Read Online That Good Night by Richard Probert - Free Book Online Page B

America. We hit the bank just before closing where I added another one-hundred-eighty-six-thousand dollars to my kitty. Buying a good boat was looking better and better. We stayed overnight in a dingy motel near Wilkes-Barre. Dinner was a Big Mac. If they served these fat-laden things at Sunset, clientele turnover would triple. On the other hand, why not? Why the need to regulate every damn morsel of food? To keep us alive? How many weeks or months would any one of us give to have tasty food?
    The motel mattress was thin and lumpy, the linen clean but threadbare. My first night out of Sunset and I actually missed the bed. But by damn, I didn’t miss anything else.

FRIDAY, JUNE 29
    Unusual for Bob, he was sound asleep when I awoke at six. Bob was embarrassed that I had to wake him, as if sleeping in was a mortal sin. His MO would have him traipsing all over the place by 4 AM making enough racket to wake the dead. At least that’s how it happened when we sailed together. Over breakfast, Bob apologized for
not getting up in time
whatever that meant. “Been a bit tired these days,” he explained as if any explanation was necessary. I simply responded by telling him that older people are allowed to sleep as long as they liked. He seemed to accept that.
    On the road by seven, we headed for York, this time via all interstate. Let’s just say that Bob’s driving was by the rules. If the speed limit was 65 MPH, then we went 65 MPH, no matter that cars passed us like we were standing still. If a car pulled in front of us that Bob thought was too close, he braked hard and called the guy a bastard. Then, slowly, he’d get back up to speed. We spent half the time reading lettering on the back of semis. Between playing road hazard and stopping at nearly every rest stop, we arrived in York just before noon.
    After getting my money out of York Savings and Loan, I had a nest egg of eight-hundred-thirty-thousand dollars. With that much money, I could buy a solid boat and live out my days enjoying the good life of a sailor. And there was still one bank togo. On our way out of York, we stopped in a Wal-Mart where I bought a disposable cell phone. I never had nor needed a cell phone so I was entirely captivated by the device. When I was a kid, we’d use two Campbell soup cans connected by a taut string. Jerry Pearsall, my next door neighbor, and I talked between our adjacent bedroom windows like we were spies behind German lines. Damn, with this cell phone anything was possible. It was like having a Dick Tracy two-way radio watch. I called Cat.
    â€œHey dude, how’s it goin’?”
    I filled Cat in on our adventure, sans the stops at various banks. I asked about what happened after our escape.
    â€œI hate to tell you, man, like nobody wanted to call in the cops or anything. Everything was hushed up, like the other inmates don’t even know it. Maybe they think you’re dead or something. I guess they called one of your kids, because like some lawyer guy came to Sunset this morning raising all kinds of hell. Talked about closing the place down.”
    That didn’t surprise me one bit. I could see my junior namesake turning the loss of his dad into financial gain. Suing Sunset was right up his alley because my disappearing would tie up my estate. No body, no pay. So my guess is that he’d try to get me declared dead. That’d take a while. Maybe years. In the meanwhile, he had my money to play with, especially since he’d be relieved from paying the nursing home eight-thousand a month.
    â€œWhat about the implant?” I asked.
    â€œDude, you’re going to love this. I took Kingdom home and like gave him some Ex-Lax. I mean that poor dog. He like crapped like you wouldn’t believe. The implant showed up in a turd, like it was packaged. Kingdom left it next to Uncle Dan’s back porch. They fingered me, but I’m not cooperating. I thinkmy uncle just wants to forget