Write me a Letter

building.”
    ”Without wings,” said Will.
    ”Probably without a parachute, either,” I said. ”He’s got to figure you copped his dough. If not you, who else? Also you took off immediately afterward, which was a bit of a giveaway, my friend.”
    ”Better’n hangin’ around and gettin’ a few flying lessons myself,” he said, ”like one solo.”
    ”He’s got a chance,” I said, ”if he can find out where you are quick enough. The handover is likely this weekend because that’s the deadline he gave me. What if he says, someone lifted the dough despite it being locked up and guarded. I found out who it was and I found out where the little fucker is, pardon my French. I wonder why they say that —fucker s not French, is it?”
    ”Probably international by now, like cornflakes,” Will said.
    ”‘So,’ Fats says, ‘I got a man watching him right now. Before I did anything, I thought it only correct to ask you, you want in, or you want me to handle it? I thought you might want in because you got your own highly individual means of discouraging such behavior because you like word to get out about exactly what’ll happen to anyone who tries to cross you.’ ”
    ”Maybe,” William said. ”Maybe that’s what I’d do if I couldn’t come up with sixty-two five of my own in a hurry to replace what got took, if I could I’d keep my mouth shut about the whole thing.”
    ”Giving you more time to go looking for the dirty rotten crook,” I said. ”But you don’t want too much time to go by, because the more time that dirty, rotten little crook is out there with the money, the more time he’s got to splurge on items like red roses for Fran and small vials of expensive liquids that smell good and crystals of carboniferous matter that sparkle.”
    ”Aw, Jeez,” Will said, looking away. The pianist began a dreamy rendition of ”Satin Doll.” I ordered us another round; Will insisted it was on him. I let him have his way out of politeness. The ladies next door did likewise. One of them smiled in a friendly fashion in our direction and waved a cocktail stirrer at us. I smiled back in a friendly fashion in their direction.
    ”If the money you chucked out the window so carelessly belonged to an aging widow,” I said, ”or was destined for a home for unwanted puppy dogs or some other good cause, that’d be one thing. As it is, I figure you’ve got as much right to it, or most of it, ahem, as anyone else. If you can hang on to it.”
    ”Amen,” said Will. ”And lotsa luck, too.”
    ”Oh, I dunno,” I said. ”All we have to do is get you off the hook, get your mother and sister off the hook, keep Fran out of it, and get me the rest of my money from the fat one.”
    ”Is that all,” he said, not looking any too happy.
    ”Don’t worry, Will,” I said, patting him on the arm, ”I figure I can take care of all that, but there is one little thing you have to do for me. It’s just a trifle, really, it shouldn’t take you long.”
    ”Like what?”
    ”Disappear from the face of the earth,” I said, raising my refill to the ladies.

11

    Who was it who sang, cowgirls get prettier as the night gets later and the last dance nears? Well, cowboys must get better looking as well, otherwise me and Will wouldn’t have had a chance with those two ladies from the adjoining table.
    Their names were Valerie and Bonnie; they hailed from Lachute, wherever that was, and their husbands were up at Ste. Adele, wherever that was, for a curling bonspeil, whatever that was. Val, the shorter, latched on to me; Bonnie, a foot taller, to Will; ain’t it always the case. Not that anything remotely resembling hanky-panky developed or, indeed, was ever considered, Evonne my little cabbage. All that did develop was two tables sort of merging into one and then a few laughs and a few drinks and even a dance or two. Will was a marvelous dancer and the ladies not far behind. If I’ve had just enough but not too much to drink, I can manage to make it through a slow fox-trot without stumbling too often if my partner is a good leader.
    As for hanky-panky, I doubt I’d either hanky or panky with another woman even if I did have the chance. I have enough trade secrets from Evonne already without having that sort of monstrous secret between us; bad news. Bad manners, too, I’ve always thought. Evonne asked me once when we were not so idly badinaging back and forth what I would do if she had a fling with someone else.