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“Relax, man,” he said. “I'll take care of you. I'll make sure it's worth your while.”
“And worth the risk?”
He nodded. “Absolutely,” he said. “Trust me.”
Trust wasn't something I typically handed out all that easy. I've learned the hard way, that you can't really trust people. Especially somebody who deals in the shady side of things like Tim. But, it's not like I had a lot of options at the moment if I wanted to keep a roof over our heads and food in our bellies.
“Okay,” I said. “Two hours.”
He handed me a slip of paper with an address written on it. “Take the bag here,” he said. “Make sure you give it to Harry – and nobody but Harry.”
“I'm on it.”
~ooo000ooo~
It was another scorcher of a day and sweat was rolling off of me in sheets. My shirt clung to me uncomfortably and I was a nervous wreck. My breath caught in my throat and my heart thundered inside of me when I cycled toward a cop, standing there, leaning against his car drinking from a bottle of water.
As I drew even with him, he eyed me up and down. Eyed me a little too closely, which made my heart thump even harder. I was sure he could hear it.
“Afternoon,” he said.
“Officer,” I replied.
“Make sure you stay hydrated, son,” he said. “It's hotter than Hades out here.”
“Will do,” I said. “Thank you, sir.”
As I cycled past, I let out a long breath of relief and wiped the sweat from my brow. It took me a little more than an hour to find the place. It was on the far side of town – the literal wrong side of the tracks. It shouldn't have surprised me that the bag was going to somebody down there. Crime and drugs were rampant in the area.
Even though I'd memorized the address, I checked the paper one more time before stopping my bike in front of a rundown house. It had once been a cornflower blue, but the paint was sun bleached and peeling. Thick bars were fastened over every window, the yard was overgrown with weeds that reached my thigh, and there were several cars in various states of disrepair in the driveway and nestled among the tall weeds.
I leaned my bike against a wooden fence that was missing more boards than it had left and wondered about the wisdom of leaving it there. After a brief second thought, and not wanting to find it gone when I got back, I wheeled it up and leaned it against the cracked, broken column that stood on the porch.
Stepping up to a thick metal security door, I fought back a wave of nervous energy, and knocked. A dog somewhere deeper in the house barked, a deep, angry sound that sent chills along my skin. The deep woofing drew closer and I started to grow even more nervous. Getting mauled by a big dog was not on my to-do list for the day.
From behind the door, I heard a man's voice yelling – probably at the dog – and the barking stopped. A moment later, the door opened and from behind the metal bars of the security door, a tall, fat man with long, greasy gray hair and a goatee stared back at me.
“The fuck you want, preppy?” he snapped.
I looked down at my jeans and black t-shirt, feeling like anything but a preppy. But, considering he was only wearing a pair of cut off blue jean shorts, his large belly hanging over the waist band, I suppose I was dressed to the nines.
“You Harry?”
His eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched. He took a long drag of his cigarette, pinning me to my spot with a hard gaze. He didn't speak for a long moment, just blew a thick plume of smoke into my face. I exhaled, waving the cloud of smoke away and tried to not cough.
“Who's asking?” he finally said.
“Tim sent me,” I said, hacking just a little bit. “I have a delivery for Harry.”
Immediately, the man's face brightened, and he smiled, showing me a mouth full of rotting teeth – or rather, what was left of his rotting teeth. He only had three or four left.
“Well, why the fuck didn't you say so up front?” he said.
I shrugged. “New at this, I guess.”
He opened the door a crack and stuck his hand out. “Lemme have it.”
I stepped back a step and looked at him. “You are Harry, right?”
