Friday, May 22, 2009


Nothing like spending someone else’s money. Even when it’s money he doesn’t have. Mrs. Nerd didn’t care. As time passed and there was no call, no contact from the Nerd, Mrs. Nerd took on a thick candy-coated shell. She wasn’t pissed, she smiled the whole time. We went shopping.

Sears. That’s what suits me. She thought about some better places, but I’m no douche. Give me clothes that’ll last years and I’m happy. The Nerd’s credit cards paid for a coupl
e pairs of Levis, t-shirts, socks, underwear and a sweet Carhartt jacket. A backpack to put it all in and a new pair of shoes. It was like back to school shopping.

Except I don’t think back to school gear is for sleeping outside, hiding a dagger and maybe fighting my way out of Los Angeles. And if I had a mom to shop with, she wouldn’t have been checking out my ass in the jeans the way Mrs. Nerd did.

She kept laughing. Talked about how she was going from North of Montana Ave. to the northern border of Montana state. Mr. Nerd stretched himself too thin. Investments, real estate, loans to friends. Then the economy splashed into the toilet and he went with it. Stock market, bad banks, that crap never mattered to my dad and me. Everyone always wants their weed. But Mr. and Mrs. Nerd, they’ve got nothing left but the credit cards. Guess that’s why he didn’t cancel them when I swiped his wallet. He’s clutching to everything he can. She’s smiling until the luck runs out. Could be soon.

Mrs. Nerd didn’t know anything about the deal or the drop. There’s a lot he doesn’t tell her and she doesn’t want to know. I’m not telling her either. I only probed a little and could tell that she was done with his bullshit plans and fuckups. Seems the lady only cared that he brought in a paycheck and kept her high-price life afloat. Now that he’s missing, it’s like she’s dancing on air as she walks the plank.

I got some new clothes out of it, a couple of good meals. I’m at her computer writing this. I palmed a little digital camera I found in a drawer. The Nerd still hasn’t ca
lled. I know what you’re thinking. Trey’s getting soft. The good life is going to get him killed. But I ain’t stupid. My bag is always packed. I leave my shoes on inside the house.

This ain’t the good life. This house is burning down all around me. Sig and his North River fucks are out there. I’m buying time. Soon as the Nerd surfaces and I make my deal, Trey is moving on. But when Mrs. Nerd opened the good wine and we got take-out Indian food and she got that hungry look at a fine piece of man like Trey, even a bed as comfortable as hers didn’t keep Trey through the night. Sorry, Sarah, her bed’s more comfortable than yours – probably cost more than a car. But after the action, I take the couch, jeans on and dragon slaying dagger at my side.

And this ain’t no sex blog – so you make up the details, perv. I will say that Mrs. Nerd is a live one.

But when she’s alone, when her bedroom door is closed, I can hear her crying. That’s what she’s doing now. That gives me time. Time to catch you up. And I can finally plug the flash drive in. I almost looked in it a couple of days ago, but Mrs. Nerd came dancing through the room and insisted on getting me some new clothes and who am I to say no. I’m checking the flash drive now. Let’s see if it crashes the computer.


I thought it might be some blueprints. A tank or helicopter or top secret supersuit. What could be so important to drop in the bushes for Rodeo? It had to be good if the Nerd was willing to stick me with his middle-earth dragonslayer. How about the floor plan for the Vatican? Religious conspiracy that proves that Jesus was an alien with a laser powered cock?
I’m pissed. Fucking pissed. The Nerd wanted my blood for a goddamn list. Looks like the white pages. Hundreds of pages of names. Addresses and phone numbers and other numbers.
There it is. Social Security numbers.

That’s the business. Each listing it a complete person, ripe for the picking. Rodeo’s gotta be paying big for this. He’ll be paying more now that Trey is holding the goods. Fuck the Nerd. I’m cutting out the middle man. I need Rodeo.

You know anything about computers? I just yanked the flash drive without doing the eject thing. Will that fuck it up? Mrs. Nerd opened her bedroom door. Floorboards in the upstairs hallway creak. I got the drive out and closed the computer window before she saw it. Hope I didn’t lose what’s on the drive. Hell, even if it’s blank, I’ll get Rodeo to pay for it.
Right now, Trey has to pay for his room and board. Mrs. Nerd has that hungry look again. No candy, though. Angry. It’s going to be rough.