Style, you
either have it or you
don't. And if you have it, you have it
all the time.The Lovable Rogue
by Tux Toledo
Page 10
"Let's
go," I said, opening the door. "And for the last time my
name's Winston."
"I'm not going anywhere!" Jill screamed. "Give me the
cocaine!"
"Look," I pointed toward the car speeding toward us. "Those
are the Feds and they're coming to get you. Now get in the
plane."
Jill's eyes narrowed then widened until they became the size of silver
dollars. Then she did as she was told.
I grabbed Bernie and she followed us to the plane. It was a
nice, four-seat Cessna 175 Skyhawk. James opened the
door. I climbed in and sat in the front next to
James. Bernie and Jill squeezed into the back
seats. I placed my urn on the floor, and took the one from
Bernie and placed it on the floor next to mine.
James received clearance, started the engine and taxied the plane to
the runway.
"Why are there two urns?" Jill asked.
"As you can see, the FBI really is on to you. If Bernie had
simply handed over the cocaine you both would have been
arrested. I don't really care about you but I'd rather keep
Bernie out of jail."
"So why two urns?" Jill growled.
"To decoy the Feds," I said. "We're going to have to pull a
switcheroo and outsmart them."
"Which urn has the cocaine?" she asked.
"This one." I pointed to the one next to my left foot.
"What's in other one?"
"Fifi."
"Fifi?"
"Doggie ashes."
"Oh, God!" She shook her head and gave Bernie a look of
complete, utter, total disgust. She crossed her arms and
stared out the window.
James was able to take off before the Feds could interfere.
We flew West and were soon over the mountains.
"When do I get the cocaine?" Jill asked. The girl did have a
one-track mind.
"After we put Fifi to rest."
The plane crossed he coastline and when we were out over the ocean
James put the plane into a long circle.
"Is this all right, Bernie?" I asked.
"Yeah, fine," he replied. He wasn't enjoying
himself. Poor Bernie. Jill had insulted him and he
was sulking.
I nodded to James. He pulled his window open and reached for
an urn. He quickly tossed it out the window.
"Hey!" Jill screamed. "Was that the right one?"
"Of course it was," I said.
She reached into the front of the plane and grabbed the remaining urn,
opened it, and stared at the powder. It wasn't quite white
enough. She frowned until her face contained more furrows
than a newly plowed cornfield. She wet her index finger,
dipped it into the powder and brought it to her lips. Her
face turned crimson and her eyes nearly exploded.
"You're dead, Bernie," she shouted.
"What?" Bernie gasped. His voice creaked like old, wooden
stairs. Then he looked at me. "Winnie!"
I ignored him. He's just going to have to learn to get my
name right.
Bernie moaned and buried his head in his hands. Jill fumed
all the way back to the airport. James landed the plane and
when he brought it to a stop she immediately opened the door and jumped
out. She was still holding the urn.
Quicker than charging polo ponies a half dozen men surrounded the plane.
"FBI!" one of them shouted.
"Oh, no!" Bernie stepped from the plane and fell to his knees.
Jill scowled.
"What do you have there?" the FBI agent asked. He was a
sardonic little man, pudgy at the waist and gray on the head.
Jill kept quiet. The FBI agent stepped forward and looked
into the urn.
"Cocaine?" A smug grin formed around his mouth.
I stepped from the plane and stood next to Jill. The FBI
agent dipped his fingers into Fifi and tasted the powder.
"Poor Fifi," I said.
The agent got a strange look on his face.
"Hey, this isn't cocaine," he said. "What is it?"
"It's Fifi," I said.
"Fifi? What the hell's Fifi?"
"A dog. My friend down there runs a pet mortuary," I nodded
toward Bernie. "He cremated the dog this morning.
We were supposed to dump the little guy's ashes over the Pacific but
the wind wasn't right."
The agent turned pale. I don't think he was very happy at
having put dog ashes into his mouth.
"Let's get out of here," he barked. He took his men and went
home.
"I think you owe me a debt of gratitude," I said to Jill.
She stared at me, viciously at first, then with some small degree of
admiration as she realized I had saved her from jail.
"Leave Bernie alone," I said. "He's not worth the effort."
She looked down at Bernie. He was indeed a pathetic sight.
"You're right, he isn't," she said. Then she gave me a
luscious look. "But what about you? Are you worth
it?"
I grinned and shook my head.
"No, I'm not a family man."
I lifted Bernie by his collar.
"Home, James."
© 2008 David Biagini