Rob cruised the mall parking lot in the Lincoln Town Car for the third time. The day before Christmas and it was still crowded. Perhaps this was the promise that he had seen at the beginning of the season but so far had fallen short. He could make maybe one more circuit before he needed to head out and meet the guys.
He hoped he had what he needed in the trunk, though he still had to sort through the last batch of bags at some point to see who might get what. There were a few things he knew he still wanted and hadn't found. A Wii would be nice, but those were almost impossible to come by. His niece and nephew might have to settle for an X-box 360 but that was so last year. He didn't have much hope of finding one this late. Though experience from previous years said not to give up. Miracles still did sometimes happen.
He slammed on the brakes as the onyx land ark cut right in front of him from the access road and sped away through the parking lot. What the hell was that thing, an Armada? A Lexus LX? No, an Infiniti QX, the largest SUV on the market. And a woman driving. This had potential.
He didn't blow the horn like he wanted to, or give her a one-fingered salute as he would have almost any other day. It was Christmas. Instead he kept an eye on her and followed from a discreet distance. He made bets in his mind on where she was headed. Macy's? Nordstrom's? The Hamlet specialty shops? It didn't really matter. The only thing it might tell him is how long he would have.
He flicked the switch that rolled down all the Lincoln's windows and adjusted the mirrors so he had a better view all the way around. It was cool outside, in the forties, not what he thought of as cold. God, how he loved the Town Car. Power windows, power mirrors, power seats, power everything. And the heat was fantastic. Even had a seat warmer. The only thing his father had been able to leave him, even if it had killed the old man to do it. It was his prize now, one he kept polished and shined, a sparkling forest green. And it made all the difference this time of year. It was nothing like his old Charger in the driveway which was all primer, dents and rust. When the people in Nottington saw him get out of that, they were automatically distrustful and watched him like he was white trash. The Town Car put the people over here at ease, as did the dress slacks and the button down shirt, even if they weren't his style. The leather bomber jacket he'd picked up last year helped, too. But the shoes really did the trick, real leather dress shoes the guys had no end of fun ribbing him about. But they were comfortable, even if they were Italian. A lucky find in a 10 1/2, still in the box. With those, no one really paid much attention to him at all, just another office worker out doing his Christmas shopping at NottingTown Center.
He watched to see which row the Infiniti would turn down to look for the closest parking spot. He knew her type, in such a hurry that she wouldn't walk an extra 50 feet even though it would have been faster to park out in the boondocks and hike than fight for a closer space. But that gave him time to hunt, too. He shadowed her one aisle over and slightly behind as she trolled the lot for a space. Four rows later, she finally had some luck.
As she pulled in, he slowed down as though he was scoping out someone just coming out of the mall to see where they would go. What he was really doing was getting into position to listen as she got out of her car. What surprised him was when the car just in front of her spot pulled out without looking. And before he could even think about taking the empty space, she drove straight through and slammed the Infiniti into park, blocking him out. She didn't even notice, not a wave or shrug or anything, just jumped out of her car and rushed toward an obscure side entrance to the mall, clutching her rabbit fur jacket tightly around her. The receding click, click, click of her heels on the pavement left him stunned. He hoped the wind blew straight up her tailored skirt and gave her a chill, the witch. It'd probably just warm her up. Then he saw the Norman Industries parking decal on her window. That meant she was fair game.
He also had heard what he had wanted to, or rather he had not heard. He hadn't heard the distinctive beep-beep of an alarm being set. So he dropped the Town Car into reverse and raced backwards to the head of the row. If he hurried, he might steal the spot behind her while the line of cars on the row were stopped dead waiting for the another SUV, a white Expedition, that really had followed someone out from the door and was now blocking the row, oblivious to the open space twenty feet away. He shot straight back like an arrow singing the song that had been stuck in his head all day, "You better watch out, you better not cry..."
That was the other thing he loved about the Town Car, it had great pickup even in reverse. The seats were the perfect height to rest his arm while he looked over his shoulder and steered. He whipped out into the lane where the row ended, braked and slid the lever into drive with barely a pause, then accelerated down the next row, turning every once in a while to keep an eye on his target and make sure she hadn't forgotten something.
Miracle of miracles, the space she had pulled through was still open. The lazy SOB down the way was just easing into his spot to a chorus of horns behind him. Rob slid past the opening he wanted and backed in. That would make getting out easier. This place was a zoo. He turned back to track his target. She was just disappearing through the glass doors. That should give him a few minutes at least.
He waited a minute to let the angry traffic disperse behind him, waving two cars on when they spotted him in his car. He didn't really want people hanging around.
Normally, he would have put the Town Car in the next set of rows out after noting where the Infiniti had parked. Then, as he walked down the row toward the mall, he would have stumbled, bumping the SUV as he passed. If no alarm went off, he was in business. Still, he would have kept going until he was just about to cross to the mall itself, then snap his fingers and turn around, like he had forgotten something. Instead of going back to his own car, he would stop at his target and test the door. Open and he was in business. Locked, and he would look puzzled, then start looking around for his car, like he had mistaken it, then head back to the Town Car to try again.
Being right behind her made things easier. He could just bump her car as he walked beside it. No alarm and he was right there to test the door. The good thing was the Infiniti was high enough that it would shield him from anyone coming out of the mall. The risk was she came back out and he didn't see her. Then he was screwed. He just hoped the mall was as busy as it had been when he had been in there less than an hour ago.
After a quick glance at the entrance to make sure she wasn't on her way back, Rob scanned the parking lot to see who might be watching. Looked clear. So he got out and headed between the cars. He stumbled, steadying himself on the back corner of the Infiniti. No alarm sounded. So far, so good. The windows were dark, drug dealer dark, so he couldn't see in. He took another couple steps until he was between the Infiniti and the iridescent blue Acura next to it, then bent down as though to tie his shoe and lifted the handle of the rear passenger side door. He felt the distinctive click as it unlatched. She really had been in a hurry.
He eased the door open and peered inside. Bags everywhere. They filled the back seat, spilling onto the floor-boards. He thought he'd hit the jackpot until he noticed they were all the same tan plastic. That's when he noticed Whole Foods stamped across the side. What the hell? Who went grocery shopping before they went to the mall? That was just stupid. Or was it? Who would steal groceries? Well, he would for one. He took a quick glance into the storage space behind the back seat. Then his eyes really did widen. This time there were boxes and bags of all different sizes and colors filling where the third row of seats would be. A quick glance into the passenger seat showed more of the same in the foot well. This woman must be on a one day Christmas shopping marathon. Amazing.
This required a re-think in plans. Normally, he would pick a promising bag or two. He'd climb in, open the opposite door and drop them on the ground. Then he'd get out, pull the same head for the entrance and forget something trick after a few cars, turn back and pick up the bags by their handles on stride between cars. Simple. No one saw him getting out of a car with bags, which was suspicious, he just appeared with them as he emerged between rows. No one noticed anything.
This was too much stuff for that. Then he remembered something he'd seen earlier that day and hadn't really thought much about. It was a perfect way to get all this into the Lincoln without anyone thinking a thing. He slipped out of the Infiniti and walked back to the Town Car. He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket, one he'd gotten a few years ago but no longer had the money to keep active. Didn't matter. He opened it up, pretended to dial a number and put it to his ear while opened his trunk.
"Hey, honey. Yeah, I found it. Took me a while, but I'm right behind you." He opened the hatch the SUV. "Ok, I'll take this load home with me and start wrapping." He held the phone as he casually grabbed the first set of bags and transferred them into his trunk. "No, you keep shopping. Did you remember something for Timmy? Uh, huh. What about Aunt Martha? Oh, she'll like that."Quickly, he was down the big boxes. And he still had a ton of room in his trunk. He pressed the phone between his shoulder and ear to free up both hands. "What time are the Fletchers coming tonight? 8 o'clock. I'll start the oven when I get home. 350. Right." Having emptied the cargo compartment, he closed the hatch and moved to the rear door, sparing a glance toward the entrance. Still all clear. "Oh, tell Jim I'll do Santa again this year. No, it's not a problem. I really do look forward to it." He was transferring bags of groceries into his back seat now three at a time now. It was going quickly. "I figure we can do that after the kids go to bed. Yeah, I know, but I have my tools this time. It shouldn't take too long to put together. Really, it will be fine." He went around and began emptying the other side. "Don't forget my mother comes tomorrow at noon. I know. I told her not to bring it this year. I know. I know." The back done, he moved to the front passenger door for the finale. Before he grabbed up all the bags, he checked the ashtray for money, and found twenties stashed like the ones he kept for tolls on the turnpike. He quickly stuffed them into his pants pocket. "She said she can take the kids for a few day before New Years, so we can head up to the lake. Yes, I remember. The black one. You definitely have to pack that." He shut the Infiniti's door and looked up. No rabbit fur coat, no mall security, no one paying any attention to him. He wandered back toward the Lincoln, wrapping up his imaginary conversation. "Ok. Love you too. See you soon. Bye." He clicked the phone shut, closed his trunk and got into the Town Car, now stuffed with gifts and groceries.
He started humming merrily, then singing as the tune once again caught in his head, "...better not pout, I'm telling you why..."
It took him near thirty minutes just to get to the highway through all the mall traffic. The worst was trying to get by the Starbucks with all the cars waiting in the drive-thru. Once he hit the county line, the number of cars dropped off to nearly nothing. Even the Super Wal-Mart was only half full, and they were having a sale. Not many people from York County were out shopping, not since they closed the Angled-Iron factory. It was still unbelievable to him that Norman Industries had shuttered the doors and laid off the last thousand workers on the day before Thanksgiving but had given everyone bonuses at the new company headquarters one county over. Norman had crossed into York county a couple years ago and in a hostile takeover bought up Angled-Iron, which was thriving, only to scale it back, then close it down and write it off. The corporate clones could still afford to fill their SUV's with gifts. His people could barely fill their pickups with gas. Their jobs had been sent to Norman's holdings overseas. Just didn't seem right.
He set the cruise control to just at the speed limit. The last thing he wanted was the sheriff pulling him over with a car full of expensive loot. He glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard. 3:30. Tucker and John should be there by now. Even with the time it would take them to do some trades and divvy up the gifts, he would have enough time to head over to Kirkley to get rid of the last stuff before he headed home. A long day. But Maryanne would be waiting. He just hoped he had something in the trunk she would like.
From the highway, he took the exit onto Business 47 into Locks. That was a cruel joke from the past. Not many businesses left on the main drag now. When the mall in Nottington opened a few years ago, the mom and pops that hadn't folded when Wal-Mart had moved in once again felt the squeeze. Then came the Home Depot, the Best Buy, the Target, the Borders, the chain restaurants and the Bed, Bath and Beyond. That pretty much folded up the last of the local businesses. Now all the money went to Nottington, a planned community the signs all said, while York County struggled to come up with money for its schools, its cops, and its future. Unemployment was running almost thirty percent. That went to more like seventy percent when you talked about underemployment.
Rob drove past all the empty lots and peeling "for lease" signs in front of boarded up businesses and warehouses in what had once been the business district of Locks. The U-Haul, the Touchless car wash, the People's Gas and the 7-Eleven were the only going concerns he passed in the two miles from the highway, if you didn't count the VFW and the Kentucky Fried. He pulled into the parking lot of the long-bankrupt Scotty's. There were weeds sprouting from the cracks in the asphalt. He pulled around to where the lumberyard used to be on the side of the building, half hidden by the rows of tan cinderblock storage units with orange roll-up doors of the U-Store-It that had bought out the front parcel. He spotted John's beat up Bronco and Tucker's old Ranger parked under the fading yellow and black Sure-Wood Lumber sign near the back of the deserted building. He eased the Town Car toward them, then pivoted it in a lineless parking space and backed it up the rest of the way.
Both men were standing in front of a blackened fifty-gallon drum, warming their hands over the low fire inside. John was in bright, Coca-Cola red pants with fluffy white trim and a camouflage jacket over a white T-shirt, his gut protruding so much now that the jacket hung over the pants like an army tent. He'd already raided the cooler in the Ranger for a beer. Tucker was in his brown work pants and boots with the plain brown sweatshirt he always wore with the hood up and his hands stuffed in the pockets. That man was always cold.
Rob flicked the switch that powered down his window. "Hey boys, how's it going?"
John strode up to the car, Coors in hand. Leaning his elbow on the top of the door, he peered into the back seat. "Jesus, Rob, are those groceries? What'd you do, stick up the Piggly Wiggly?"
"Very funny. And watch the paint. Wait till you see what's in back." He hit the switch that popped the trunk, and got out. Tucker moved up to the corner of the building to keep a lookout. John ambled around to the back.
"Whoa, Tucker, come take look at this," John called from behind the Town Car. "I thought you said to be careful, Rob. How many of their cars did you hit?"
"Three," Rob answered. "Most of this stuff is from the last one, including the groceries."
Tucker came around the open trunk. "Whoa, sweet. You keeping that laptop? My oldest, Deb, could really use one for school."
"Share and share alike. Maryanne sees me come home with that, she'll know something's up. I don't suppose either of you picked up a Wii though."
John and Tucker exchanged a smile. "This dog picked up four of them," John said.
"I'll trade you one of those for the Dell." Rob said.
"No problem, Rob," Tucker replied. "John's got the rest of my list." He moved off to the corner of the building to keep watch on the main road while John and Rob started the transfer.
"I thought these were impossible to find. How'd he get so many?" Rob asked once Tucker was out of earshot.
"He ran some return scam with Best Buy. Since they put in that Bed, Bath and Beyond next to it, he said it was easy this year."
"Best Buy has a ton of people in their lot. He shouldn't be hitting the same store more than once."
"Don't worry, he's not. He waits for something big that someone stashes while they run to Bed, Bath, a computer or something. He looks like a UPS guy anyway. So, he grabs it, throws it in the Ranger and drives over to the store in Springfield."
"That's like fifty miles," Rob said.
"Yeah, but no one knows him there. He's being cautious like you said. Anyway, he takes it back, no receipt, which is exchange only. Then he convinces the girl to issue him gift cards as his refund, you know, the $100 ones still attached to the cardboard, instead of putting it all on one like they usually do. Says he'll give them out to the family instead. So now he's got like 20 of these things. He heads back to Nottington, and waits until he sees someone walking into the store with something he wants, something impossible to get like a Wii. He approaches them in the parking lot and asks if anything's wrong with it. No, the wife sent this guy out for an X-box or something else. The guy grabbed the wrong thing, probably what he wanted for himself. So Tucker offers him a deal, three of the gift cards for it when it's worth maybe two and a half."
"And people go for that?"
"Once he tells them how long the lines are inside. Sometimes he has to go up to four"
"Why doesn't he just wait and buy it himself after it's returned."
"They've got a waiting list for this stuff, even the returns. Man, you definitely don't have kids. He does the Toys-R-Us, too, using the same Best Buy cards, anywhere that has something hot and hard to come by."
"So how do they know he's not ripping them off, that he didn't just steal the unactivated card himself?" Rob asked.
"He offers to go in with them and have the cards scanned. Only about one in three take him up on it, though." John laughed at Rob's raised eyebrow. "Man, this is Tucker. He's got that whole trust thing going. The man marries people on Sundays."
Rob stopped what he was doing and stared at John.
"You didn't know?" John laughed. "He's ordained, Church of Divine Mercy or some such outfit. All legit through the mail. He'll do you and Maryanne if you ever make an honest woman out of her."
Rob just shook his head and smiled. "You two never cease to amaze me. I take it you're still doing the Santa thing."
"I'm telling you no one looks twice at Santa walking out to a car and filling up his big, red bag with stuff. You should try it."
"You need the right build for it," Rob replied, patting his nearly absent belly. "Hey, you still got that stash of Wal-Mart bags?"
"Yeah, let me pop the back."
They spent the next several minutes sorting through the groceries, each man taking the items he needed and putting them into a bag, occasionally holding something up for Tucker to check out. Anything none of them wanted, they put into separate bags and loaded onto one side of Rob's trunk.
"Why the hell do people buy this stuff," John asked. "Imported French mustard, organic ketchup, vegan chicken broth, free-trade Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee, whatever that is."
"You should try that," Rob said. "It's pretty good."
"It's also like $34 bucks a bag. Thanks, I'll stick with Maxwell House. But I will take that Italian hot cocoa, and those fancy dog treats for Buddy."
"Guess someone else gets a treat this year," Rob said as he looked at the coffee. "You mind if I take the ham. Maryanne asked for a turkey, but I'll tell her it was on sale."
"Tell her you won a raffle at work," John suggested. "Might be more believable. You done with those Whole Food bags? I'll start burning them."
Rob passed the empty bags to John, who dropped them in the barrel one by one. The smoke became thick, black and acrid. Next they went through the other bags, burning the receipts as they went and combining things into fewer bags and burning the empties. Nothing to tie things back to their original owners.
"I don't get some of the things these people give as gifts," John said as he sorted through the last items in the Bronco. "I mean, this year I got a bag with a dozen nail clipper sets in it and another dozen things of perfume, all exactly the same. Forty bucks a pop, if you can believe it. That's like a thousand dollars in crap gifts."
"Must be some manager shopping for his staff. What perfume?"
"Uh, Covet," John said, turning his head to read the box, "by Sarah Jessica Parker. It's not even in a bottle."
"My sister-in-law might like that," Rob said, setting one aside. "I know where to get rid of the rest. Put that bag over here."
"Oow, looky here, Victoria's Secret," John said, dangling the pink bag from a finger. "Maybe you've found just the right thing to make your holiday special. Can't you just see Maryanne in this?" He reached in and held a see-through, red lace negligee up to his shoulders and pretended to model. "I know I can."
"Thanks for that visual, John," Rob said, punching his arm. "Not really what I was thinking for her this year. What about Kelly?"
"She wouldn't fit into two of these, not since she was 19. Hey, Tucker," John called across the parking lot, holding it higher. "You want for Beth?" Tucker considered, then nodded and went back to watching the road.
"Looks like someone's Christmas will be merry and bright," John said as dropped the garment back into the bag and stashed it in one of the cargo boxes in the Ranger's bed. "Looks like that's about it. Oh, I almost forgot." He dug back into the bottom of the big, red sack sitting in the back of the Bronco and came out with a small, black jewelry box. "I saw this and thought of you."
Rob pulled the box open. Inside was a pair of marquis cut sapphire earrings with a matching pendant circled with diamonds. Simple but stunningly elegant. "I can't take these, John. What about Kelly?"
"I give her these, she'll wonder which of her girlfriends I'm sleeping with. No, they're for you. I've already talked to Tucker. Share and share alike, right?"
Rob closed the box and tucked it in his jacket pocket. "Thanks, John, she'll love these."
"Tell her they're fake or she'll never wear them." He looked down at the paper in his hand. "I think that covers me and Tucker. You got everyone on your list?"
Rob nodded. "It's all in the back seat. Thanks for loading up the Wii. The niece and nephew will love that."
"Looks like all the kids get one this year," John said as he closed the Tucker's cargo box then the back to the Bronco. "It'll be nice not to see them disappointed for once."
"You ever wonder about the kids of the people who bought this stuff?" Rob asked.
"Not really. I mean, charity starts at home, right? Their parents just report it stolen and charge up more on the gold card. Hell, their insurance probably covers it. Besides, these kids all have everything they ever wanted, Razr cell phones, video iPods, wireless laptops, Halo 3. They can use a dose of disappointment in their lives. Just means their parents will have a longer night tonight figuring out what to do, like we always used to have to."
Rob smiled. The big man always had logic, even if it was twisted. "Anything else to go in the trunk? I'll drop the rest of this in Kirkley. I'm stopping by that live broadcast that Rock 101 has setup. You want one of their new bumper stickers or something?"
"Sure, grab me one of those hats with the concert logo if they have one. The boy might like that in his stocking. If not that, anything else will work. I'll drop by sometime tonight." John craned his head over Rob's shoulder. "Uh, oh."
Rob turned to see Tucker headed back toward them pumping his fist in the air.
"Sheriff's coming," John cried. "Quick, Rob, crack a beer."
While Rob closed the trunk, which automatically latched and slowly set in place, John raced over to the cooler in the Ranger's bed and tossed a can to Rob, who caught it deftly. Rob had never seen the big man move so fast. Before Rob popped the top, John tossed another to Tucker who was jogging up. Then they circled the barrel.
A minute later, the cruiser pulled around the side of the building then right up beside them as they were sipping their beers and warming their hands over the fire. The window rolled down. "What are you boys up to?"
"Hiding out from our wives and getting a little R&R before the family circus starts," John answered, raising his beer.
"Rob." The deputy nodded in acknowledgement. "I see you're still driving Earl's beautiful green Town Car."
"Taking her out for her a cruise, just like I promised the old man," Rob replied. "Got to keep her in shape."
"I could always take her off your hands if you're having trouble with that," the deputy said. "I hear you need the money. What do you say to ten thousand, cash?"
"Same as last time, Andy, no thanks. I'm not selling my birthright. Besides I hear you're transferring over to Nottington in January. What's that, a signing bonus?"
"You know how things are, Rob." Andy answered somewhat sheepishly.
"No," Rob shook his head, "I don't."
"So what drags you out into the cold tonight, Andy?" John asked sarcastically, taking Rob's cue to get rid of him. "On a donut run for the station?"
Andy scowled. "Can it, John. You know, I could run you in. You boys aren't supposed to be out here."
"On Christmas Eve?" John laughed. "You must be joking. You striking for a quick promotion? Or you angling to be a rent-a-cop supervisor over at Norman?"
The deputy's scowl deepened. "You're just lucky it's Christmas, little man. Consider yourselves warned. I come back around here in fifteen minutes and I want that fire out and you three gone. Got it?"
None of them moved. The cruiser did a quick three-point turn and sped away.
"To run us in, that guy would have to get his fat butt out of the car and do some real work. That just might wind him." John laughed, rubbing his hands over the fire. Now it was getting cold. Might even snow by the look of the sky.
"We need to wrap it up anyway." Rob said. "I've still got drop-offs to make. Either of you need money?"
"I'm good," John said.
"Could you spot me ten for gas?" Tucker asked.
Rob peeled off a twenty from the wad in his pocket. "Keep it."
"Cool." Tucker nodded. "Thanks."
"Last thing," Rob said. "Our story."
"Yeah, we know," John said. "Same as last year."
"We've got to get this right," Rob reminded him. "Our women talk."
"Don't sweat it, Rob" Tucker replied. "We've got it down." He poured the remains of his largely untouched beer into the barrel, then climbed into his Ranger. Rob and John followed suit with their beers and cars. The barrel hissed and steamed, smelling like a bad night at the Boar's Head.
"See you in a bit," Rob called to John just before he pulled away.
John called back, "Give the boys my regards if you see them."
As he pulled the Town Car back out of the parking lot, Rob started singing again, "...he's making a list, checking twice..."
When he'd first met John and Tucker, they'd been working the Super Wal-Mart, picking the easiest cars to hit, the ones farthest out, the older ones, the Jeeps and ragtops, the ones with frazzled mothers running in just for a minute, the ones with stuff in the foot wells covered with towels. Back then, they'd worked mostly after dark. He'd caught John red-handed in the Charger one night before Christmas a couple years back, right after the first layoffs at Angled-Iron. Once he'd figured out what John and Tucker were up to, it didn't take him long to convince them that they were targeting the wrong people. Most of the people they were hitting were in the same position they were with little or no money, just wanting to make their kids happy for Christmas even if they never knew the cost. He changed all that.
Back on the highway, Rob headed toward Kirkley, about 20 minutes farther up the road. It was bigger than Locks and the county seat. There was enough agriculture in that part of York county to keep its businesses going. They even had lights up on Elm Street that were just coming on as he drove into town. Rob didn't get up there often, so not many people knew him.
First, he headed for the Rock 101 broadcast van in front of the Applebee's by the Family Dollar. They would closing up soon. He really wanted to see about one of those hats for John. When he pulled up they were playing Springsteen's version of the song in his head, "...gonna find out whose naughty and nice..."
He popped the trunk to the Town Car, grabbed two bags of toys at random and closed it. The on-air personalities looked pretty tired. They'd been broadcasting around the county for five straight days trying to meet their goal for toys for the underprivileged kids. Seemed like there were a lot more of them this year, kids not toys.
He walked up to the donation table and set the bags down. "Here you go, hope it helps."
The busty blonde in the tight T-shirt with the station logo looked into the bags and her eyes went wide. "Wow, you sure you want to donate all this. When Rob nodded, she called over to one of the DJ's, "Harris, come check this stuff out."
"Just doing my part," Rob mumbled sheepishly. "Sounded like you were a bit behind."
The DJ wandered over with a Styrofoam cup filled with steaming coffee that looked like it hadn't quite done the job for him in a couple days. He riffled through the bags. "Oh, wow, this is great. The kids will love this stuff. This might just put us over, man. Hey, can you stick around until the next song is over. I'd like to do a spot on-air with you."
"Wish I could, but I've got to get home." Rob pulled his thumb back toward the highway.
The DJ nodded as though he understood. "Hey, before you take off, you want anything? We've got a few CDs left."
"You have any of those concert hats you're always talking about on your morning show, you know the one from the fall?"
"Oh, man, we ran out of those Thursday. Wait. I think I know where there's one in the broadcast truck. Hang on." He took off at a jog to the van, disappeared inside for a minute and then emerged with a stylish, black ball cap with a slick red and orange logo. "Last one. Had to cash in a favor with our sound engineer. Actually, he doesn't know it yet, so enjoy."
"It's not for me," Rob responded, "but I know someone this will make very happy. Thanks."
"You bet. Hey, can I at least get your name?"
Rob pretended to think for a second, "You know, I'd rather not. Just say it came from an someone down in Locks who still cares about the people in this county."
"You got it, man. Have a Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you, too." Rob headed back to his car.
He made the rounds through Kirkley, dropping off single bags of toys and some of the miscellaneous other items at Goodwill and a few local charities that were collecting for people in need. Each time he declined to give his name or accept a receipt, just dropped things off and said, "Merry Christmas." At the Salvation Army, he added one other thing, dropping the bills from the Infiniti into the collection bucket. The gray-haired bell-wringer smiled broadly when he saw the roll with a $20 outside, probably not realizing it was all $20's. He got a hearty "Thank you, and God Bless" for that one.
After that he dropped the perfume, manicure sets and other clothing at the York Women's shelter, along with the final two bags of toys and the extra Wii with a large selection of games. He knew too well that there would be a lot of women showing up there with their kids between now and New Years. The woman at the front desk smiled gratefully for the donations and gave him a wink.
Finally, he hit the food bank with the groceries. By then he was in a bit of a hurry. He still needed to get to the Piggly Wiggly in Locks before they closed at 6. That left him an hour. At the last minute, he snagged the coffee out of one of the bags and stuck it with a toy he'd set aside earlier, then dropped the other food with the high school teens manning the donation table as part of their volunteer work. They seemed excited by the quality of stuff he was dropping off, not the standard cans of green beans and creamed corn that people didn't want and cleaned out of their cupboards this time of year. They began chattering about just whose boxes to put which things into before he even left.
He made his way back to the highway, humming and singing, "...he sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake..." He was almost done for the night.
By the time he pulled into the Piggly Wiggly parking lot back in Locks, the first flurries had started to fall. Under a white canvas tent open in the front where they had been selling Christmas trees a week ago was a long fold-up table with several cardboard barrels behind it. Also back there were two Marines in dress blues trying not to look cold, and mostly succeeding, though Rob knew better. There was a "Toys for Tots" banner hanging from the table.
Rob retrieved the last toy from the trunk along with the coffee and ambled up to the table. It wasn't the most expensive toy from the haul but the one he thought a child enjoy for a long time, a Lego Ultimate Super-Set. He peered past the two Marines into the barrels, which were maybe a third full. He recognized the Marines from around, but couldn't remember their names. He could tell they recognized him.
"Evening, gentlemen," Rob said. "Thought I'd drop this by before you folded up shop. I hope you know someone who can use this." He offered the Legos.
"Thank you, sir," the younger one replied, accepting it. "Nancy will know just who to give that to."
"When you see her, tell her I'll try to sneak out later and help her wrap stuff for an hour or two. She set up at the Baptist Church again this year?"
"That's right, sir. We're supposed to take this stuff over there in about fifteen minutes. We may see you there, depending on how late it is."
"Well, here's something for you, too, just a little thank you." He held out the Jamaican coffee.
"You shouldn't have, sir." Both Marines smiled. They were still young enough to enjoy presents themselves, but old enough to know good coffee when they saw it.
"My pleasure," Rob said. "By the way, if you talk to the guys over in the 1/3, tell them the people here haven't forgotten about them and still want them home."
"That's King's Regiment isn't it?" the second,slightly older Marine asked. Rob nodded.
"We may see them sooner than you think," the soldier continued. "They cut our orders yesterday, we head back after New Years."
Rob nodded knowingly. "Oh, yeah," he said, before he turned to go. "John said to say 'hello.'"
"How is Sgt. Little?" the second Marine asked.
"Doing ok. Glad to be home with Kelly and the kids. I think he misses things sometimes, though."
"He ever needs work, we'd be glad to have him back," the first man said.
"I'll pass that on, but I'm not sure he misses things that much," Rob laughed. "You boys take care and stay warm. Save some of that coffee for Nancy."
"Will do, sir," they replied.
As he pulled back out onto Business 47, Rob saw the snow had begun to fall in earnest, accumulating on the grass but mostly melting on the road. He'd better watch out for ice. Happy to be going home, he started singing again, "...he knows if you've been bad or good..."
When he pulled into the driveway, Maryanne's car was already parked behind the Charger. He grabbed up the three bags of groceries. He would come out after dinner for the gifts. But just to be sure, he locked the Town Car and thumbed the alarm. He'd move it back into the garage later.
Inside the door, he spotted Maryanne's uniform hanging by the front hall closet. The TV wasn't on and it smelled like she'd started a fire which meant she was crashed, waiting for him after a hard day. She was not likely to be a Merry Maid tonight. He dropped the groceries in the kitchen doorway and crept up behind her in the living room. "Hey, lady," he said over the back of the recliner.
"Hey, Rob. How was work?" She sounded tired, but had a steaming mug set on the table beside her that smelled like she'd broken out the mulling spices. A fire crackled in the fireplace.
"You know, same ole, same ole. And you?"
"Mrs. Dane decided I was 'the cleaning woman' again. Like she doesn't remember my name after 2 years, at least in front of her friends. Didn't even give me a tip this year. And she wants me back first thing the day after Christmas for some special service that includes the windows."
"Hey," he said, trying to brighten her mood, "I won the raffle at work. One of those spiral-cut honey hams you like so much. We'll have leftovers for a week even after the family leaves. So I didn't get the turkey."
"Did you get everything else?" Maryanne asked.
"Everything but the eggs. Place was cleaned out. But I can run out later if you want."
"Mmm," was her only answer.
"Oh, and they let us out early, so I did the all Christmas shopping like I said I would. I got something for everybody. Found that perfume your sister's been on about since Thanksgiving. Everything is out in the car. Even got a hold of a Wii with some games for the kids. That's the one they've been wanting, right?"
"Yes, it is." Maryanne sat up and looked at him. "Rob, we can't afford all that."
"Don't worry, my paycheck covered everything. Plus King Distributing gives us a discount on all the stuff that come through their warehouse, so it's like paying wholesale. And they supply everybody. I just wanted everyone to be happy this year. We can wrap it after dinner if you want."
"That would be ok." She collapsed back into the chair. "Any word on whether they're going to pick you up this year?"
"Today was the last day, unless they get flooded with returns. Still not enough business to justify more full-time help. They said they might have more work next year, though."
"What about John and Tucker?"
"No luck there either." He saw how crestfallen she was, so he rubbed her shoulders. "Don't worry, baby, it's going to be all right."
"It's just nobody's got work this year," she said, fighting back the tears. "I thought it would be different once you were home, with all the training."
"Hey, honey." Rob sat on the arm of the recliner, cupped her chin in his hands and looked her in the eye. "They have it out for anyone who worked at Angled-Iron. Me, John, Tucker. After the protests, half the county got blacklisted by Norman Industries and anyone they have influence over, which is everyone in Nottington."
"I'm just afraid you'll join up again and go back." She was crying now.
"Shh." He held her head against his chest and stroked her hair. "No one's going anywhere, honey. My place is here now. When Dick King gets back in country, all this is going change."
She looked up at him, tears filling her eyes and threatening to spill over again. "Promise?"
"Promise," he reassured her. "Richard King is a power man. When he gets home, he'll set things right in this county and at Norman Industries. Right now, we should be happy. We have food and a roof and nice presents for everyone tomorrow. No one can take that away from us."
Maryanne sniffed back more tears and wiped her cheek. "Guess we all knew this was just a temporary, Christmas thing, anyway," she said trying not to sound disappointed.
Rob reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the jewelry box. "I was going to wait until tomorrow to give this to you, but..." He handed her the box.
She opened it slowly. "Oh, Rob, they're beautiful," she exclaimed. "How could you afford them?"
"I got a bonus and they were close-out," he said. "But they're the genuine article. Now you have some nice jewelry to wear when we get married, like you deserve."
"How did you know that sapphires were my favorite?" She was looking up at him with those beautiful doe eyes, on the verge of crying again for a different reason. She hugged him across the chair, almost toppling them both.
"Lucky guess," he said as he extracted himself and headed back to the kitchen. From the doorway he called over his shoulder, "How about I fix you up some of that soup you always like."
After he put away the groceries and got the soup started, he stared out the kitchen window and watched the beginnings of a genuine white Christmas. As he watched the snow drift down and cover the yard, he thought about John and Tucker, about Norman Industries and Dick King coming home. Until he did, Rob figured he might as well keep singing. The song stuck in his head had taken on the feel of an anthem. "Oh, you better watch out...."
He slammed on the brakes as the onyx land ark cut right in front of him from the access road and sped away through the parking lot. What the hell was that thing, an Armada? A Lexus LX? No, an Infiniti QX, the largest SUV on the market. And a woman driving. This had potential.
He didn't blow the horn like he wanted to, or give her a one-fingered salute as he would have almost any other day. It was Christmas. Instead he kept an eye on her and followed from a discreet distance. He made bets in his mind on where she was headed. Macy's? Nordstrom's? The Hamlet specialty shops? It didn't really matter. The only thing it might tell him is how long he would have.
He flicked the switch that rolled down all the Lincoln's windows and adjusted the mirrors so he had a better view all the way around. It was cool outside, in the forties, not what he thought of as cold. God, how he loved the Town Car. Power windows, power mirrors, power seats, power everything. And the heat was fantastic. Even had a seat warmer. The only thing his father had been able to leave him, even if it had killed the old man to do it. It was his prize now, one he kept polished and shined, a sparkling forest green. And it made all the difference this time of year. It was nothing like his old Charger in the driveway which was all primer, dents and rust. When the people in Nottington saw him get out of that, they were automatically distrustful and watched him like he was white trash. The Town Car put the people over here at ease, as did the dress slacks and the button down shirt, even if they weren't his style. The leather bomber jacket he'd picked up last year helped, too. But the shoes really did the trick, real leather dress shoes the guys had no end of fun ribbing him about. But they were comfortable, even if they were Italian. A lucky find in a 10 1/2, still in the box. With those, no one really paid much attention to him at all, just another office worker out doing his Christmas shopping at NottingTown Center.
He watched to see which row the Infiniti would turn down to look for the closest parking spot. He knew her type, in such a hurry that she wouldn't walk an extra 50 feet even though it would have been faster to park out in the boondocks and hike than fight for a closer space. But that gave him time to hunt, too. He shadowed her one aisle over and slightly behind as she trolled the lot for a space. Four rows later, she finally had some luck.
As she pulled in, he slowed down as though he was scoping out someone just coming out of the mall to see where they would go. What he was really doing was getting into position to listen as she got out of her car. What surprised him was when the car just in front of her spot pulled out without looking. And before he could even think about taking the empty space, she drove straight through and slammed the Infiniti into park, blocking him out. She didn't even notice, not a wave or shrug or anything, just jumped out of her car and rushed toward an obscure side entrance to the mall, clutching her rabbit fur jacket tightly around her. The receding click, click, click of her heels on the pavement left him stunned. He hoped the wind blew straight up her tailored skirt and gave her a chill, the witch. It'd probably just warm her up. Then he saw the Norman Industries parking decal on her window. That meant she was fair game.
He also had heard what he had wanted to, or rather he had not heard. He hadn't heard the distinctive beep-beep of an alarm being set. So he dropped the Town Car into reverse and raced backwards to the head of the row. If he hurried, he might steal the spot behind her while the line of cars on the row were stopped dead waiting for the another SUV, a white Expedition, that really had followed someone out from the door and was now blocking the row, oblivious to the open space twenty feet away. He shot straight back like an arrow singing the song that had been stuck in his head all day, "You better watch out, you better not cry..."
That was the other thing he loved about the Town Car, it had great pickup even in reverse. The seats were the perfect height to rest his arm while he looked over his shoulder and steered. He whipped out into the lane where the row ended, braked and slid the lever into drive with barely a pause, then accelerated down the next row, turning every once in a while to keep an eye on his target and make sure she hadn't forgotten something.
Miracle of miracles, the space she had pulled through was still open. The lazy SOB down the way was just easing into his spot to a chorus of horns behind him. Rob slid past the opening he wanted and backed in. That would make getting out easier. This place was a zoo. He turned back to track his target. She was just disappearing through the glass doors. That should give him a few minutes at least.
He waited a minute to let the angry traffic disperse behind him, waving two cars on when they spotted him in his car. He didn't really want people hanging around.
Normally, he would have put the Town Car in the next set of rows out after noting where the Infiniti had parked. Then, as he walked down the row toward the mall, he would have stumbled, bumping the SUV as he passed. If no alarm went off, he was in business. Still, he would have kept going until he was just about to cross to the mall itself, then snap his fingers and turn around, like he had forgotten something. Instead of going back to his own car, he would stop at his target and test the door. Open and he was in business. Locked, and he would look puzzled, then start looking around for his car, like he had mistaken it, then head back to the Town Car to try again.
Being right behind her made things easier. He could just bump her car as he walked beside it. No alarm and he was right there to test the door. The good thing was the Infiniti was high enough that it would shield him from anyone coming out of the mall. The risk was she came back out and he didn't see her. Then he was screwed. He just hoped the mall was as busy as it had been when he had been in there less than an hour ago.
After a quick glance at the entrance to make sure she wasn't on her way back, Rob scanned the parking lot to see who might be watching. Looked clear. So he got out and headed between the cars. He stumbled, steadying himself on the back corner of the Infiniti. No alarm sounded. So far, so good. The windows were dark, drug dealer dark, so he couldn't see in. He took another couple steps until he was between the Infiniti and the iridescent blue Acura next to it, then bent down as though to tie his shoe and lifted the handle of the rear passenger side door. He felt the distinctive click as it unlatched. She really had been in a hurry.
He eased the door open and peered inside. Bags everywhere. They filled the back seat, spilling onto the floor-boards. He thought he'd hit the jackpot until he noticed they were all the same tan plastic. That's when he noticed Whole Foods stamped across the side. What the hell? Who went grocery shopping before they went to the mall? That was just stupid. Or was it? Who would steal groceries? Well, he would for one. He took a quick glance into the storage space behind the back seat. Then his eyes really did widen. This time there were boxes and bags of all different sizes and colors filling where the third row of seats would be. A quick glance into the passenger seat showed more of the same in the foot well. This woman must be on a one day Christmas shopping marathon. Amazing.
This required a re-think in plans. Normally, he would pick a promising bag or two. He'd climb in, open the opposite door and drop them on the ground. Then he'd get out, pull the same head for the entrance and forget something trick after a few cars, turn back and pick up the bags by their handles on stride between cars. Simple. No one saw him getting out of a car with bags, which was suspicious, he just appeared with them as he emerged between rows. No one noticed anything.
This was too much stuff for that. Then he remembered something he'd seen earlier that day and hadn't really thought much about. It was a perfect way to get all this into the Lincoln without anyone thinking a thing. He slipped out of the Infiniti and walked back to the Town Car. He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket, one he'd gotten a few years ago but no longer had the money to keep active. Didn't matter. He opened it up, pretended to dial a number and put it to his ear while opened his trunk.
"Hey, honey. Yeah, I found it. Took me a while, but I'm right behind you." He opened the hatch the SUV. "Ok, I'll take this load home with me and start wrapping." He held the phone as he casually grabbed the first set of bags and transferred them into his trunk. "No, you keep shopping. Did you remember something for Timmy? Uh, huh. What about Aunt Martha? Oh, she'll like that."Quickly, he was down the big boxes. And he still had a ton of room in his trunk. He pressed the phone between his shoulder and ear to free up both hands. "What time are the Fletchers coming tonight? 8 o'clock. I'll start the oven when I get home. 350. Right." Having emptied the cargo compartment, he closed the hatch and moved to the rear door, sparing a glance toward the entrance. Still all clear. "Oh, tell Jim I'll do Santa again this year. No, it's not a problem. I really do look forward to it." He was transferring bags of groceries into his back seat now three at a time now. It was going quickly. "I figure we can do that after the kids go to bed. Yeah, I know, but I have my tools this time. It shouldn't take too long to put together. Really, it will be fine." He went around and began emptying the other side. "Don't forget my mother comes tomorrow at noon. I know. I told her not to bring it this year. I know. I know." The back done, he moved to the front passenger door for the finale. Before he grabbed up all the bags, he checked the ashtray for money, and found twenties stashed like the ones he kept for tolls on the turnpike. He quickly stuffed them into his pants pocket. "She said she can take the kids for a few day before New Years, so we can head up to the lake. Yes, I remember. The black one. You definitely have to pack that." He shut the Infiniti's door and looked up. No rabbit fur coat, no mall security, no one paying any attention to him. He wandered back toward the Lincoln, wrapping up his imaginary conversation. "Ok. Love you too. See you soon. Bye." He clicked the phone shut, closed his trunk and got into the Town Car, now stuffed with gifts and groceries.
He started humming merrily, then singing as the tune once again caught in his head, "...better not pout, I'm telling you why..."
It took him near thirty minutes just to get to the highway through all the mall traffic. The worst was trying to get by the Starbucks with all the cars waiting in the drive-thru. Once he hit the county line, the number of cars dropped off to nearly nothing. Even the Super Wal-Mart was only half full, and they were having a sale. Not many people from York County were out shopping, not since they closed the Angled-Iron factory. It was still unbelievable to him that Norman Industries had shuttered the doors and laid off the last thousand workers on the day before Thanksgiving but had given everyone bonuses at the new company headquarters one county over. Norman had crossed into York county a couple years ago and in a hostile takeover bought up Angled-Iron, which was thriving, only to scale it back, then close it down and write it off. The corporate clones could still afford to fill their SUV's with gifts. His people could barely fill their pickups with gas. Their jobs had been sent to Norman's holdings overseas. Just didn't seem right.
He set the cruise control to just at the speed limit. The last thing he wanted was the sheriff pulling him over with a car full of expensive loot. He glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard. 3:30. Tucker and John should be there by now. Even with the time it would take them to do some trades and divvy up the gifts, he would have enough time to head over to Kirkley to get rid of the last stuff before he headed home. A long day. But Maryanne would be waiting. He just hoped he had something in the trunk she would like.
From the highway, he took the exit onto Business 47 into Locks. That was a cruel joke from the past. Not many businesses left on the main drag now. When the mall in Nottington opened a few years ago, the mom and pops that hadn't folded when Wal-Mart had moved in once again felt the squeeze. Then came the Home Depot, the Best Buy, the Target, the Borders, the chain restaurants and the Bed, Bath and Beyond. That pretty much folded up the last of the local businesses. Now all the money went to Nottington, a planned community the signs all said, while York County struggled to come up with money for its schools, its cops, and its future. Unemployment was running almost thirty percent. That went to more like seventy percent when you talked about underemployment.
Rob drove past all the empty lots and peeling "for lease" signs in front of boarded up businesses and warehouses in what had once been the business district of Locks. The U-Haul, the Touchless car wash, the People's Gas and the 7-Eleven were the only going concerns he passed in the two miles from the highway, if you didn't count the VFW and the Kentucky Fried. He pulled into the parking lot of the long-bankrupt Scotty's. There were weeds sprouting from the cracks in the asphalt. He pulled around to where the lumberyard used to be on the side of the building, half hidden by the rows of tan cinderblock storage units with orange roll-up doors of the U-Store-It that had bought out the front parcel. He spotted John's beat up Bronco and Tucker's old Ranger parked under the fading yellow and black Sure-Wood Lumber sign near the back of the deserted building. He eased the Town Car toward them, then pivoted it in a lineless parking space and backed it up the rest of the way.
Both men were standing in front of a blackened fifty-gallon drum, warming their hands over the low fire inside. John was in bright, Coca-Cola red pants with fluffy white trim and a camouflage jacket over a white T-shirt, his gut protruding so much now that the jacket hung over the pants like an army tent. He'd already raided the cooler in the Ranger for a beer. Tucker was in his brown work pants and boots with the plain brown sweatshirt he always wore with the hood up and his hands stuffed in the pockets. That man was always cold.
Rob flicked the switch that powered down his window. "Hey boys, how's it going?"
John strode up to the car, Coors in hand. Leaning his elbow on the top of the door, he peered into the back seat. "Jesus, Rob, are those groceries? What'd you do, stick up the Piggly Wiggly?"
"Very funny. And watch the paint. Wait till you see what's in back." He hit the switch that popped the trunk, and got out. Tucker moved up to the corner of the building to keep a lookout. John ambled around to the back.
"Whoa, Tucker, come take look at this," John called from behind the Town Car. "I thought you said to be careful, Rob. How many of their cars did you hit?"
"Three," Rob answered. "Most of this stuff is from the last one, including the groceries."
Tucker came around the open trunk. "Whoa, sweet. You keeping that laptop? My oldest, Deb, could really use one for school."
"Share and share alike. Maryanne sees me come home with that, she'll know something's up. I don't suppose either of you picked up a Wii though."
John and Tucker exchanged a smile. "This dog picked up four of them," John said.
"I'll trade you one of those for the Dell." Rob said.
"No problem, Rob," Tucker replied. "John's got the rest of my list." He moved off to the corner of the building to keep watch on the main road while John and Rob started the transfer.
"I thought these were impossible to find. How'd he get so many?" Rob asked once Tucker was out of earshot.
"He ran some return scam with Best Buy. Since they put in that Bed, Bath and Beyond next to it, he said it was easy this year."
"Best Buy has a ton of people in their lot. He shouldn't be hitting the same store more than once."
"Don't worry, he's not. He waits for something big that someone stashes while they run to Bed, Bath, a computer or something. He looks like a UPS guy anyway. So, he grabs it, throws it in the Ranger and drives over to the store in Springfield."
"That's like fifty miles," Rob said.
"Yeah, but no one knows him there. He's being cautious like you said. Anyway, he takes it back, no receipt, which is exchange only. Then he convinces the girl to issue him gift cards as his refund, you know, the $100 ones still attached to the cardboard, instead of putting it all on one like they usually do. Says he'll give them out to the family instead. So now he's got like 20 of these things. He heads back to Nottington, and waits until he sees someone walking into the store with something he wants, something impossible to get like a Wii. He approaches them in the parking lot and asks if anything's wrong with it. No, the wife sent this guy out for an X-box or something else. The guy grabbed the wrong thing, probably what he wanted for himself. So Tucker offers him a deal, three of the gift cards for it when it's worth maybe two and a half."
"And people go for that?"
"Once he tells them how long the lines are inside. Sometimes he has to go up to four"
"Why doesn't he just wait and buy it himself after it's returned."
"They've got a waiting list for this stuff, even the returns. Man, you definitely don't have kids. He does the Toys-R-Us, too, using the same Best Buy cards, anywhere that has something hot and hard to come by."
"So how do they know he's not ripping them off, that he didn't just steal the unactivated card himself?" Rob asked.
"He offers to go in with them and have the cards scanned. Only about one in three take him up on it, though." John laughed at Rob's raised eyebrow. "Man, this is Tucker. He's got that whole trust thing going. The man marries people on Sundays."
Rob stopped what he was doing and stared at John.
"You didn't know?" John laughed. "He's ordained, Church of Divine Mercy or some such outfit. All legit through the mail. He'll do you and Maryanne if you ever make an honest woman out of her."
Rob just shook his head and smiled. "You two never cease to amaze me. I take it you're still doing the Santa thing."
"I'm telling you no one looks twice at Santa walking out to a car and filling up his big, red bag with stuff. You should try it."
"You need the right build for it," Rob replied, patting his nearly absent belly. "Hey, you still got that stash of Wal-Mart bags?"
"Yeah, let me pop the back."
They spent the next several minutes sorting through the groceries, each man taking the items he needed and putting them into a bag, occasionally holding something up for Tucker to check out. Anything none of them wanted, they put into separate bags and loaded onto one side of Rob's trunk.
"Why the hell do people buy this stuff," John asked. "Imported French mustard, organic ketchup, vegan chicken broth, free-trade Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee, whatever that is."
"You should try that," Rob said. "It's pretty good."
"It's also like $34 bucks a bag. Thanks, I'll stick with Maxwell House. But I will take that Italian hot cocoa, and those fancy dog treats for Buddy."
"Guess someone else gets a treat this year," Rob said as he looked at the coffee. "You mind if I take the ham. Maryanne asked for a turkey, but I'll tell her it was on sale."
"Tell her you won a raffle at work," John suggested. "Might be more believable. You done with those Whole Food bags? I'll start burning them."
Rob passed the empty bags to John, who dropped them in the barrel one by one. The smoke became thick, black and acrid. Next they went through the other bags, burning the receipts as they went and combining things into fewer bags and burning the empties. Nothing to tie things back to their original owners.
"I don't get some of the things these people give as gifts," John said as he sorted through the last items in the Bronco. "I mean, this year I got a bag with a dozen nail clipper sets in it and another dozen things of perfume, all exactly the same. Forty bucks a pop, if you can believe it. That's like a thousand dollars in crap gifts."
"Must be some manager shopping for his staff. What perfume?"
"Uh, Covet," John said, turning his head to read the box, "by Sarah Jessica Parker. It's not even in a bottle."
"My sister-in-law might like that," Rob said, setting one aside. "I know where to get rid of the rest. Put that bag over here."
"Oow, looky here, Victoria's Secret," John said, dangling the pink bag from a finger. "Maybe you've found just the right thing to make your holiday special. Can't you just see Maryanne in this?" He reached in and held a see-through, red lace negligee up to his shoulders and pretended to model. "I know I can."
"Thanks for that visual, John," Rob said, punching his arm. "Not really what I was thinking for her this year. What about Kelly?"
"She wouldn't fit into two of these, not since she was 19. Hey, Tucker," John called across the parking lot, holding it higher. "You want for Beth?" Tucker considered, then nodded and went back to watching the road.
"Looks like someone's Christmas will be merry and bright," John said as dropped the garment back into the bag and stashed it in one of the cargo boxes in the Ranger's bed. "Looks like that's about it. Oh, I almost forgot." He dug back into the bottom of the big, red sack sitting in the back of the Bronco and came out with a small, black jewelry box. "I saw this and thought of you."
Rob pulled the box open. Inside was a pair of marquis cut sapphire earrings with a matching pendant circled with diamonds. Simple but stunningly elegant. "I can't take these, John. What about Kelly?"
"I give her these, she'll wonder which of her girlfriends I'm sleeping with. No, they're for you. I've already talked to Tucker. Share and share alike, right?"
Rob closed the box and tucked it in his jacket pocket. "Thanks, John, she'll love these."
"Tell her they're fake or she'll never wear them." He looked down at the paper in his hand. "I think that covers me and Tucker. You got everyone on your list?"
Rob nodded. "It's all in the back seat. Thanks for loading up the Wii. The niece and nephew will love that."
"Looks like all the kids get one this year," John said as he closed the Tucker's cargo box then the back to the Bronco. "It'll be nice not to see them disappointed for once."
"You ever wonder about the kids of the people who bought this stuff?" Rob asked.
"Not really. I mean, charity starts at home, right? Their parents just report it stolen and charge up more on the gold card. Hell, their insurance probably covers it. Besides, these kids all have everything they ever wanted, Razr cell phones, video iPods, wireless laptops, Halo 3. They can use a dose of disappointment in their lives. Just means their parents will have a longer night tonight figuring out what to do, like we always used to have to."
Rob smiled. The big man always had logic, even if it was twisted. "Anything else to go in the trunk? I'll drop the rest of this in Kirkley. I'm stopping by that live broadcast that Rock 101 has setup. You want one of their new bumper stickers or something?"
"Sure, grab me one of those hats with the concert logo if they have one. The boy might like that in his stocking. If not that, anything else will work. I'll drop by sometime tonight." John craned his head over Rob's shoulder. "Uh, oh."
Rob turned to see Tucker headed back toward them pumping his fist in the air.
"Sheriff's coming," John cried. "Quick, Rob, crack a beer."
While Rob closed the trunk, which automatically latched and slowly set in place, John raced over to the cooler in the Ranger's bed and tossed a can to Rob, who caught it deftly. Rob had never seen the big man move so fast. Before Rob popped the top, John tossed another to Tucker who was jogging up. Then they circled the barrel.
A minute later, the cruiser pulled around the side of the building then right up beside them as they were sipping their beers and warming their hands over the fire. The window rolled down. "What are you boys up to?"
"Hiding out from our wives and getting a little R&R before the family circus starts," John answered, raising his beer.
"Rob." The deputy nodded in acknowledgement. "I see you're still driving Earl's beautiful green Town Car."
"Taking her out for her a cruise, just like I promised the old man," Rob replied. "Got to keep her in shape."
"I could always take her off your hands if you're having trouble with that," the deputy said. "I hear you need the money. What do you say to ten thousand, cash?"
"Same as last time, Andy, no thanks. I'm not selling my birthright. Besides I hear you're transferring over to Nottington in January. What's that, a signing bonus?"
"You know how things are, Rob." Andy answered somewhat sheepishly.
"No," Rob shook his head, "I don't."
"So what drags you out into the cold tonight, Andy?" John asked sarcastically, taking Rob's cue to get rid of him. "On a donut run for the station?"
Andy scowled. "Can it, John. You know, I could run you in. You boys aren't supposed to be out here."
"On Christmas Eve?" John laughed. "You must be joking. You striking for a quick promotion? Or you angling to be a rent-a-cop supervisor over at Norman?"
The deputy's scowl deepened. "You're just lucky it's Christmas, little man. Consider yourselves warned. I come back around here in fifteen minutes and I want that fire out and you three gone. Got it?"
None of them moved. The cruiser did a quick three-point turn and sped away.
"To run us in, that guy would have to get his fat butt out of the car and do some real work. That just might wind him." John laughed, rubbing his hands over the fire. Now it was getting cold. Might even snow by the look of the sky.
"We need to wrap it up anyway." Rob said. "I've still got drop-offs to make. Either of you need money?"
"I'm good," John said.
"Could you spot me ten for gas?" Tucker asked.
Rob peeled off a twenty from the wad in his pocket. "Keep it."
"Cool." Tucker nodded. "Thanks."
"Last thing," Rob said. "Our story."
"Yeah, we know," John said. "Same as last year."
"We've got to get this right," Rob reminded him. "Our women talk."
"Don't sweat it, Rob" Tucker replied. "We've got it down." He poured the remains of his largely untouched beer into the barrel, then climbed into his Ranger. Rob and John followed suit with their beers and cars. The barrel hissed and steamed, smelling like a bad night at the Boar's Head.
"See you in a bit," Rob called to John just before he pulled away.
John called back, "Give the boys my regards if you see them."
As he pulled the Town Car back out of the parking lot, Rob started singing again, "...he's making a list, checking twice..."
When he'd first met John and Tucker, they'd been working the Super Wal-Mart, picking the easiest cars to hit, the ones farthest out, the older ones, the Jeeps and ragtops, the ones with frazzled mothers running in just for a minute, the ones with stuff in the foot wells covered with towels. Back then, they'd worked mostly after dark. He'd caught John red-handed in the Charger one night before Christmas a couple years back, right after the first layoffs at Angled-Iron. Once he'd figured out what John and Tucker were up to, it didn't take him long to convince them that they were targeting the wrong people. Most of the people they were hitting were in the same position they were with little or no money, just wanting to make their kids happy for Christmas even if they never knew the cost. He changed all that.
Back on the highway, Rob headed toward Kirkley, about 20 minutes farther up the road. It was bigger than Locks and the county seat. There was enough agriculture in that part of York county to keep its businesses going. They even had lights up on Elm Street that were just coming on as he drove into town. Rob didn't get up there often, so not many people knew him.
First, he headed for the Rock 101 broadcast van in front of the Applebee's by the Family Dollar. They would closing up soon. He really wanted to see about one of those hats for John. When he pulled up they were playing Springsteen's version of the song in his head, "...gonna find out whose naughty and nice..."
He popped the trunk to the Town Car, grabbed two bags of toys at random and closed it. The on-air personalities looked pretty tired. They'd been broadcasting around the county for five straight days trying to meet their goal for toys for the underprivileged kids. Seemed like there were a lot more of them this year, kids not toys.
He walked up to the donation table and set the bags down. "Here you go, hope it helps."
The busty blonde in the tight T-shirt with the station logo looked into the bags and her eyes went wide. "Wow, you sure you want to donate all this. When Rob nodded, she called over to one of the DJ's, "Harris, come check this stuff out."
"Just doing my part," Rob mumbled sheepishly. "Sounded like you were a bit behind."
The DJ wandered over with a Styrofoam cup filled with steaming coffee that looked like it hadn't quite done the job for him in a couple days. He riffled through the bags. "Oh, wow, this is great. The kids will love this stuff. This might just put us over, man. Hey, can you stick around until the next song is over. I'd like to do a spot on-air with you."
"Wish I could, but I've got to get home." Rob pulled his thumb back toward the highway.
The DJ nodded as though he understood. "Hey, before you take off, you want anything? We've got a few CDs left."
"You have any of those concert hats you're always talking about on your morning show, you know the one from the fall?"
"Oh, man, we ran out of those Thursday. Wait. I think I know where there's one in the broadcast truck. Hang on." He took off at a jog to the van, disappeared inside for a minute and then emerged with a stylish, black ball cap with a slick red and orange logo. "Last one. Had to cash in a favor with our sound engineer. Actually, he doesn't know it yet, so enjoy."
"It's not for me," Rob responded, "but I know someone this will make very happy. Thanks."
"You bet. Hey, can I at least get your name?"
Rob pretended to think for a second, "You know, I'd rather not. Just say it came from an someone down in Locks who still cares about the people in this county."
"You got it, man. Have a Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you, too." Rob headed back to his car.
He made the rounds through Kirkley, dropping off single bags of toys and some of the miscellaneous other items at Goodwill and a few local charities that were collecting for people in need. Each time he declined to give his name or accept a receipt, just dropped things off and said, "Merry Christmas." At the Salvation Army, he added one other thing, dropping the bills from the Infiniti into the collection bucket. The gray-haired bell-wringer smiled broadly when he saw the roll with a $20 outside, probably not realizing it was all $20's. He got a hearty "Thank you, and God Bless" for that one.
After that he dropped the perfume, manicure sets and other clothing at the York Women's shelter, along with the final two bags of toys and the extra Wii with a large selection of games. He knew too well that there would be a lot of women showing up there with their kids between now and New Years. The woman at the front desk smiled gratefully for the donations and gave him a wink.
Finally, he hit the food bank with the groceries. By then he was in a bit of a hurry. He still needed to get to the Piggly Wiggly in Locks before they closed at 6. That left him an hour. At the last minute, he snagged the coffee out of one of the bags and stuck it with a toy he'd set aside earlier, then dropped the other food with the high school teens manning the donation table as part of their volunteer work. They seemed excited by the quality of stuff he was dropping off, not the standard cans of green beans and creamed corn that people didn't want and cleaned out of their cupboards this time of year. They began chattering about just whose boxes to put which things into before he even left.
He made his way back to the highway, humming and singing, "...he sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake..." He was almost done for the night.
By the time he pulled into the Piggly Wiggly parking lot back in Locks, the first flurries had started to fall. Under a white canvas tent open in the front where they had been selling Christmas trees a week ago was a long fold-up table with several cardboard barrels behind it. Also back there were two Marines in dress blues trying not to look cold, and mostly succeeding, though Rob knew better. There was a "Toys for Tots" banner hanging from the table.
Rob retrieved the last toy from the trunk along with the coffee and ambled up to the table. It wasn't the most expensive toy from the haul but the one he thought a child enjoy for a long time, a Lego Ultimate Super-Set. He peered past the two Marines into the barrels, which were maybe a third full. He recognized the Marines from around, but couldn't remember their names. He could tell they recognized him.
"Evening, gentlemen," Rob said. "Thought I'd drop this by before you folded up shop. I hope you know someone who can use this." He offered the Legos.
"Thank you, sir," the younger one replied, accepting it. "Nancy will know just who to give that to."
"When you see her, tell her I'll try to sneak out later and help her wrap stuff for an hour or two. She set up at the Baptist Church again this year?"
"That's right, sir. We're supposed to take this stuff over there in about fifteen minutes. We may see you there, depending on how late it is."
"Well, here's something for you, too, just a little thank you." He held out the Jamaican coffee.
"You shouldn't have, sir." Both Marines smiled. They were still young enough to enjoy presents themselves, but old enough to know good coffee when they saw it.
"My pleasure," Rob said. "By the way, if you talk to the guys over in the 1/3, tell them the people here haven't forgotten about them and still want them home."
"That's King's Regiment isn't it?" the second,slightly older Marine asked. Rob nodded.
"We may see them sooner than you think," the soldier continued. "They cut our orders yesterday, we head back after New Years."
Rob nodded knowingly. "Oh, yeah," he said, before he turned to go. "John said to say 'hello.'"
"How is Sgt. Little?" the second Marine asked.
"Doing ok. Glad to be home with Kelly and the kids. I think he misses things sometimes, though."
"He ever needs work, we'd be glad to have him back," the first man said.
"I'll pass that on, but I'm not sure he misses things that much," Rob laughed. "You boys take care and stay warm. Save some of that coffee for Nancy."
"Will do, sir," they replied.
As he pulled back out onto Business 47, Rob saw the snow had begun to fall in earnest, accumulating on the grass but mostly melting on the road. He'd better watch out for ice. Happy to be going home, he started singing again, "...he knows if you've been bad or good..."
When he pulled into the driveway, Maryanne's car was already parked behind the Charger. He grabbed up the three bags of groceries. He would come out after dinner for the gifts. But just to be sure, he locked the Town Car and thumbed the alarm. He'd move it back into the garage later.
Inside the door, he spotted Maryanne's uniform hanging by the front hall closet. The TV wasn't on and it smelled like she'd started a fire which meant she was crashed, waiting for him after a hard day. She was not likely to be a Merry Maid tonight. He dropped the groceries in the kitchen doorway and crept up behind her in the living room. "Hey, lady," he said over the back of the recliner.
"Hey, Rob. How was work?" She sounded tired, but had a steaming mug set on the table beside her that smelled like she'd broken out the mulling spices. A fire crackled in the fireplace.
"You know, same ole, same ole. And you?"
"Mrs. Dane decided I was 'the cleaning woman' again. Like she doesn't remember my name after 2 years, at least in front of her friends. Didn't even give me a tip this year. And she wants me back first thing the day after Christmas for some special service that includes the windows."
"Hey," he said, trying to brighten her mood, "I won the raffle at work. One of those spiral-cut honey hams you like so much. We'll have leftovers for a week even after the family leaves. So I didn't get the turkey."
"Did you get everything else?" Maryanne asked.
"Everything but the eggs. Place was cleaned out. But I can run out later if you want."
"Mmm," was her only answer.
"Oh, and they let us out early, so I did the all Christmas shopping like I said I would. I got something for everybody. Found that perfume your sister's been on about since Thanksgiving. Everything is out in the car. Even got a hold of a Wii with some games for the kids. That's the one they've been wanting, right?"
"Yes, it is." Maryanne sat up and looked at him. "Rob, we can't afford all that."
"Don't worry, my paycheck covered everything. Plus King Distributing gives us a discount on all the stuff that come through their warehouse, so it's like paying wholesale. And they supply everybody. I just wanted everyone to be happy this year. We can wrap it after dinner if you want."
"That would be ok." She collapsed back into the chair. "Any word on whether they're going to pick you up this year?"
"Today was the last day, unless they get flooded with returns. Still not enough business to justify more full-time help. They said they might have more work next year, though."
"What about John and Tucker?"
"No luck there either." He saw how crestfallen she was, so he rubbed her shoulders. "Don't worry, baby, it's going to be all right."
"It's just nobody's got work this year," she said, fighting back the tears. "I thought it would be different once you were home, with all the training."
"Hey, honey." Rob sat on the arm of the recliner, cupped her chin in his hands and looked her in the eye. "They have it out for anyone who worked at Angled-Iron. Me, John, Tucker. After the protests, half the county got blacklisted by Norman Industries and anyone they have influence over, which is everyone in Nottington."
"I'm just afraid you'll join up again and go back." She was crying now.
"Shh." He held her head against his chest and stroked her hair. "No one's going anywhere, honey. My place is here now. When Dick King gets back in country, all this is going change."
She looked up at him, tears filling her eyes and threatening to spill over again. "Promise?"
"Promise," he reassured her. "Richard King is a power man. When he gets home, he'll set things right in this county and at Norman Industries. Right now, we should be happy. We have food and a roof and nice presents for everyone tomorrow. No one can take that away from us."
Maryanne sniffed back more tears and wiped her cheek. "Guess we all knew this was just a temporary, Christmas thing, anyway," she said trying not to sound disappointed.
Rob reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the jewelry box. "I was going to wait until tomorrow to give this to you, but..." He handed her the box.
She opened it slowly. "Oh, Rob, they're beautiful," she exclaimed. "How could you afford them?"
"I got a bonus and they were close-out," he said. "But they're the genuine article. Now you have some nice jewelry to wear when we get married, like you deserve."
"How did you know that sapphires were my favorite?" She was looking up at him with those beautiful doe eyes, on the verge of crying again for a different reason. She hugged him across the chair, almost toppling them both.
"Lucky guess," he said as he extracted himself and headed back to the kitchen. From the doorway he called over his shoulder, "How about I fix you up some of that soup you always like."
After he put away the groceries and got the soup started, he stared out the kitchen window and watched the beginnings of a genuine white Christmas. As he watched the snow drift down and cover the yard, he thought about John and Tucker, about Norman Industries and Dick King coming home. Until he did, Rob figured he might as well keep singing. The song stuck in his head had taken on the feel of an anthem. "Oh, you better watch out...."
© 2007 Edward P. Morgan III
