Pickpocket

Pickpocket - word count: 1524

I had a tough day at work and thought a walk might do me some good. It wasn’t Henry my clean shaven, big canadian smile, red faced boss that gave me a hard time. It was i just couldn’t sell any cars. Those damn customers just wouldn’t buy. I used every tactic known to a car salesman. Spit and polish, douse the fire with a torch, and my favorite - bait and wait. But nothing worked. I guess it’s one of those bloody days.

So I walk along, hands in my grey, second hand, suit pockets, feeling the wind on my cheeks. The small shops of the suburbs pop up all around with multicolored signs.  As I spot Garry leaning on a pole, his eyes intent on something. He’s actually hiding behind the pole, wearing his police man standard uniform. Garry always comes over and takes a seat next to me when I get coffee at Frank's. Last week he actually cried about being demoted. “Due to inactivity in the field.” They told him, and sent him to walk the streets. I don't think of him as a friend, more like a pest, cause he's an idiot. I look over in the general direction of where he is looking and see a nerdy looking teen. She wears a sweat shirt, head low, tucked in a “I Heart NY” hat, with big nerdy glasses and bell bottom pants. She’s trailing Old Man Walt from behind. He’s walking slowly, leaning on his walking stick. She sends her hand towards Walt’s pant pocket. He turns around looking at a bridal dress shop window and she misses. I look at Garry, he jumps out from behind the pole, but quickly returns to his hiding place.

Seeing her trying to rob Walt brings back painful memories. Juvenile Hall was a hell whole. “Mike Scratch” and his gang used to beat me up nearly every day. There I learned begging was a necessary survival skill.

I decide to save her. But she’s across the street, and it’s full of cars and trucks, no crossing anywhere near. Walt moves along and she’s with him like a shadow. I head into the road, aiming towards her. A taxi hits the brakes and misses me by an inch. I put my hand out to stop a truck, and get the middle finger of the driver as he rushes in front of me, making my hair ruffle with wind. The taxi driver yells hindu curses from behind. I jump in-front of a van as he hits the brake and scrapes my leg as I leap on the sidewalk. She has her hand in his pocket and I knock into her soft teen body as we go tumbling down to the ground.

Garry grabs her by the arm and yanks her to her feet. She makes a move to get away but his hold is like steel. “Hand over the wallet!” He holds out his other hand. He’s built like a big white refrigerator.

“I have no wallet.” She berates him bravely. “Let go pig!”

Walt walks away quickly, eyeing us with distrust, through his beer mug bottom glasses. He feels his pockets then stops. “My wallet! It’s gone!” He searches frantically.

“Hand it over! Or I take you in.” Says Garry.

“She says she doesn’t have it Garry.” Says I, budding in.

“Stay out of it Jack!” He pushes me back insultingly. “Empty your pockets.” He tells her.

She empties them all, and they are empty.

“You got it on you somewhere. Your coming with me.” He starts pulling her.

“Let go! Police harassment!” She screams. The shop owners are coming out to see what it’s all about. She starts undressing, she takes off her shirt so quickly that she slips out of his grab. But instead of running she slips out off her pants as well, leaving her in sexy white underwear. She throws her clothes at him. ”you wanna, search? So search.” Whistles and cat calls are heard all over the street from the male shop owners. She looks seventeen with a body that’s full in all the right places.

“She's got it.” Says Walt. “Check her pants.”

Garry fondles the clothes finding nothing.

“I don’t have his wallet, senile old dog, must have left it at home.”

Walt is shocked and Garry looks confused. He returns her clothes. And is booed by the shop owners, she slips them over her undies.

“Sorry ma'am.” his face reddens.

“lucky if I don’t press charges.” She walks away.

“Why you lettin’ her go, she’s got my wallet Garry! You oaf!” The old man is hysterical, Garry looks distressed.

“I checked her clothes Walt, there was nothing there. There was nothing. Nothing." Garry says stupidly.

I see Franks Coffee House and decide to douse my excitement with a good cup of coffee. It's where I go to think. All my neighbours are there. I see Misses Halbrook Cat Lady and Ed Lawn-Mower. Name Tag Michele is my favorite waitress who always wear's her name tag on her big left breast. They have a Colombian special and I go for it. I never go for the special. Looking out the stained glass window I see the street. And who walks into Franks but that misguided nerdy teen pickpocket. She looks around spotting me and heads right over. She sits down at my table.

“Hi.” She says. “I wanted to thank you for saving me.” She smiles an innocent smile.

I remain silent, I only look into her big blue eyes. What is she doing here, She’s no innocent kid. My neighbors all look at me suspiciously. Worst of all Garry might walk in here any moment.

“Get out of here.” I whisper.

Michele drops the coffee down on the table. I smile at her and pick it up quickly for a calming sip.

"Is this your daughta'?" Michele smiles like a big broad barbie. talking in a thick New York accent.

"Yes I am. I came home finally, after all these long years. Right Pappy?"

I choke, and cough spitting coffee all over the table. My mind goes blank. "I... ah... um..."

"Don't be shy Pappy." I feel her hand on my leg crawling along. She smiles temptingly. This is crazy. I grab her hand.

"I'm Lacy." She pulls her hand away from mine and shakes Michele's.

"Oh, isn't that adorable, I neva' knew you had a daughta'." Michele is delighted.

"You two where in cahoots?!" Garry is standing on the other side of our table. Garry draws out his gun pointing it at Lacy. Michele gasps.

"I don't even know her." Said I. “Hey kid, why don’t you scram.” I take another sip of my coffee trying to portray a look of composure. My heart beats like crazy, but life has taught me an innocent man has nothing to fear.

"You said Lacy was your daughta'!" Michele is appalled.

I cough again spraying more coffee all over. "I... She said it, not me! I don’t know any Lacy."

“I am his daughter.”

“What’s all this daughter stuff about Jack?” Garry stands straight, feet spread apart, gun flipping from her to me from me to her. I can see he’s sweating and stressed. So I move slowly putting my hands in my pockets, trying to look relaxed. There is something in my pocket and I take it out. It’s a wallet! I instinctively throw it up in the air.

“What was that?!” Garry points the gun at me. “Why did you move so fast?!”

The wallet doesn’t come back down and I glance up, seeing it stuck on the square see-through lamp shade. The wallet is lying open, and I can see Walt’s drivers license. For a dirty old man he's got a heck of a smile in that license photo.

Garry looks up, he noticed my glance. Shit! I’m such an idiot. She must have planted it on me. That’s why she came back.

“Hey Garry,” says Michele, “you lost your marbles or wha’?”

“Lost my marbles huh!” He points with the gun. “Look up there. You two up against the wall.”

Greasy haired Frank appears out of nowhere and puts a hand on Garry’s gun, lowering it. “Stop harassing my customers.”

“But they stole Walt’s wallet. Look.” He points with the gun, and a bullet is loosed. Glass shards fly everywhere as I hit the deck. The other customers flee the scene, yelling and screaming.

We all stand up slowly. Michele has her long fingernails between her teeth, Garry has lost all his color, and Frank’s face is twisted in anger. He grabs Garry by the scruff of his neck, and throws him out. “You come in here shooting the furniture! The nerve on that guy.”

Lacy is gone, and so is the wallet. Michele goes to the back to get a broom. I use the opportunity to get the heck out of there. But right before I walk out, I see Walt’s big smile, his license is just lying there. I pick it up and instinctively flip it over. “Love, Lacy.”