I’m nervous about leaving it unlocked but spot two guys sitting in their old beat-up truck, watching me. They are waiting for it.

“How are we going to get the money?” Dorothy keeps asking me as we walk around the aisle aimlessly.

“They’re going to drop it off,” I say.

“What if they don’t?”

I would be lying if that thought hadn’t crossed my mind.

But there isn’t much I can do. I don’t really want to hold on to all of that meth for any longer than necessary.

“We should just be patient,” I say.

Her eyes meet mine in the grocery section. She’s worried, much more than I am.

My goal was to get into the US. If it all goes to shit, I can go to Vegas and find Big Dipper and try to set things right.

But Dorothy? She doesn’t really know him as anyone but a voice on the phone.

And she needs the money to save her husband’s life.

25

Nicholas

When we wait…

We come out of the store, holding our shopping bags full of snacks, food, and water. Most of them are mine.

I lead Dorothy to the bus stop all the way across the parking lot. This would be the least conspicuous place to do this.

“The RV is gone,” Dorothy says, turning to me.

“They are going through it.”

“They took it and they aren’t going to pay us,” she says, shaking her head.

It’s a very real possibility, I admit, but keep my mouth shut. I don’t want to make her worry anymore than she already is.

We wait for close to ten minutes, which feels like a decade.

Then the same car, but this time with just one guy pulls up to us. He doesn’t get out.

He just stops, opens the door, and gives us each a duffel bag, then drives away.

I open the zipper and peer inside. Seeing bundles of cash makes my heart sing. This is going to be enough to get a new identity, a clean one, and to start a new life.

“It’s all here,” Dorothy says, overjoyed, after doing a rudimentary count of the money. “What are you going to do now?”

“Get a cab and a ride to a used car dealership. You can’t get around California well without one. You?”

“Same thing, I guess. Minus the car dealership.”

“You’re going to take the cab all the way to San Diego?” I ask. She shrugs. “With all of that money?”

She shrugs again.

“No, come with me and I’ll give you a ride.”

I buy a 2006 Honda Accord for an even three grand, splurging a bit on one that has a sound transmission so that it doesn’t break down at some inconvenient time on the freeway.

After dropping off Dorothy at her house, I call Big Dipper.