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A dark look crossed his face. “You want to see my fuckin' ID, kid?”
I was a little hesitant to hand it over. The last thing I needed was to be wrong and hand the bag over to the wrong person. Given the fact that I was new at this, I didn't know Tim's regular customers – didn't know anything, really. I should have at least asked for a description before pedaling off.
“If it wouldn't be too much trouble,” I said. “Yeah, can I see some ID?”
The man gaped at me for a long moment and then started to laugh. “Fuckin' newbies,” he muttered.
He turned and walked back into the house and returned with his wallet though. He took out a driver's license and showed it to me – two years expired. But, the picture was him and the name, “Harold Raymer” was clearly visible. It was him.
“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate – ”
“Great,” he cut me off. “Gimme my lunch and get the fuck outta here, newbie.”
I held up the bag and he snatched it from my hand, then slammed the door in my face. I suddenly felt really sorry for any pizza delivery guy who came by Harry's place. Walking my bike back out to the street, I climbed on and took off. Not having that albatross of a backpack around my neck felt great. I didn't have to worry about getting stopped in the street and hauled off to prison.
Now, I just had to hope Tim held up his end of the bargain and paid me well.
~ooo000ooo~
“Excellent work, Shane,” he said. “You're back in under two hours. That's got to be some sort of a record with the little shits I usually deal with. Nicely done, man.”
It felt weird being praised for doing something illegal well, but hey, given my track record with jobs lately, I took it. It meant I was going to be able to feed my family tonight. Hopefully, it meant I was going to be able to pay rent as well.
“That guy Harry,” I said, “he's – ”
“He's a fucking nutbag,” Tim said. “But, he's a good customer and always has cash, so he can be as big of a fuckin' nutbag as he wants, as far as I'm concerned.”
Tim disappeared into the bedroom and came back a few minutes later. I saw the cash in his hand and felt a surge of excitement in me. I had no idea how much he was going to give me, which, in hindsight, probably wasn't the smartest idea. I should have nailed him down to a figure before I accepted the job, b desperation makes you do stupid things.
Tim pressed a small stack of bills into my hand. “Well earned, man.”
I opened the stack and counted it out, my eyes growing a little wider with each bill. Four hundred dollars. I made four hundred dollars for not even two hours of work. I looked up at him to see if he was messing with me again.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“What, it's not enough?”
I shook my head quickly. “No, it's just more than I expected.”
He shrugged. “You run the risk out there,” he said. “You get paid. Just remember, part of that money is for your discretion and silence. You get caught, I don't fuckin' know you.”
I nodded quickly. “Yeah, I get it.”
“Seriously, man,” Tim said, his voice more serious than I'd ever heard it before. “You take that money, there's no rollin' on me. You do, you pay some serious fuckin' consequences.”
The threat sent a chill through me, but I nodded again. I looked up, held his gaze firm.
“You don't have to worry,” I said. “I'm not a rat.”
He clapped me on the shoulder, his smile wide. “Good man,” he says. “Now, go buy your brother and sister a nice meal.”
“I will,” I said.
I felt a genuine surge of excitement running through me. I was going to be able to treat them to something nice tonight. They'd been through so much, the deserved it.
“And remember, there's always more where that came from,” Tim said. “I need couriers all the time. So, you in? Can I put you at the top of my call list?”
A slight wave of trepidation surged through me. Muling drugs. Not exactly the career path I'd envisioned for myself. It was risky. Really risky. But then, was it really? I'd cruised right by a cop – was five feet from him – and he'd been none the wiser. To them, I was just some upstanding member of Walter's community on my way somewhere on my bike. They didn't know I was hauling drugs. So, how big was the risk really?
