Page 17 of Prospect Year
“Damn, boy, you counting the dots on the ceiling?” Judge joked as he ambled toward the matching chair nearby, dropping into it.
“Never know when I’ll be asked how many there are,” he tossed back at Judge.
“Maybe we should ask which bedroom in Angel Haven has the most holes,” KO quipped.
“That I wouldn’t know,” Lola told the room. “Only been in mine. And I’m asleep before I hit the bed.”
“Shit, you’re doing good if you’re staying awake till you make it to the bed. We need to find more for you do,” Nova decided. “What you think, King?”
“Seems like a good time to hit the road. Ready to take a trip, Lo?” King asked, moving to the end of the couch, his hands on his hips.
“Always.”
“Might as well be. Mac has the details. He’ll get you set up at the garage, and you leave today.”
Lola jumped to his feet and rubbed his hands together. “Ready to go.”
“Need you to fix the leaky faucet in the commons bathroom while Judge grills up some ribs, then we’ll eat and Mac and Blade will get you set to go,” King told him before he turned and walked outside.
***
“So, I’m hauling tires?” Lola questioned. He must have appeared puzzled, he thought, as Blade laughed.
“That’s all we do. Work on cars and travel the southern part of the States with tires. But you know that.”
“Occasionally, we have a small order. Or could be a requested sample of something new. Those runs, you get to ride. Today, you get to take Maude here,” Mac said, patting the side of the run-down truck with the garage’s name painted on the side. Lola had noticed it sitting in the garage since beginning to work here. Although he couldn’t recall it being moved more than a handful of times in the now three years he had worked here. “And don’t let the looks fool you. She runs perfect. The worse she looks for wear, the less likely anyone will fool with it, or you.” Mac leaned over the tool table, lifting a clipboard from a hook on the wall and turned back. “Here’s the orders.”
Lola took the papers, scanning the odd list of tires and car parts on the yellow sheet.
“Here’s your uniform. Leave your cut here. No advertising on business like this. It’s an established customer, so there should be no problems. Here’s your merchandise.” Mac led Lola to the back of the truck and knelt under the flat bed, opening a hidden lock. Standing, he pulled a long drawer out from underneath the floor of the bed. “Everything is here. All delivers to one stop.”
Guns. Custom made and non-traceable. As with all of Mac’s work, they were impeccable.
“Didn’t you just get locked up for this?” Lola asked, cocking his head toward Mac with a grin.
Mac laughed. “This is it. Only they couldn’t find it and had to drop the charges.”
Lola chuckled and shook his head.
“You’ll talk to Ellison. We go way back,” Mac told him. But, if he gives you shit, end the deal there.”
“If he’s receptive, show him these.” Blade walked to the side of the truck and unstrapped a tire. Flipping it over, he opened the fake wheel. “All the info is listed here.” He handed Lola the list. “You can look that over and learn it. Receipt is tucked in with the blades, if he’s interested. Non-negotiable.”
“Got it,” Lola assured them and pushed the paper into his pocket before slipping the garage uniform on and buttoning it up over his t shirt. “Alabama, here I come.”
Driving straight through, Lola arrived nearly six hours later. Once on a deserted country road, he pulled to the side and, leaving the engine running, he relieved himself and checked the directions. Deliver before daylight. Tonight, or in the morning, doesn’t matter. Call Ellison when you’re ready. Lola ran Mac’s instructions through his mind once more and dialed the number from the phone Mac had supplied him with. The man quickly answered, and arrangements were made.
Not long later, Lola found himself in the middle of nowhere. Nothing but pastureland on either side of the dark, deserted road. Finally, a faint glow appeared ahead and began to grow larger until a stately ranch house appeared. Quickly killing the headlights, he turned onto the gravel drive bypassing the house, not stopping until the truck was completely inside a barn. He turned the key and pushed open the door to be greeted by a rough looking man who seemed to be in his fifties. Oddly, he studied Lola before speaking.
“You sure we haven’t met before?” Ellison asked. “I know Mac said you were a prospect, but maybe you’ve been out this way before?”
“No, sir,” Lola replied. “My first time in this area.”
“Alright. I’m usually good with faces. Have to be with a hobby as mine.” The man turned, shaking his head.
Lola chuckled along with the man as they made their way to the back of the truck. “Then I’m sure you’re anxious to see these new babies of yours.”
“Yes, indeed, I am,” the buyer agreed, reaching underneath the truck bed opening the long, hidden drawer.