joegoda | Playing the odds

Say it's only a paper moon sailing over a cardboard sea,
But it wouldn't be make-believe if you believed in me.
Yes, it's only a canvas sky handing over a muslin tree,
But it wouldn't be make-believe if you believed in me.
Without your love it's a honky-tonk parade,
Without your love it's a melody played in a penny arcade.
It's a Barnum & Bailey world, just as phony as it can be,
But it wouldn't be make-believe if you believed in me.

He was sitting in a Denny's in lower NY when he heard about the fire that consumed the building that used to have his apartment in it. After he got rid of the girl, he figured that he had pushed his luck just enough, and figured he was lucky to have escaped notice for 15 years. He had hoped that the folks that ran The Farm had simply faded away, like the vermin that they were, but now he knew that it just wasn't to be.

Of course, he had no idea where they were base out of now, and he didn't really care. He just knew that he wasn't going back to that life, and he knew that they would just as soon kill him as let him walk free. That much had been proven to him last night, when the brick next to his face exploded from the bullet that just barely missed him.

He packed his bag with a few clothes and twenty thousand dollars, hid more than that in various pockets, and hit the road. Walking and hitching were the best disguse. Anonymous, hard to trace, and fairly random. That was the way to go.

So here he was.. in a Denny's just outside of the Allegany State Park, eating a Grand Slam with lots of syrup. Denny's was one of his favorite places, because it was one of the places he could remember from his childhood... before it all went to hell at the farm.

He figured he'd keep moving till he got to where he felt safe, till it just felt... right. In his head he kept a picture of the Golden Gate bridge. It was as good a place to aim for as any. He just had to keep moving.

"Tom!", a voice called out. "Well, I'll be duck-fucked.. How the hell are you? It's been a coon's age and more since I saw you." A man wearing plaid and waders scooted in the booth across from him. 'Who the hell?' thought David. "Um.. Hi?", he said.

"Well, son, don't you remember me? I know it's been a few years, but I sure as heck remember you. I gave you a ride from here to upstate about 3 years ago. You gave me a tip on a horse, and I played it, and won big. Even though I told you it was a long shot, you told me to play it, and I did, and I'll be double damned if it didn't win. Bought me a new rig, bought some land near a lake and that's what I do. Well, I still have to work.. I mean, I didn't win that much, and the divorce took most of the rest, but I don't have to work that hard. Did a bit of shrewed investing, just for the long run.", he winked.

David sorted quickly through his memories. "Umm... Shawn, right?"

"Close. O'Shaunesy. Mike O'Shaunesy, but you could call me Shawn if you want to. I've been calld worse things by worse folks. How the hell are you, man?" The waitress came up, and Mike ordered coffee, no cream thankyouverymuch, a French Slam, a side of scrambles, a side of links, and a side of biscuits and gravy.

"Oh, you know," began David. "Ups and downs. Right now, I think I'm headed towards the other coast. Heard there may be some work for me out there. Times here weren't so good to me."

"I hear ya, I hear ya. Well, listen... can I give you a lift? I remember you don't drive, so you must be walking, and it's a damn far walk between here and the Pacific."

"Tell you what, Mike. If you let me finish my breakfast, you can give me a lift as far south as you can take me, and I'll take it the rest of the way."

"No problem, Tom. I got my own breakfast coming, and then, a day of fishing, sleeping, and maybe, just maybe, I'll decide to work."

** author note.. it's 1:30 am.. time for bed.. but there's more coming, really**