Mickey Slips (Tyler Cunningham Shorts) Read online

  After Lily had turned a corner and walked out of our lives forever, I quickly walked over to the Element, unplugged the extension cord, picked up the dirty towel, wrapped the cord around it, threw it into the back along with the traffic cone, pushed the lumber back into place, slammed the rear door and hatch, closed the hood, and was ready to drive away 28 seconds after I had turned away from Lily.

  Just then there was a tap on the passenger-side window. A Mister-Rogers-looking man, just closing the door on his 1970s era Monte Carlo made a rolling-down motion (old school), so I did, feeling my heart and respiration rate pick up a bit.

  “Everything work out?” he asked.

  It took me a second to parse out his meaning.

  “With your car … you looked to be having some car troubles, everything work out?”

  I smiled, nodded, turned the key, and when it (thankfully) started, said, “Yup, everything worked out pretty well … thanks!”

  We nodded at each other and I drove off.

  Gas ‘n’ Go, Star Lake, 1/22/2013, 2:47 p.m.

  I drove just under the speed limit all the way to Watertown, got off of Route 81 long enough to find a Walmart dumpster that I loaded with all of the leftovers of the stuff that I’d bought in the last few days. That done, I went inside to use their bathroom and load up on a bit of road food in the form of protein and caffeine (beef jerky and coke, not feeling the need for fats or carbs after my donut-tastic breakfast), and then got back on the road heading North and eventually West, back into the Park … back into the woods … back home.

  I stopped at the Gas ‘n’ Go in Star Lake, certain from past experience that I would be able to get cell service when parked at the pump, gassing up. I dialed the number of Mickey’s burner phone.

  “Tyler! I’ve been going nuts all day! Tell me you’re OK!” He shouted into the phone, not even noticing that I was calling from a different number.

  “Easy Mickey, you’ll run out of exclamation points.” I said, “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to get home before calling you (a slight exaggeration that he wouldn’t understand, but that I felt I could be excused for). You’re off the hook with Lily and Shane, it’s as if the video never existed. Nobody got hurt (not 100% true, but he didn’t need to know). You can head home whenever you want. What you tell Anne and the girls is entirely up to you … if you asked me, I’d advise you to say that you were mugged, which you essentially were.” I stopped talking to let him in, knowing that by now he’d be waiting.

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking during my imprisonment at the Airport Radisson, and I have decided to go with what I call the ‘Mugging-Plus’ explanation. The girls will hear that I was mugged, and beaten, and woke up in the hospital. Anne will get the full story.” I cringed as he finished.

  “Mickey … the full story could involve some significant trouble for me, and maybe even for you if absolutely everything came out. Don’t get me wrong, you do whatever you think/feel is right, but it may bring some substantial headaches for you and Anne … and me.” I was surprised to find that I wasn’t lying when I told Mickey to do what he thought was best.

  “That’s sweet of you Ty, but by the full story, I meant that Anne gets to hear about my screw-up and Lily, not what you may, or may not, have done to get me out of trouble. My plan in that department is to tell her nothing about the proposed extortion, just leave it at drugged infidelity and a mugging.”

  “I still think it’s a lousy idea, but you’re a much better person than I am, so it must be the right thing to do.” I replied, to which he chuckled … as he always did when we talked about my not being exactly the same species as him.

  “I assume that you will have some loose ends to tie up in Syracuse with the police and hospital and maybe some of your colleagues? If you tell me ahead of time, I can meet you there and buy you the best lunch you’ve had in years.” I offered. Mickey gets up so early every day for work that lunch is his big family, and talking, meal.

  “That’s nice, Tyler, I will be coming up in a few weeks to deal with some of the aftermath of the last few days, but I’ll also be coming up to Saranac Lake for a visit after I finish up, and I expect you to do the right thing and talk with me about how you were able to rescue me.” I heaved a deep internal sigh, and tried to imagine how I could dodge his questions.

  “And don’t waste time trying to aim that great melon of yours at the problem of dodging my questions. I’ve known you all of your life, and you’re a horrible liar. You had something to do with fixing that creep up in Malone a couple of years ago. You were into something last summer which has had an impact on you physically, the range of motion in your left arm and shoulder is diminished, and you’re too thin. You were able to come up with some solution to my problem in seconds after hearing about it.”

  Mickey, what you’re saying is …” He cut me off.

  “Stop. I’ve always known that your mind works differently … if you’ve found a way to make that work for you, and also help people, I’m all for it. I just need to know what it is, and that you approach what you do with some form of moral compass, or a reasonable facsimile.”

  I don’t think that I necessarily do have a moral compass, but my actions always make sense to me, and are based on my understanding of the situation and the preservation/restoration of order, as I see it … I hoped that would be enough for Mickey.

  “OK Mickey, just tell me when, and I’ll make sure that I’m in town and presentable. You can meet my dog, Hope, then too.”

  “Sounds good Tyler, I’ll call you next week when I know more.” We ended the call in our usual way, “Love you, boy!” Mickey said, with a slightly thick voice.

  “Love you too, Mickey.” I answered.

  I filled up the Element, picked up some road and camping food, and headed for a chunk of State Forest Preserve I’d been wanting to explore. I set up camp, made a big campfire (mostly for Frank’s sake, so that when I ran into him tomorrow morning, I’d smell like camping), enjoyed a few hours of quiet and cold and dark (unlike anything that could be found in Syracuse), and then climbed into my hammock, happy to be back in the woods, back in the Park, back in my world.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Jamie Sheffield lives in the Adirondack Park with his wife and son and two dogs, Miles and Puck. When he's not writing mysteries, he's probably camping or exploring the last great wilderness in the Northeast. He has been a Special Education Teacher in the Lake Placid Central School District for the last fifteen years. Besides writing, Jamie loves cooking and reading and dogs and all manner of outdoor pursuits.

  Look for his debut novel

  "Here Be Monsters"

  and

  Follow the ongoing adventures of Tyler Cunningham

  and other works by the author.

  Visit Jamie Sheffield’s website:

  www.jamiesheffield.com

  and his Amazon.com Author Page:

  http://www.amazon.com/Jamie-Sheffield/e/B00AVJVYHS