Resurrection 31Posted: November 15, 2016
This is a chapter of the book I am writing for NaNoWriMo. If you want to read it from the start, click here for the chapter index.
“How much do you reckon this weighs?” said Ricky, pulling out his latest $2,000.00 envelope.
“Beats me,” replied Terry.
“Let’s weigh it,” said Ricky, putting the envelope on Terry’s scale. Marijuana dealers need many supplies: tiny Ziplocks, grinders, scissors. They also had to have an extremely accurate digital scale.
“20 grams,” read Terry out loud. “I wonder how much a million would weigh? Gotta be a lot.”
“Yeah, be tough to carry around prolly. When I get my million, I’ll let you know,” joked Ricky.
Ricky was formulating a plan. He was more and more confident the boxes he transported from Knoxville contained money. He couldn’t open one and find out for sure, however, because they’d probably kill him.
He needed to know how much money was likely to be in one of those boxes. On tomorrow’s run, he intended to find out. Leaving Terry’s he headed to Bissell’s Office Supply in Corbin. Once there he picked up a battery operated digital scale, then headed home to Inez.
“Where you been?” asked Kat as Ricky walked into the trailer. Ricky didn’t answer, he just whistled as he walked down the narrow hall to the bedroom.
“You’re in a good mood today,” remarked Kat as she followed, catching up to him as he was taking off his boots, sitting on the bed.
“I had a good day today,” said Ricky. “Things are going to change for us in a big way, darlin'” then he took Kat into his arms sand said, “Baby, we’re gettin’ out of this shit town. Where you wanna live? Anyplace you wanna go, that’s where we’ll go.”
“Ricky, what’s going on? Did you get a big score or somethin’?”
Ricky just grinned.
“YOU DID! How much did you get? Oh, honey, this is great.” Kat’s mind was already thinking about how she’d spend the money.
“Now, honey, don’t get your hopes up, it hasn’t come together yet. But, yeah, I think we’re gonna have some real money, real soon.”
“That’s great. Let me make my man some dinner. I got a lasagna in the freezer, sound good?” Kat rarely waited on him, but tonight he wanted him to be happy. Keep a man happy and when the money comes, it’s yours.
“Garlic bread too?”
“Anything for my man,” cooed Kat, adding, “and maybe after dinner I can put on something you like and give you some dessert.”
After dinner, and dessert, Kat was fast asleep, still wearing the babydoll he enjoyed. She had taken off her heels. Ricky was lying, still awake pondering how he would make this work.
It would need to be a big haul, at least $100,000, to make it worth it. He was smart enough to know that. Kenny and his boys in Cincinnati would know within hours he wasn’t showing up, or at least showing up on time. They’d come looking for him.
As cautious as they were, he wondered if there was a GPS or something in the boxes as well as cash. If he just opened the box and ran, they might be able to track him. He needed to think through every step of his plan.
He would need a new identity. That would be the first step. He’d need a name, birth certificate, social security number, driver’s license. He’d have to figure out how to do that. Couldn’t be too hard, not with the people he knew.
He would need a place to hide out until the dust cleared. Even with a new name, he wouldn’t have a new face. He had to go someplace nobody knew him or Kat. Someplace he’d never been. They would look at his mom’s, of course, probably bug her phone. That wouldn’t be a problem. He was ready to cut that bitch out of his life years ago. He wouldn’t miss her a bit.
Thinking through the details, Ricky eventually fell asleep.
When he woke up the next morning, Kat was already in the kitchen making bacon, biscuits and eggs. “Wow, you’re gonna spole me,” said Ricky as she handed him a cup of coffee.
“Nothin’ too good for my man,” it was a mantra she would repeat many times over the next weeks, hoping to keep him addicted to her sweetness until he got the score. She’d keep him fed and sexed up and he would give her anything.
Kat wasn’t a bad person, not really. She didn’t try to hurt others. But in Kat’s world she had to learn to survive. Surviving meant putting herself first, seizing opportunities. She even cared, at least some, for Ricky. He didn’t hit her, he wasn’t angry or drunk all the time. Plus they had fun watching television, playing video games and smoking pot.
He was fun for now, and until the fun wore off, she’d hang around.
After breakfast he headed out.
“What time you be home tonight, darlin’? I want to do something special for you. Something you’ll really enjoy.” Kat’s words dripped like syrup.
“Probably nine or so.” said Ricky, getting in his truck.
The trip from Inez to Knoxville takes about three and a half hours, then four from Knoxville to Cincinnati, then another three or four back to Inez. It was just now eight.
“Well don’t be stoppin’ at the club on the way home. Why eat fast food when you have steak at home?” Now would be a bad time for his attention to be distracted by another woman, thought Kat.
“I won’t, babe,” said Ricky, climbing into the F150.
Kat ran up to the window, “Oh, here, I made you some food for the road.”
“Thanks,” said Ricky and then craned his neck out the window to give her already puckered lips a kiss.
Driving to Knoxville to pick up his latest “package,” Ricky felt like a kid a week before Christmas. He wasn’t going to open his present yet, but he was going to shake it and see if he could guess what was inside. He had the scale stashed behind the passenger seat in the crew cab.
He was hoping Santa was going to be generous.
He jumped through the “cloak and dagger” shit to get the package. Much the same as always. One thing that had changed with the new truck: His old truck had dual gas tanks so he never had to stop for gas. Now he was allowed one stop, in Lexington, to gas up. He wasn’t allowed to pee or leave the truck though.
He still wasn’t sure if he was followed on these trips, so he did as he was told.
He couldn’t get to Lexington fast enough. He pulled off at Exit 104 and drove into the Shell station across from Solid Gold.
He started the pump and then got back into the truck. Grabbing the scale from the back seat, he placed on the passenger side floorboard and turned it on. Without lifting it up high enough to be seen through the windows, he placed the box on the scale.
The digital readout read 4.53 kg.
“Fuck,” exclaimed Ricky.
The pump kicked off, he got out to replace the nozzle. “Fuck.” His mind was reeling. He got back in the truck, replace the scale to the crew cab and headed back onto I75.
He did the math out loud as he drove.
“Ok, 4.35 kg is 4,350 grams. If this is $100 bills, that means over 4,000 $100 bills. Fuck, that’s over $400,000.00”
Any doubts about this plan evaporated for Ricky at that moment. He was going to make this work.