at his rooming house so we don’t have to explain everything twice. I’ll be right there.”
“I’m not going anywhere Frankie. I’ll be out front when you pull up and by the way bring some money. This trip cost me the rest of my money. I don’t even have enough to buy a beer.”
“No problem Stretch. That little bitch dropped the charges this morning on Carrie and they refunded the bail money. I won’t worry about paying it back for a while so I’ve got some up front money for us to work with. See you shortly.”
Frankie pulled up to the curb in front of the bus station in an old Fairlane station wagon and beeped sharply on the horn. Stretch who had been staring out the front window pushed open the glass door of the terminal and walked slowly over to the car, opened the rear door and threw his suitcase behind the rear seat and climbed in on the clear vinyl seat cover.
“Well I made it Frankie. What a drag riding that stupid bus. I never want to do that again. How ya doin Carrie? Long time no see.”
“Hey, I’m doing okay except that incident in the park. I guess Frankie told you about that.”
“Yeah, what a bummer. But shit happens you know. Hey Frankie. How far is this place? I’m dying of thirst.”
“Right down the road a stretch. Five minutes tops.”
They pulled into the back parking lot of a faded brick building and went in the back door. A haze of smoke hung close to the ceiling over the short bar that had every stool filled. Frankie nodded to the bartender and told Carrie to pick up two pitchers and three mugs, flipped a twenty at him and led Stretch into a side room. The air was much clearer in the vacant room and they sat at one of the four tables in the small enclosure. Carrie came in the door awkwardly carrying the two pitchers and he had three mugs balanced on his arms next to his chest. He asked Frankie to grab the mugs first and then he set the pitchers down, beer sloshing over the tops of both of them.