We had waited for an hour then Dick had left me at the apartment, in case Sid returned, while he went to the bar to get the story from Mike. Dick was gone for just about ten minutes. Mike didn't know any more than Dick and me. Dick told me Mike had promised to send word if he heard anything important.
I called into work and told Ed that I wouldn't be in. Dick hadn't heard anything when I returned. It was a rough night. At three AM the police came by and took Dick and me downtown for questioning. We were separated from each other and interrogated.
They had me in a room with only one door. The room was sparsely furnished. There was a mirror on the wall (undoubtedly one way glass). I had my hands handcuffed behind me and they had roughly pushed me into one chair of three. There was a bright light shinning in my face. They were playing good cop/bad cop with me. Y'know one would tell me how I was going to be locked up for a long time as an accessory and withholding evidence. The other cop kept trying to get me to cooperate by warning me that his partner had a bad temper. I was surprised when the one who was playing the bad cop actually hit me on my face. I had always thought that prisoners were protected against that sort of thing, at least in the police station. Considering that I was a CB I decided that I would just have to endure whatever the bad cop wanted to inflict on me.
He was slapping my face when another cop came in and told them that Sid had been found. I didn't know what to think. It felt like it might be another trick the cops use to make you talk when you don't want to. I was left alone to wonder if Sid had been brought in dead or alive. I refused to believe that he was dead. That doesn't mean that I didn't worry if he was alive.
My cheeks were burning from where I had been slapped around. That was proof enough that this was real life. In real life your friends sometimes die. I waited helplessly for the cops to return and let me go or lock me up. It didn't matter, either way I would find out what had happened to Sid. I worried.
***
I had been released about an hour later. They didn't tell me anything. I hadn't helped them so they felt they had the perfect right to not help me. I went to the front desk and made inquiries about Sid. I was told to wait.
I was seated on a bench waiting and worrying when Dick came up and asked if I knew what was going on. I shook my head "no" and broke into tears. I grabbed Dick and cried on his shoulder while he warned me to say nothing. The place was probably bugged. We didn't know what kind of trouble we could get into.
We held onto each other for support for a few minutes before Dick said he was going to ask the desk sargent about Sid again. I went with him. I had lost it. I was trembling uncontrollably and it didn't look like I would ever stop. I hung onto Dick as he worked his way through a bureaucratic maze made of red tape.
Finally we found out Sid was alive. He had been arrested for possession of stolen property and resisting arrest (everybody must resist evidently). He hadn't been hurt and was being interviewed. We would be able to see him the next day when we could arrange for bail.
We were told to anticipate the bail to be about 10,000 credits. I knew we would never be able to raise that much. Dick and I went to a bondsman and we were told that if we could put up something worth 8,000 along with 1,000 credits up front (non refundable) the bondsman would put up the bail. We told him that we didn't have that kind of money and we were offered the option of getting someone with the money to sign for the 8,000. That sounded like Mike. We decided to go see him.
Mike listened sympathetically and told us he'd have to think about it. Dick and I returned to our apartment to see what we could come up with. The police had trashed the place after taking Dick and me downtown. It didn't matter.
I had 200 in the bank and 50 in cash. I was due a paycheck from Ed on Friday, the next day, for 150 credits. That gave me 400 credits plus another 150 credits due the following week. I would go to work and try to get Ed to let me have my final pay this week. I doubted if it would help. Ed was tight with money.
Dick had 125 credits cash. Sid had another 100 credits but it had been on him when he was arrested so we couldn't get at it. That was 525 credits with another possible 150 (my last check) for 675 credits. Not enough credits for even a down payment.
Dick and I worried until we finally fell asleep on the couch.
***
I woke in a bed. It was dark. I wasn't sure where I was. I remembered about Sid being arrested and started to jump out of the bed. What was the use? Dick and I couldn't raise the money. Sid would have to stay in jail until his trail. Hopefully by then he would be able to prove his innocence or maybe we could work out some kind of a deal with the legal owner of the amp Sid had bought. It was ridiculous. Sid hadn't stolen anything. How could he be held responsible for the fact that the amp, or whatever it was, was stolen? How could he have known? It didn't matter, he was a CB, just like me.
I leaned back and allowed myself to try to relax. I felt around under the sheet and found I was still dressed--except for my shoes. I looked around. In the dim light I could barely make out the mess the police had made of our apartment. I sat up and held the pillow to me for security. Thankfully I could make out the outline of Dick on the remains of our couch. I felt better knowing I wasn't alone. I was grateful that Dick was still alright. I could still be thankful that Sid hadn't been shot by the police. Things were bad but not as bad as they could have been. If I had to I would wait for Sid to be set free. The worst part was the knowledge that it could happen again.
"You ok?"
I jumped. It was Dick. He was awake.
"He spoke again. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."
"Not your fault, Dick."
He thought about that for a minute. "I guess you get used to it. I've been thinking, there's no way we can get Sid out. What we need to do is get that son of a bitch Jimmy or John, what's his name."
"You don't mean hurt him or something do you?"
"I want to hurt him, Cookie, but I guess what we need to do is just beat the information out of him."
"Don't talk like that, Dick. I don't want you getting locked up too. I need you to protect me. I'm scared. Don't talk stupid!"
Dick got up and came over to the bed and sat down beside me. I put my hand on his shoulder. I could see the reflection of tears on his face. I leaned on him and tried to think of something comforting to say. I couldn't. It was so hopeless. We were just soulless trash. It was clear we were put into the world to work for the good of those who had souls. The part I couldn't understand was why I hurt so bad. If I was just some biological machine then why did I suffer so much? I looked at Dick. He was hurting just as bad as me. It didn't make sense.
***
When morning came Dick and I went downtown to see Sid. They weren't going to let us in. We were able to find out who his legal advisor was and had an interview with her. She said she could claim Sid's rights were being denied unless we were allowed to visit. She said it in legalese and Dick and I didn't understand until she explained it to us. She made some calls and we were finally permitted one visit apiece per week. Dick and I agreed that Dick would see him first on that day (Friday) and I would see him on Saturday. That way Dick could find out what Sid wanted us to do for him and I would be able to report back to him the next day. We had to be resourceful to maximize the good we could do for Sid.
I left Dick downtown and went to my old apartment. There I got cleaned up and packed my last bag. The key was left with the landlady and I settled up with her. It cost me 100 credits. I left and never looked back.
Ed was upset with me because I had missed the day before. I told him I was there to work, if he wanted to pick on me I could leave. That shut him up. He claimed I had ruined my uniform and had been overpaid in the past thus I was not entitled to my next pay. At least he paid me in full for the past week. I left not fuming, not caring. I was just relieved to have put Ed and the rest of the dweeb world behind me.
I went by my new home. It was deserted. I threw down my last bag of clothes and dressed for the bar. I had made up my mind to ask Mike to let me start to work right away. Dick had cleared a path through the debris the police had made of all of our belongings. It didn't matter.
I needed to talk to Dick and find out what Sid had told him and I needed to talk to Mike about making some money. I didn't think I could make enough to help Sid but I wanted to do what I could.
I didn't find Dick at the bar so I pinned Mike down about letting me start work. He took me to one side and talked to me for awhile. I didn't realize how tense I was until Mike let me open up on him. I told him about how I felt about being a CB. I don't remember what all I said. I just vented my anger and my disgust and my fears. He allowed me to have my whole say and he fed me gas water and pills until I was as happy as I could get. I remember laying down on a cot in the back room as Mike returned to his business. I slept in snatches and cried in between.
It was nearly closing time when Mike returned with Dick. Dick, he could tell me about Sid! I pumped him for information. Sid was alright. He had found out the guy that had sold him the amp had been killed by the police in a break-in the week before. There was still some hope that the owner of the amp could be reasoned with. A few thousand and he should be willing to forgive and forget. Sid told Dick to not bail him out. It would cost too much. He would be just fine in jail. Things didn't sound too bad. Dick had been out trying to find the amp's owner without luck. If he couldn't find him by tomorrow when I went to see Sid it would be alright. We had the usual one full month before Sid would be put on trail.
I felt much better. Mike gave me some detox and some java. Soon I was sober and tired. I was peaceful when Dick led me out of the front door of the bar. We had walked two whole blocks before I noticed that Dick wasn't taking me home.
"Where are we going Dick?"
"I have something to show you, Cookie."
"It's late. Let's just go home."
"We're almost there. This is something that might help Sid."
I perked up. "What?"
"I have a car stashed here in this building."
"A car!" I nearly shrieked. "What are you doing with a car?" A CB with a car was a rarity. A poor CB with a car was a contradiction in terms.
"I bought it. It's legal. Everything's paid for. I've been working on it hoping to get it running again. It's almost ready to start. I've been putting every credit I could into it for the last year. I figure we can sell it and use the money to buy Sid out if all else fails."
I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat. How magnanimous of Dick, how self-sacrificing! This was why I lived on the CB side of town! If this had happened on the dweeb side of town nobody would have been willing to make that kind of sacrifice to help. Take my adopted mother, for example, she would rather think I was a no good CB dealing in black market pills than believe in me. I gave Dick a warm hug.
"You're too much, man. No wonder Sid likes you."
He led me into the building and knocked on a door near it's rear. I heard some man answer from behind the door.
"Mel, it's me! I've got to get in, please." Dick shouted at the door.
I heard noises behind it then footsteps. The door was opened and there was some old man with white hair fastening the belt around his trousers.
"What are you doing here at this time of night? Who's this?" the old man asked Dick as he pulled his zipper up. He had what looked like a week's worth of white stubble on his chin and he was barefoot. He had probably been in bed when Dick and I had arrived. He was alert and had beady little eyes which he used to scrutinize me with.
"Sid's in jail. I need to sell my car."
"What happened to Sid? How'd he get in jail?"
"Long story. You don't want to hear it."
"Who's yer friend?"
"This is Cookie, she's Sid's girl."
"Hi." I greeted the man. He ignored me.
"Get in here before someone comes along. What's this about selling your car, Dick? There ain't nobody who'd want to buy it in the shape it's in now."
"It's still worth something for parts. I put 700 credits in parts in that thing this year plus what I paid for it to begin with. It's got to be worth something. It doesn't need much before it could run."
"Maybe. You don't know what you have until you take it down the road. You may find the transmission is no good. There might be anything the matter with it."
"I don't care. It's worth something. I'm not asking you to buy it. All I said was I'm going to sell it. I know it's late but can we see it. I want Cookie to see it."
"Go on in. Let me know when you leave."
"Thanks." Dick replied. He led the way into another room. That's what I thought it was until we got in there. It was a garage. A very small garage and it was filled to the brim. I could barely see the car under all the junk they had stacked on top of it. The only part that was exposed was the front where the engine was supposed to go. There was most of an engine laying in there. Some of the parts were scattered over the entire garage. I don't know much about motors but it looked to me like it would take a lot to put it all back together again. What I could see of the body of the car looked terrible. It had been bent and straightened and half painted. I had seen cars in similar condition out on the road. When I had been a dweeb we had called them 'rat traps'.
I tried to find something nice to say about it. I could feel Dick's eyes on me. "What kind is it?" I finally asked then added, "I like it. It looks good. I always liked this style."
"Don't you recognize it? It's a Furg Sonteese."
"Oh. I don't know the names of cars too well. That's the kind of car you were telling me about before wasn't it?"
"Yea, that's right. All I've got to do is fix her up a little more and I can start it. It was running when I got it but it had a rattle in it. It was about to throw a bearing in the engine."
"Who would you sell this to? I don't know of many CBs with cars."
"There's some. I know some guys who might want to buy this."
"Really?" I tried to not sound too surprised. "How much is it worth?"
"Not too much. I'd probably be doing good just to get my 700 credits back again."
I thought back to the car my father had gotten for me. It had cost about ten thousand credits--and it wasn't new. Considering the work Dick had put into his car he would never get enough for it. It wasn't a good idea for him to sell his car. "Look Dick, I think it's wonderful what you are willing to do for Sid but don't sell your car just yet. If we get into a situation where 700 credits will make the difference then if we can't raise the money any other way then sure, sell the car. Otherwise you hang onto it. I think we are going to need even more money than you and I can both get together."
"I don't mind. If it means Sid will be free then the car goes."
"If selling the car will help I won't mind asking you to do that, Dick. What I'm telling you is we are going to have to get a lot more money, even if you did sell it. We've got to get someone to sign for 8,000 more credits. Right?"
"Yea I guess, well, just keep it in mind."
"I will Dick. Now let's go home, I'm so tired I could fall asleep right here.
The whole book in zipfile format.
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