Read Online Life Struggles (Life Stories Book 1) by Mark Treble - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mark Treble
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hoped and hoped.
“You hope my… Oh, yeah. Hi!” Evangelina was sweet, just not the sharpest pencil in the drawer. Or the Motor Vehicle Office, for that matter.
“You get a break soon?” More hope.
“Yeah, my break's coming up in fifteen minutes. You want to see me?” Again, not the sharpest pencil in the drawer. Who the fuck calls the Motor Vehicle Office unless he wants something desperately enough to go through the hassle.
“I always want to see you.” Well, that was a lie. “Can I buy you a coffee at that place across the square?”
“Sure! I love their coffee. I haven't had that in a long time. Can I ask Belinda to come with me?” Sounds as though the eraser end has taken over this pencil.
“I'd rather see you alone, OK? And, can you bring your I-Pad with you? You said you had some new pictures of your family on it.” I couldn't remember her husband's name, nor the names of her two or three or four kids, or however many there were.
“Sure, the boys have really grown. Eric is in fifth grade now and Dawson is in fourth. Evelyn starts school next year, thank goodness. That'll let Big Eric go back to work and stop playing house husband.” Sometimes the stuff comes to you.
Fifteen minutes later I was occupying a corner booth at the café. Evangelina looked very happy, toting her I-Pad and clutching a (new?) purse. I complimented her on the purse. She had bought it on sale the previous weekend. Whew, one down.
We ordered coffee and I spent five minutes going through her picture album. Then I brought out five twenties and spread them out between us.
“The kids need clothes for school, and I want to help.” This was always the ruse under which she took a, well, uh, a, oh fuck, call it what it was. A bribe.
“Thank you! I guess you want to look at my I-Pad while I go to the ladies room?” She had the routine down pat.
“Thanks. The pictures are great.” As soon as she stood up I used her log-in to the Motor Vehicle data base. Got the information on the trucks and found the one I wanted. It had just passed its road test two days ago and was back in service. It was the smallest of the trucks, and I hoped that meant that it was used for deliveries in the cramped streets of the Quarter. Now, finding it was another problem.
When Evangelina returned I gave her a peck on the cheek, handed her the I-Pad, and wished her a good day.
“Danny, it's me checking in. I know I'm fifteen minutes late and I'm sorry. I have a huge favor to ask. Can your folks locate a specific truck in the Quarter?” Who knew, maybe the NSA had trackers on every vehicle in the country. Wouldn't surprise me.
“Give me a minute.” Danny put me on mute, and I hoped this wouldn't take too long.
“It's on Governor Nicholls approaching Chartres. Mounted patrol report. I don't want to ask why, do I?” I think Danny was hoping I'd tell him.
“Tell you later, Danny. Thanks, I've got to run.” I had three blocks to go. If I ran, I'd draw attention. If I walked, I might miss it. I walked and hoped.
The truck had just turned onto Chartres when I got there, and it was headed for me. Thank God, I just might make this. It pulled into a small store's loading area and stopped. Two guys got out. They off-loaded about six boxes, all of which appeared well-sealed. One guy stood on the sidewalk looking around while the other took the boxes into the store.
I've got to get them to stop and talk to me. What do I do? I can't walk up and tell them they were delivering drugs, would you mind answering a few questions? I was running out of ideas when I saw them.
A half dozen guys wearing what looked like three square inches of material among them were lazily walking down the street. Decadence revelers getting an early start, no doubt. Without thinking I stripped off my shirt and pants and joined them. I'm a bit old for this kind of nonsense, but it turned out I wasn't the oldest one in the group. Just the one most out of shape.
I carried my
“You hope my… Oh, yeah. Hi!” Evangelina was sweet, just not the sharpest pencil in the drawer. Or the Motor Vehicle Office, for that matter.
“You get a break soon?” More hope.
“Yeah, my break's coming up in fifteen minutes. You want to see me?” Again, not the sharpest pencil in the drawer. Who the fuck calls the Motor Vehicle Office unless he wants something desperately enough to go through the hassle.
“I always want to see you.” Well, that was a lie. “Can I buy you a coffee at that place across the square?”
“Sure! I love their coffee. I haven't had that in a long time. Can I ask Belinda to come with me?” Sounds as though the eraser end has taken over this pencil.
“I'd rather see you alone, OK? And, can you bring your I-Pad with you? You said you had some new pictures of your family on it.” I couldn't remember her husband's name, nor the names of her two or three or four kids, or however many there were.
“Sure, the boys have really grown. Eric is in fifth grade now and Dawson is in fourth. Evelyn starts school next year, thank goodness. That'll let Big Eric go back to work and stop playing house husband.” Sometimes the stuff comes to you.
Fifteen minutes later I was occupying a corner booth at the café. Evangelina looked very happy, toting her I-Pad and clutching a (new?) purse. I complimented her on the purse. She had bought it on sale the previous weekend. Whew, one down.
We ordered coffee and I spent five minutes going through her picture album. Then I brought out five twenties and spread them out between us.
“The kids need clothes for school, and I want to help.” This was always the ruse under which she took a, well, uh, a, oh fuck, call it what it was. A bribe.
“Thank you! I guess you want to look at my I-Pad while I go to the ladies room?” She had the routine down pat.
“Thanks. The pictures are great.” As soon as she stood up I used her log-in to the Motor Vehicle data base. Got the information on the trucks and found the one I wanted. It had just passed its road test two days ago and was back in service. It was the smallest of the trucks, and I hoped that meant that it was used for deliveries in the cramped streets of the Quarter. Now, finding it was another problem.
When Evangelina returned I gave her a peck on the cheek, handed her the I-Pad, and wished her a good day.
“Danny, it's me checking in. I know I'm fifteen minutes late and I'm sorry. I have a huge favor to ask. Can your folks locate a specific truck in the Quarter?” Who knew, maybe the NSA had trackers on every vehicle in the country. Wouldn't surprise me.
“Give me a minute.” Danny put me on mute, and I hoped this wouldn't take too long.
“It's on Governor Nicholls approaching Chartres. Mounted patrol report. I don't want to ask why, do I?” I think Danny was hoping I'd tell him.
“Tell you later, Danny. Thanks, I've got to run.” I had three blocks to go. If I ran, I'd draw attention. If I walked, I might miss it. I walked and hoped.
The truck had just turned onto Chartres when I got there, and it was headed for me. Thank God, I just might make this. It pulled into a small store's loading area and stopped. Two guys got out. They off-loaded about six boxes, all of which appeared well-sealed. One guy stood on the sidewalk looking around while the other took the boxes into the store.
I've got to get them to stop and talk to me. What do I do? I can't walk up and tell them they were delivering drugs, would you mind answering a few questions? I was running out of ideas when I saw them.
A half dozen guys wearing what looked like three square inches of material among them were lazily walking down the street. Decadence revelers getting an early start, no doubt. Without thinking I stripped off my shirt and pants and joined them. I'm a bit old for this kind of nonsense, but it turned out I wasn't the oldest one in the group. Just the one most out of shape.
I carried my
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