Growing up a Thief

Chapter 7: Haunted Past

     Reality sets in: I know nothing about Richie. Although he never really lied about his past, that's just because we have never talked about it. How could he not tell me that he is wanted by the police? It all makes sense now, the fact that he is so well trained in magic and the strange conversation between him and the cook. What could he have done?

     "Richie, what is this?" I ask with my hand pressed up against the glass. "This is you?" I see his reflection in the glass as he walks up next to me. 

     "Don't worry, it's nothing. It's not me they really want," he explains, staring at the picture of himself. 

     "What do you mean? That's you, they even have your name down here," I say, turning away from the photo and resting my back up against the glass.

     "No, it is me in the picture, but it's not me they are after. They want my uncle." He balls up his fist and puts it flush against the glass. "They want me to flip on him, but I won't. Shit man, I don't even know if he's alive anyways." I look over at him; his face is cherry red and his eyes are beginning to water. "My uncle Steve is amazing with locks and safes. He was recruited by some guys who were trying to take down some big CEO and the job went bad. He didn't know it until it was too late, but I was hiding in the van the whole time. All he had to do was get in the door and pop the safe, but the guy had security and by the time he got the thing open the cops where already there. The cops saw me running away and tailed me to my house. But before I ran, I saw the cop shoot my uncle in the shoulder." He pauses for a second to wipe the tears from his eyes. "I heard he got away, but one of the guys he was with died. They need me to help find him and to testify, but I won't." He takes a deep breath. "My uncle taught me everything, James. He taught me how to tie my shoes, how to tie a tie and even my first magic trick. I can't flip on him, I won't." 

**********

     We make our way to my office without saying a word to each other. We both have a lot on our minds. Richie knew people were looking for him but he had no idea he was a 'Wanted Man'. 

     When we get up to the large office building that I call home, Richie seems impressed by the fact that I actually have keys to the gate. I'm sure how I acquired them wouldn't surprise him at this point. After spending the night at his place though, oddly enough, I was kind of embarrassed of mine. When we got back to the loading dock I gave him a mini tour of the office, and although he's trying to seem interested, I know that what's on his mind is dominating his thoughts.

     He takes a seat on the office chair and I sit up on the desk, both of us just staring at the wall for what feels like hours, and then Richie muttered something under his breath that I couldn't quite understand. "What's up man?"

     "You ever think about leaving?" he asks with his eyes focused on a crack in the tile on the ground.

     "Well the nice thing about this lifestyle, if you can call it that, is that we can live anywhere, man," I say with an upbeat tone, trying to cheer him up.

     

     "No I mean leaving the city," he explains, then leans back in the chair. "There's a big world out there, man, you ever thought about what it would be like?

     "All the time, but I mean it's not as easy as just going. Where would you go?" I ask with a bit of sarcasm, not realizing just how serious he is about this idea.

     "What about that picture you're always staring at, that big house?" He looks up at me and in his eyes I can see he's not talking fantasy, he wants out of New York. He wants to run. 

     "That place is a bit far, man," I say, trying to fake a cheerful mood to get his mind off the subject. "We're talking about the other side of the continent, might as well be on the other side of the world." I reach into my bag and get the photo. I hand it to him and say with a defeated voice, "Nome, Alaska."

     He takes the picture from me and looks at it for a second. He starts tracing the outside of the picture with his finger and looks up at me. "Why not?" he asks with genuine hope in his eyes which throws me off guard; he is serious. "You know you can't stay here forever and it's only a matter of time before someone finds my place. Think about it, you carry that old picture around with you everywhere. It obviously means something to you." He stands up from the chair, walks in front of me, hands me the picture and puts both hands on my shoulders. "We can do this, we can make this work."

     My heart starts racing, I look down at the photo and then look up at where we are. My mind is now flooded with the idea; every thought I have against it seems weak. Why would I stay? What is left for me here? But wait a second... "You do realize we are homeless right? And the last time I checked Alaska is under several feet of snow for most of the year. We would never survive; the picture is just a hotel, man. I mean sure we could stay there for a little while, but you think it's cold here. I just don't know how it would work." My eyes go from looking at him back down to the picture and a feeling of defeat washes over me; for a second I thought maybe it was possible. 

     

     "I have money." This statement confuses me a bit and when I look up at him, he has a devious look on his face. "It's not a lot but I have a small savings. Every time I perform I keep some of the money to the side, hidden away. It's not a lot but it's enough to get us started, and you know with what we did today, we could save for a few weeks, man, and we would be set for a while." A smile comes across his face and he backs away. The thought of leaving intoxicates him; he starts pacing back and forth. "Think about it, man, we just need a plan. Hell, we could get jobs or something when we get there."

     His enthusiasm is contagious; for a good minute or two he rambles on about all the reasons it could work and my mind is at war with itself. On one hand I've got a good thing going for me here; well, at least I'm safe. But, then again I can't help but feel he's right. One day, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week. But one day, someone is going to come back here and turn my world upside down. "But how? I mean how are we going to get there? We can't exactly fly and I don't know how to drive."

      When it hits Richie that I may be on board he smiles and puts his hand on my shoulder. "I think I have that covered. I may have someone that can help."

A/N: If you have made it this far into the story I greatly appreciate your interest. Be sure to Vote, Follow and most of all comment! I'd really like to hear what you guys think.

Thanks again,

Nick