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Back Just Thieves Save as PDF
Chapters (42)
  1. Cover
  2. Other Titles
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. 1
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 2
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 3
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. ACCOMPLICES AND EASY MARKS

Eva got in the car and we drove off. I didn’t tell her mother.

“How long has your mom had a boyfriend?”

“A long time,” Eva said. “I mean he’s back now, I guess. He was away for a while.”

“Out of town?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “He said he’s known me my whole life. But I don’t remember him. I only remember him from the past few weeks or so.”

“And you like him?”

“He’s all right. He says he knows you. I miss Frank,” she said.

“I miss Frank too. Wait. He knows me? What’s his name?”

“Moe,” Eva said.

“Moe Szyslak?”

Denise texted me. “WTF,” she wrote. “Bring her home. NOW.”

I texted back, “On our way.”

“Not that Moe.”

Denise texted back, “NOW.”

“Does he have a bar?”

“It’s not that Moe,” Eva said.

“I don’t know any other Moe,” I said.

“Maybe you don’t know him,” Eva said. “But maybe you will. You should meet him.”

“I could have,” I said. “But he drove off. Had to get to his bar, I guess.”

“That’s not him.”

“Sure sounds like him,” I said.

I pulled up in front of Eva’s house. Denise was on the porch, waiting to explode on me. I didn’t get out of the car. She gave me a nice finger and I waved back before I drove off.

32

THE MEETING

I WENT TO A MEETING. Talking to Denise had made me want to take something, anything, just a little whatever to knock everything down a notch or two, erase it for a while. I hadn’t felt like that in a long time. Not the momentum that goes from an urge to an action, an action you tell yourself that you can manage, just once, or just once in a while, but ends up managing you. I never felt like that. Which is why I went to a meeting. It didn’t make me feel better, but it kept me from regretting at least one decision.

It was a large group, and I sat near the front and listened to everyone as they told their stories. They’re all the same, for the most part. I try to be sympathetic – I am sympathetic – but they’re all clichés, really. I’m a cliché, I suppose. But at least I kept my mouth shut. I sat and listened and nodded my head, and applauded whenever everybody else did, but the time in the room was for me, and it gave me what I wanted without having to stand up and say anything.