Old Habits Read online

“No. No. Absolutely not,” I argued, slamming my fist on the counter. Gabe watched me as if observing a toddler throw a temper tantrum, knowing if he waited it out, it would soon pass. “We’ve worked too hard, and I love this shop. I’m not leaving it.”

  Gabe glared at me through angry eyes. “Suit yourself. You stay, and when Harrison sends someone back to ‘collect the interest’ we supposedly owe him, you can find out what it’s like to have your fingernails ripped out.”

  The possibility caught me off guard, but I managed to spit out, “You said he wouldn’t use violence. I thought he was a businessman?”

  “He wouldn’t have put anyone in harm’s way to find us, but now that we’ve been running from him for over a year, and he knows where we are, you can pretty much count on as much violence as he wants. In his eyes, we robbed him, spat in his face, and disappeared off the face of the planet for fourteen months. Expect violence.” As Gabe spoke, he moved through the store, me close behind, and spun the small, hand-written sign that read OPEN to the opposite side, showing the surf shop was now CLOSED.

  His words were harsh, but I knew Gabe knew what he was talking about. We weren’t safe, but I wasn’t ready to give up the surf shop so easily. In my eyes, it was a tribute to Airic. He had died because of my choices, and part of me thought I would die before giving up the shop. This store was a dream of his, and in turn, had become a dream of mine.

  “You know what this place means to me,” I pleaded, knowing it was likely useless.

  “I do,” Gabe acknowledged. “I get it, I understand, and I think you had great intentions, but if we die, nothing that happened in the past year and a half was worth anything. Do you want to die?”

  I shook my head, knowing full well Gabe had turned on his magical charm and would be talking me into anything he wanted me to do. For all I knew, we would end up in Russia next. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Gabe suddenly had a connection in Moscow, ready to set up our next drug-adventure inside the Kremlin.

  “Good, because I don’t want us to die either.”

  I shook my head again, fighting back several emotions and wanting more than anything to cry. When we had first left Hastings, I would cry any time I found myself alone. Now, I found it the most difficult thing to do. Being an outlaw had hardened me to the point of being nearly void of emotion.

  “You know we have to do this.”

  I nodded this time. “I’ll go talk to Ford.”

  Gabe patted me on the back as I walked away and slowly slid the curtain between the surf shop and my and Gabe’s apartment open. Ford was waiting on me, sitting on the edge of the coffee table. This was the deepest in thought I had ever seen him, forcing me to wonder if he had overheard our conversation.

  “Airic, what’s going on?” he asked. Sometimes I forgot Ford still knew me by my fake name. “Is this something to do with the pot? What did Kevin do? Why did that guy call him Gabriel?” he asked. I could tell he was spitting the questions out just as fast as they were coming to him. He had every right to be angry and curious, but sometimes Ford couldn’t help but come off as a little stupid, even though I knew better. His care-free, surfer appearance brought out the worst cases of “judging a book by its cover” in most people, most of the time.

  I sat down on the couch across from him and tried to think of a way to explain everything without a) terrifying him and b) royally pissing him off. Ford was a friend, one of the only real ones I had other than Gabe, and if he was interested, I would have been more than willing to bring him with us to wherever we would be fleeing to next.

  “My name’s not Airic,” I began. Ford’s brow furrowed, proving his instant disbelief of my statement.

  “What are you talking about? Of course your name’s Airic. I’ve seen your driver’s license.”

  I shook my head. “My name is not Airic; it’s Jamie. Jameson Alexander Brewer. Kevi-- Gabe and I fled here from Indiana, changed our names, started a new life and, as it turns out, this new life is a lot like our old lives.” I put my face into my palms as I contemplated how to continue the story and exactly how much to tell Ford. I raised my head again, my hair partially obscuring it from Ford’s view. “We sold pot in Indiana just like we do here. We were just a little better at it back then, I guess, but then things went bad, fast. People died, and the two of us were—are--wanted for murder. But it wasn’t our fault. We’ve been on the run ever since, settled here in Behler, and thought everything was going to be okay.”

  It felt good to have everything all out in the open, but Ford didn’t speak. His eyes seemed distant, as if he was actually in some faraway place. When he finally did speak, the only thing he was able to say was, “You lied to me?”

  There was no way around it. Almost everything Ford thought he knew about Gabe and me was a giant lie. We’d done it for both his and our own good, but now that he knew, I felt pretty bad about it.

  “Yes, but now you know. I told you because you’re a part of this. We don’t want anything bad to happen to you. You needed to know the truth,” I said.

  Ford opened his mouth in shock. “What do you mean I’m a part of this? What do you mean you don’t want anything to happen to me? You haven’t told me what’s going on! Who was that guy out there? What did he want?”

  I tried to think of a way to sum it up without scaring Ford even more. “It’s hard to explain, but whatever he wants, it’s not good for any of us. His boss is the reason we had to run away. He thinks we owe him something, and that something is probably our lives. There was money involved back in Indiana, a lot of money. Gabe and I ended up with it… but Harrison thinks it’s still his.”

  “Can’t you just give it back? Where is it?”

  I looked around and raised my hands in a gesture as if to say, “here it is!” Ford only let out a deep sigh and averted his gaze so as to not make eye contact with me.

  At that moment, Gabe walked into the room, looking a little more alert than either of us were used to. “Is everything good in here?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said, hoping he would go away so I could continue speaking with Ford.

  “No! It’s not!” Ford exclaimed. “You’re a liar. You’re both liars, and I don’t even know what to think of it right now. I don’t even know you.” He was obviously disgusted. “This money that may or may not belong to you… that you apparently bought this shop with… is it how you’ve been paying me this whole time, too?”

  Gabe shrugged his shoulders and patted Ford on the back. “Sometimes shit like that happens, kid,” was his only form of apology. He then walked over to a pile of his clothes on the floor and began scooping them up. “Jamie, my duffel bag?”

  “It’s on the top shelf of the closet, along with a couple hundred dollars in emergency money,” I said, pointing towards the closet with my eyes. Even through all this mess I had made sure the two of us had an escape plan, even if Gabe didn’t know about it. Four hundred dollars wouldn’t do much, but it would get us the hell out of California. We’d worry about new names and fake I.D.s when the time came.

  “So, where are you going?” Ford asked. He looked as if he was being abandoned.

  “We,” I said, putting emphasis on the word, “are getting out of California. That’s the plan, anyway. We’ll decide where we’re going once we’re on the road. We want you to come with us, Ford.”

  Gabe stopped in his tracks and turned away from the closet where he had been digging through our belongings, pulling out what he considered to be essentials. Had we not been in panic mode, the look on his face would have been priceless. “No, we don’t,” he said matter-of-factly.

  I had a feeling he would react this way, but I was determined to bring Ford with us. We’d lied to him about everything and dumped the truth on him all at once. He deserved the right to leave town with us, if he really wanted to. After all, his life was probably in just as much danger as mine and Gabe’s. The look on his face, however, didn’t make me think he would be traveling with
us.

  “Yes, we do,” I said to both of them. Then, to Gabe, “He won’t be safe here. If we leave him and your brother comes back looking for us, what do you think will happen to him? He’ll be as good as dead.”

  Gabe rolled his eyes and stepped away from the closet, gorlwing in my ear, “Not our problem.”

  “Yes, very much our problem!” I blurted. Gabe was taken aback, but still didn’t seem to waver on his stance. He turned to Ford, who was still sitting on the coffee table, tapping his foot on the floor nervously. “Look, it’s up to you whether you come or stay. You know I don’t like you, never have, and I’m pretty sure you feel the same about me. But, for some reason, Jamie here thinks you’re his little brother and wants you to tag along. It’s your call.”

  Ford stood up as if to leave, but stopped himself before exiting through the curtain. “Can I have some time to think about it? I can’t just drop everything and go, you know?”

  I nodded, and understood completely. The last time I had fled, I didn’t get a chance to change my mind before it was too late. As much as I wanted Ford to come with us, I had to accept the fact maybe it wasn’t the best decision for him.

  “Of course,” I said calmly. “We leave in the morning--“

  “Tonight,” Gabe said, cutting me off.

  “Okay, we’re leaving later tonight. If you’re here when we go, you can come with. If not, then we’ll know what you chose to do.”

  Ford acknowledged my invitation and said, “I’m going for a walk. I need some fresh air. I need to surf, but I doubt the weather will allow that today. I’ll be down at the beach if you need me for anything.”

  Moments later, he was out the door and crossing the street. I turned to Gabe to see if he had anything else to add to our conversation before we parted ways and made plans for our great escape. For the most part, it looked as if Gabe had crammed the majority of his possessions into the duffel bag and was ready to flee. I, however, still had to pack, and decided I desperately needed to write a response to Kip’s letter. He needed to know it was no longer safe to send messages to the surf shop, and that after tonight, there would be no one there to read them.

  “We’re going to need money,” I said flatly, looking to Gabe for suggestions.

  He smiled. “I have a plan for that. As of last inventory, we had about fifty ounces of stock in the garage. It’s not great quality, but it’s us, so I can pass it off as pretty good stuff. I’ve got a few hours and a few connections, so I’ll see if I can make one big sell. I’m figuring I can get us twelve-five, at most for it on such short notice, but it’ll be gone.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said monotonously.

  Gabe sighed. I could tell he wanted nothing less than to make me feel better about what was happening, but he also knew we were a team, and it was about time he started being a team player. “Look,” he said. “I figured for another two or three thousand, I could throw in the van and the keys to the garage. We’d be officially cutting all ties to everything that happened when we go this time.”

  As much as I hated to admit it, the offer was pretty enticing. Having the black van we had stolen and fled town in locked in a garage a couple of blocks away had felt like a ball and chain clasped around my ankle the entire time we’d been in Behler. If we really were making a run for it, I’d much rather flee in the crappy Honda Civic we’d bought with surf shop money rather than the stolen mob-van we’d brought with us from Indiana.

  My face brightened just a little. “Do it,” I agreed.

  “That’s what I was hoping to hear!” He exclaimed. I could tell he was excited about leaving town; he’d never liked it here and had only stayed because of how easily everything had seemingly fallen into our laps. The fear of death aside, Gabe was happy to be starting over yet again. “I’ll work on making the connections while you stay here and square things away with the shop. Sound good?”

  “Sounds good,” I said, hoping he’d leave sooner than later. As he marched out the door, I called to him, “Take the car?”

  “No, I’ll walk!” he shouted back and vanished around the corner. Even in a rainstorm, no one actually wanted to drive the Civic unless they had to; the thing was a hunk of junk. Luckily for Ford, though, the sky had cleared up a little as the day had gone by.

  I waited less than two minutes, just to make sure Gabe wouldn’t be coming back sporadically, and pulled a sheet of notebook paper from a pad we kept next to the cash register. We had originally kept it to write down the contact information for drug-clients in the area, but it was now possibly my final communication to Kip for a very long time to come.

  Kip,

  I cannot stress how important it is you follow my instructions in this letter. Something has happened. I’m okay. Gabe’s okay. But we’re leaving town tonight. We’re not safe anymore.

  DO NOT SEND ANY MORE LETTERS TO THE SURF SHOP!

  I don’t know where we’re going, but when I do, I’ll write you. It might be days, or weeks, or longer, but I’ll write you.

  Be on the lookout, as always. With us disappearing tonight, Harrison’s people will be looking for us again. They might try to get you to talk. Don’t stay out late, and just be aware of your surroundings.

  I’m sorry. I know this all sounds very paranoid, but it’s real. If things start to get out of control, if you feel like you’re being followed, if you just don’t feel safe, I want you to tell Mom and Dad EVERYTHING. If you have to, go to Officer O’Kelly, but use him as a last resort. Keeping my secret is not worth your safety.

  I’ll write as soon as I can.

  I love you,

  Jamie

  I tri-folded the letter and shoved it into an envelope, quickly scrawling Kip’s name and address across the front and pulling a stamp from my wallet. I put no return address, as always, and walked towards the front door. Normally, I wouldn’t use the mailbox at the surf shop’s street corner, but I knew I wouldn’t have time to take it any further. I had no idea when Gabe would be back from talking to his “connection,” and couldn’t risk him catching and interrogating me about the letter.

  As I walked down the sidewalk, getting closer and closer to the mailbox, the rain beginning to pour harder, I saw Ford jogging towards me. His face held concern, but in all honesty, I was happy to see him back.

  “Ford,” I simply stated, trying not to let any emotion show in my voice. For all I knew, he was coming back just to let me know he wouldn’t be joining us. I was excited, however, to see the backpack slung over his shoulder.

  “Air-- Jamie, I have to ask you a huge favor.”

  “Anything,” I said, opening the mailbox and dropping the letter in, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He obviously had a lot on his mind, and hopefully, my letter to Kip was the least of his worries.

  Thunder cracked in the distance, but neither of us made an attempt to get out of the storm. Instead, we began to walk back towards the surf shop at normal pace, as if there were no rain, and it was a sunny day in Behler.

  When he spoke, Ford was out of breathe; he had likely run the entire distance from his shitty apartment. “Can I borrow the Civic?”

  “Ford, listen…” I hesitated.

  “Jamie, I’m coming with you guys. I hope you trust me enough to believe me, but I just need to tie up some loose ends before we go.”

  I ran my hands through my rain-soaked hair and looked to the sky. “What do you need it for, and for how long?” I asked.

  He let out a loud sigh and shoved his hands into his pockets, definitely nervous about what he was going to say. “I need to drive up to Herron and try to patch things up with my mom before we go. If we’re… fleeing, I’d like to at least say goodbye to her, let her know I’m still alive.”

  I paused, not sure what to say.

  “I’m sure you of all people can relate to me right now. I swear I’ll be back in two hours, three tops, hopefully before Gabe. He doesn’t have to know. I won’t tell my mom anything about all this, b
ut I just need to see her, talk to her before we leave.”

  I thought about the letter I’d just dropped into the mailbox and wished I could drive two thousand miles to Hastings and patch things up with my mom before fleeing, yet again. On top of that, I wished I could drive backwards in time and never leave Hastings to begin with.

  I pulled the keys out of my pocket and held them up for Ford to take. “Listen, you’re back in two hours, no longer. If Gabe gets back before you, I had no clue you were taking the car. Got it?”

  He snatched the keys out of my hand and grinned awkwardly. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

  “I actually do,” I said, adding, “I just mailed a letter to my brother. I’ve been writing him for months.” I said it without thinking and instantly felt a sense of both relief and regret was over me.

  “I know,” Ford simply stated, giving no further explanation. I didn’t ask for one.

  As we made it back to the shop, Ford kept walking as I stopped at the entrance. He climbed into the beat up, orange Civic and rolling down the window.

  “Straight there and straight back,” I warned, not sounding threatening at all.

  He saluted me jokingly and turned the key in the ignition as I turned to walk back into the shop. I still had to finish packing, clear the cash register of everything we’d made for the day, and spend the rest of my time alone unwinding from the day’s events I never saw coming.

  And that’s when the car exploded.

  (Collateral Damage)