Old Habits
I woke up in the passenger seat of the black van, buckled in for safety, my head resting against the half-open window. I was groggy and still in a fair amount of pain, but ignored it while I surveyed my surroundings, trying to figure out exactly where I was and how I’d gotten there.
Gabe, of course, would have had to have carried my unconscious body to the van, but it had been locked in a storage building at least a mile (or more) away from the surf shop. How had he gotten me out of the burning building and to the storage facility without being noticed, or even stopped? This at least partially explained how I’d gotten to where I was, but I still was completely clueless about my actual location.
The van was parked on the edge of a dirt road lined with trees as far as I could see. The trees looked thick, blocking out a large amount of the light shining down. I couldn’t be sure what time it was, but it seemed like later afternoon. The sky was still overcast with clouds as well, but the rain had stopped, at least momentarily.
I unbuckled my seat belt and opened the van door, swinging my legs around and carefully climbing out of the vehicle. I could barely stand to put pressure on my wounds, and didn’t even want to pull up my pant leg, unwrap my gauze, and see what a mess I was in. At that moment, I realized I was no longer wearing the ripped, bloody pants I had been before. Gabe must have also found the time to put clean jeans on me before we left.
I limped to the front of the van and continued to look around, trying to find some trace of where Gabe had gone. At first, I saw nothing.
After hobbling around to the rear of the van, I opened the back doors to reveal all the weed we’d advance-purchased from our providers up north. It was packaged nicely, wrapped up and placed in the type of shopping tote bags an Earth-conscious hipster would use at the grocery store. Upon further inspection, I noticed that each bag was emblazoned with the words “GO GREEN!” in bold, black font. I had to hand it to Gabe, sometimes his wit was almost too much for me.
I put the bags back as I had found them and closed the door. The best I could figure was Gabe had brought us to a meeting point with his contact. We were going to sell the rest of the weed and have enough money in our pockets to hit the road and never look back… again.
“Hey!” I heard Gabe yell as I leaned against the back of the van, trying to take some weight off my injured leg. “What are you doing walking around?” he asked, emerging from the trees, brushing leaves from his shirt. I couldn’t tell if his voice was angry or concerned.
With him, Gabe brought a short woman, dressed in a tank top and faded jeans. She also wore a dusty, faded cowboy hat on her head. Her hair was long and dark brown, her eyes were big, and as much as I tried to ignore it, her chest was huge. She smiled widely at me and waved, though I had never seen her before in my life. Giving my best guess, I would say she was about thirty-years-old.
“Who’s this?” I asked, adding “Who are you?”
The almost-psychotic smile never left her face as she responded, “I’m Ann Ellis, but you can call me Oakley! I’m a friend of Gabe’s. It’s so nice to meet you! Are you Jamie?” She spoke a mile-a-minute, and though she hadn’t asked any tough questions, I found it hard to keep up. It probably didn’t help her voice was comparable to Minnie Mouse’s.
“I’m Jamie, yeah,” I said, bewildered at first. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Oakley.” I shot Gabe a glance that hopefully read, ‘Where the hell did you find this one?’ as Oakley jogged up to me, holding onto her cowboy hat, and shook my hand vigorously.
Gabe cleared his throat and spoke. “Oakley is going to buy the rest of the weed. She has a cabin back in the woods where she grows her own product, but her last harvest didn’t work out so well, so we’re doing her a huge favor.”
I nodded.
“Now, Gabe, we’re doing favors for each other! You need to unload this extra Mary-Jane, and I need all your product and the van to make my deliveries in! It’s a perfect trade off!”
I eyed Gabe and mouthed the words, ‘The van?’
Oakley continued to speak enthusiastically. “See, I make edibles and deliver them to dispensaries in Los Angeles. I’m not a dealer, per se, but I do make a nice living off my baking skills! My mint-chocolate-weed cupcakes are to die for!”
“I bet they are,” I agreed, eyeing Gabe again. I assumed he had promised Oakley the van when he originally made the deal, not too long before our only other mode of transportation exploded. I figured I’d leave it to Gabe to break the news the van wouldn’t be included in the sale.
Oakley immediately began scoping out the van; peeking through the windows, kicking the tires, even opening the driver side door and hopping in, making sure it was up to her standards. She honked the horn once, letting out a small squeal of excitement before jumping out of the van and rejoining the two of us.
“Gabe, this is too perfect!” She cooed.
“I’ll say it is,” I replied under my breath, nudging Gabe with my elbow. He shot me a glance saying he had the situation under control, but I was genuinely curious to see how it played out. Part of me couldn’t help but imagine Oakley’s reaction to the news.
“Look, Oakley, we might need to renegotiate the terms of our deal, here,” Gabe began. “There was an incident earlier today, and it left us a without a car, more or less.”
“More,” I said.
“What are you saying?” Oakley asked.
“The van; we’re going to have to keep it. But the weed is all yours!” Gabe stated, throwing the silver lining out there for her.
“We had a deal. I need the van to make my deliveries.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but our car, well… it kind of blew up. Actually, it really blew up.”
Oakley stared at the two of us, standing there with our dicks in our hands. I bit my lip and shrugged my shoulders at her as Gabe continued trying to diffuse her anger, or at least I assumed it to be anger; her voice was as chipper and kind-sounding as ever.
“You know any other time I’d be a man of my word, but there are extenuating circumstances at work here. Jamie and I are leaving Behler tonight, and we can’t get out of town without wheels.”
“What did you do?” Oakley asked, crossing her arms over her enormous chest. Her body language said she was being cautious, but her voice was curious.
Gabe was good at lying, but I found myself in a state of figurative shock when he started spewing out the truth. All things considered, it really didn’t matter who knew about what happened, as we’d likely be changing our names and appearances within the next twenty-four hours.
“There are bad people after us. We didn’t do anything anybody else wouldn’t have done given the situation, but they want us dead. They planted a bomb in our car and killed our…” he paused, “friend, Ford. If you don’t believe me, look at Jamie’s leg. He got pretty banged up in the explosion.”
I dutifully raised my pant leg to reveal the bandage, complete with seeping blood stains. “He tells the truth,” I added.
Oakley mulled the explanation over in her head for a moment. “How do I know you didn’t blow up your own car to, I don’t know, get rid of some evidence or something? I don’t know the two of you very well, but based on what I do know; trouble seems to follow you around like a plague.”
“We’re telling the truth,” I said. “Ford was my friend, and now he’s in a thousand pieces.” I was being sincere, and it was possible the gravity of our situation was just sinking in for the first time. I found myself holding back tears, hoping if anyone noticed, they’d assume it was from the pain in my leg.
Oakley hesitated. “I need the van…”
“We don’t have time to buy a new car, especially not in Behler,” Gabe urged. “The police have probably already come to the same conclusion you did. They’ll think we set off the bomb and killed Ford, and they’re probably already looking for us. Plus, buying a car with cash isn’t always the easiest task to accomplish.”
“You’re not getting the whole twelve th
ousand for just the pot.”
“That’s fair. How much can you give for the weed by itself?”
I was worried about Gabe’s desperate tone, but let him keep the reigns. He liked being in control, as I’d learned upon first meeting him, but if Oakley could sense just how badly we needed to get out town, she might try to screw us out of the money we needed to make that happen.
“Seven thousand,” Oakley offered.
“Oakley!” Gabe shouted. “There’s more than fifty ounces of quality product in the back of that van! We’re desperate, but we’re not that desperate.”
“Take it or leave it, sweet cheeks. I only agreed to the trade because of the van. I can get product anywhere, and let’s be honest, the quality doesn’t make as much of a difference in baked goods.”
“Oakley,” I began. “You seem like a very nice, compassionate, caring person. Please level with us on this,” I begged.
“Take it, or leave it.”
“Eight,” Gabe argued.
“Seven.”
“Seven-five.”
“…Seven.”
Gabe scowled at Oakley, who seemed to be losing her backwoods, California charm quite fast. “Let me talk it over with my associate.” Gabe marched towards me, grabbed my elbow, and led me to the other side of the van, me limping as quickly as I could to keep up with him. I felt like a disobedient child being led away by an angry parent. “We need the money,” Gabe said, stating the obvious.
“I agree, but is it worth the price cut?” I asked. “Can you make another deal with someone who will pay a higher price?”
Gabe rolled his eyes, more in annoyance at the situation than me, for once. “Yes, but we don’t have time. I think we should take it and run,”
I knew the decision had basically already been made, but tried to think if I had any other questions or suggestions for us. Seven thousand dollars would get us pretty far, but we still weren’t sure how we were supposed to make money once we had settled. The last time we had fled, we had obtained a lot more money, enough to allow us time to build a customer base and open up a small business. “I don’t think we have much of a choice,” I said.
Gabe and I made our way back around the van to a waiting Oakley, who smiled at us charmingly. “And?” she asked.
“Seven thousand,” Gabe said, happiness not evident in his voice.
Oakley clapped her hands together in excitement, prancing forward and embracing Gabe in a bear hug. I would have laughed, but was caught off guard as she did the same to me, even taking the time to kiss me on the cheek. “I knew you’d make the right decision! Now, come on! We’ll finalize everything back in my cabin.”
As Oakley immediately began to make her way through the thick foliage in front of us, Gabe nodded his head towards the van, motioning for me to grab some of the weed. I obeyed, grabbing three of the bags and handing the other two to him, wondering how painful the trek through the woods would be, and exactly how far out Oakley’s cabin was.
As it turned out, the cabin was about three quarters of a mile into the woods, which became less ominous and branch-filled the further we went. After the first half of the trip, I found I could walk easily, and the ground had leveled out for the most part. The trip wasn’t easy on my leg by any means, but I managed to make it to the large clearing that held Oakley’s cabin without breaking a sweat or complaining too much.
“This is it!” Oakley exclaimed, though I was the only one who hadn’t seen the place before. It was, however, nice and secluded, a perfect place to run a drug-oriented business. Behind the cabin, I could make out the makings of a small field that had recently been tilled, but nothing was currently growing in it.
We entered the cabin through an unlocked door, and I immediately began to assess my surroundings. From what I could tell, the cabin only had one room, set up as a living room, bedroom, and kitchen. I didn’t even want to ask where she used the bathroom. However, I guessed living in the middle of the woods had its perks for those who were more “outdoorsy.”
The place wasn’t exactly tidy, with household items strewn about like discarded toys, but it seemed safe enough. I saw nothing too out of the ordinary until my eyes settled on a man, about Oakley’s age, sitting nude on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table. He was fast asleep. He had shoulder-length hair and was, luckily, pretty fit. The only thing worse than walking in on a naked man lounging on a couch, was walking in on a naked, fat man lounging on a couch.
I nudged Gabe and nodded towards the man, but Gabe merely smiled, as if to remind me he had already been here once today.
Oakley turned to face us, obviously witnessing me gawking at the naked man, and laughed heartily. “Oh, don’t mind him. That’s just my husband, River.”
“They’re nudists,” Gabe stated dryly.
Oakley nodded her agreement and added, “I’ve gotten into the habit of putting on clothes when company stops by, which isn’t often, but River is a traditionalist. ‘You don’t like it, get the hell out of my cabin,’ is what he’d say if he was awake. But don’t mind him anyway,” she added, using her best “angry male” voice when impersonating her husband, a pretty funny attempt, considering her mousy voice.
Oakley walked to what I assumed acted as the kitchen table and pointed to a pile of neatly stacked cash.
“This is it?” Gabe asked.
“Yes,” Oakley answered, taking four stacks of the money and separating them from the rest. “The bigger stack is yours, and I’ll keep the rest.”
Gabe took in a long draw of breath and sat his Earth-friendly shopping bags on the table, emptying the contents of one in order to fill it with the cash. I followed him in setting my bags down and watched as the cash vanished into the bags. Oakley picked up the discarded pot and squeezed the plastic-wrapped packages in her hands, taking a moment to raise them to her nose and smell them.
“You’re sure this is quality? It smells a little… musky.”
Gabe nodded, not bothering to explain anything to Oakley. I’d learned in the past year or so, one thing Gabe hated was being questioned, especially when the question involved his talent or integrity. And while the pot was severely below-par, it was highly likely Oakley wouldn’t figure this out until we were long gone. For the first time ever, we were ripping off one of our clients, a fact I knew was digging away at Gabe as we spoke, even though Oakley, herself, had said the quality of weed in edibles wasn’t all that important.
Oakley took another sniff of the package and shrugged, adding a chipper “Well, I trust you, Gabe.” As she said this, I diverted my eyes, trying hard not to let any tell-tale signs of exasperated relief become visible on my face.
A tense moment came and passed as no one spoke. The transaction was technically done, but it seemed as if no one knew what to do next. I looked from Gabe to Oakley, then inadvertently to Oakley’s still-naked and passed out husband before quickly dragging my eyes back to Oakley. “Well, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, but we should probably hit the road, right?” I asked, gesturing towards Gabe who nodded his agreement.
“Yeah, Oakley, it’s been nice seeing you, and truth be told, it’ll probably be a while before we get to see you again.”
Oakley smiled sympathetically and embraced us both in a simultaneous bear hug. “You two be careful, wherever you’re going. I don’t know all the details, but I have a feeling this isn’t just your spontaneous need to relocate. Just… watch your backs.” Her words were sincere, and I could tell she genuinely wished us safe travels. I also didn’t mind the fact she wasn’t asking too many questions about why we were unloading our product and skipping town, aside from knowing what Gabe had already explained to her.
As Oakley walked us towards the door, out of the corner of my eye I could see River stirring on the couch. He pulled the television remote from between two couch cushions and proceeded to turn on the T.V. without even bothering to ask who we were or introduce himself. Maybe he was used
to Oakley’s constant flow of drug-related guests.
Oakley opened the door to usher us outside, smiling and saying, “Safe travels, boys,” but her words were interrupted by River’s startled and somewhat excited shout from the couch…
“They’re on TV!”
I stopped in my tracks, realizing Gabe was already on his way across the room. He knelt down in front of the TV screen as I passed by Oakley, walking up behind Gabe. I felt the pain throbbing in my leg again as the rest of my body went numb, and the horrible sensation of being about to pass out crept up on me, only slower than it had before, in the surf shop.
The majority of the screen was taken up by an aerial shot of the burning shop, a smoldering mass of twisted metal that had once been our car sitting not too far away, surrounded by firefighters. Inset on the screen were two photos, one of me and one of Gabe (where the news got them, I’ll never know), and below the photos were the words:
Kevin Richardson & Airic Frye (Aliases)
Suspects in homicide/arson, considered armed & extremely dangerous
(An Old-Fashioned Armed Robbery)