Dodos

by Al Lamanda

  “Oh, my, yes,” Wheezer said. “Just wonderful.”

  “Can we forget the…” Gavin said.

  “A perfect compliment to the roast,” Ian said.

  “Lip smacking,” Wheezer said.

  “Eat and shut up,” Gavin snapped.

  “No problem,” Ian said as he shoveled in food.

  “Same here,” Wheezer said as he shoveled in food.

  Gavin filled his lungs with air and let it out slowly to control his temper. Under control, he said, “You bring everything?”

  “In my briefcase,” Wheezer said. “We’ll talk right after we’re finished eating.”

  “Oh, hey, that reminds me,” Ian said. “There was a box of Napoleons in the fridge. I took’em out to soften up a bit. I’ll make fresh coffee as soon as we’re done.”

  Gavin shifted his gaze to the white box on the counter. “It’s a box of three, isn’t it?” he said.

  His mouth full of Gavin’s dinner, Ian nodded.

  “I’ll be in the living room,” Gavin said. “I have some notes to make.”

  Ian and Wheezer, chins full of juice, nodded in unison.

  Gavin returned to the sofa where he read and made some additional notes. As he stared at his notebook, he slowly went to the place Patience referred to as “The Zone.” All outside noise was locked out as his mind zeroed in on the job at hand. Gears turned, details flowed, problems and solutions arose. If the TV was on, he didn’t see it. If the radio was on, he didn’t hear it. One thing and one thing only was known to break his concentration.

  Smack…smack…smack…

  Gavin slowly raised his eyes. Ian was in the easy chair opposite the sofa. He was eating a Napoleon with a fork, his mug of coffee on a table tray next to him. Next to Ian, in the recliner, Wheezer ate his Napoleon with his fingers. They looked at Gavin.

  Gavin looked at the Napoleon on Ian’s plate. “And mine?” he said.

  “Oh, hey…smack, smack, smack…we figured since you weren’t hungry for dinner…smack, smack, smack…you weren’t hungry for dessert,” Ian said.

  “We divided the third between us,” Wheezer said.

  “You did?” Gavin said.

  “Sure,” Ian said happily, as he shoved a large hunk of Napoleon into his mouth.

  “Well, whenever you two finish your dessert and coffee, I have some details I’d like to discuss,” Gavin said.

  “Sure,” Ian said.

  “No problem,” Wheezer said.

  At the kitchen table, Gavin studied Wheezer’s detailed reports and photographs. The aerial photos of the rooftops were crisp with excellent resolution, showing a glass egress dome on the roof of the science club and comedy club. The alarm reports were extensive, the blueprints exact of each contact, motion and vibration detector. A recent addition on the third floor of a wired humidifier had to be where the egg was secured. The police station was mere blocks away, as was the fire department. Response time would be quick, minutes at best. There was also the private security response time to deal with, but that would be slower.

  Gavin looked at Ian. He was now eating a huge hunk of chocolate cake and sipping fresh coffee.

  “Where did you get that?” Gavin said.

  “Your freezer,” Ian said. “It’s not quite defrosted, but if you think of it as ice cream cake, it’s not half bad.”

  “I especially like the frozen chocolate chips,” Wheezer said.

  Gavin stared at Ian.

  “There goes that purple vein on his neck again,” Ian said. “You see that, Wheeze?”

  “Very distressing,” Wheezer said.

  “You see what I have to put up with,” Ian said.

  “Maybe we should do this at another time?” Wheezer suggested.

  “Are you done?” Gavin said. “Are you through?”

  “Hey,” Ian said.

  “Sure,” Wheezer said.

  “Good,” Gavin said. “Ian, find Fubar, his idiot cousin and Johnny Peru. Tell them five o’clock tomorrow at the pub. Can you handle that?”

  “Sure,” Ian said.

  “Wheezer, you, too,” Gavin said.

  “In for a penny,” Wheezer said.

  “One other thing,” Gavin said. “Find out…”

  “In for a penny, what?” Ian said.

  “What?” Wheezer said.

  “Can we…?” Gavin said.

  “You said, in for a penny,” Ian said. “What’s that mean?”

  “In for a pound,” Wheezer said.

  “A pound of what?” Ian said.

  “My fist is about a pound,” Gavin said. “Would you like to see it?”

  “Hey, he said it, not me,” Ian said.

  “Forget what he said and listen to me,” Gavin said. “Also, we’ll need…”

  “I am listening,” Ian said.

  “No, you’re talking,” Gavin said.

  “Well, I’m listening,” Wheezer said. “Continue.”

  “We’ll need Muffie-Jo again,” Gavin said.

  Wheezer looked at Ian.

  “No more high heels and mini skirts,” Ian said. “No more seducing a room full of morons.”

  Wheezer started to wheeze.

  “Nothing like that this time,” Gavin said. “She just has to look her normal self.”

  “No bullet bras?” Ian said.

  Wheezer started to wheeze louder and rock back and forth.

  “I just said normal, didn’t I?” Gavin said.

  “That mini skirt with the slit up the side you had her parading around in…” Ian said. “Her legs hanging out.”

  Rocking back and forth, Wheezer pulled out his mini oxygen tank and started sucking air.

  “What the hell’s the matter with him?” Ian said.

  Gavin stared at Wheezer’s mini oxygen tank and another piece of the puzzle fell into place. “Perfect,” he said.

  “What?” Ian said.

  Gavin nodded at Wheezer. “Him.”

  Ian looked at Wheezer, who was rocking and sucking air through his little tank, looking very much like an asthmatic Humpty Dumpty. “Really?” Ian said.

  Wheezer rocked back and forth until he removed the tank from his mouth and slammed it on the table. “Damn right!” he yelled.

  “Anymore of that frozen cake?” Gavin said.

  Ian stood up, yanked open the fridge and removed the box of chocolate cake. “In for a penny,” he said as he set the box on the table.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Snow gently fell as Gavin and Ian strolled along Amsterdam Avenue toward The Broadway Pub. The flakes were large and fluffy, the kind of snow children delighted playing in and shopkeepers brushed away with brooms.

  “The news didn’t say anything about snow,” Ian said.

  “You never listen to the news,” Gavin said.

  “But, I would have heard,” Ian said.

  “How?”

  “You hear things, you know.”

  “Speaking of hearing things, did everybody get back to you about the meeting?”

  “Five o’clock like you said.”

  “So let’s go in,” Gavin said as they reached the door to the pub.

  “Let’s,” In said as he opened the door.

  Gavin scooted around Ian and cocked an eye at the empty booth in the rear beside the window. Before he and Ian even sat, Garko was at the table.

  “Back so soon, gents?” Garko chirped.

  “I just love giving you money,” Gavin said.

  “And I love taking it,” Garko said.

  “A picture of your finest beer on tap,” Ian said.

  “One glass or two?” Garko said.

  “Two,” Gavin said.

  “And a basket of peanuts,” Ian said.

  “Shelled or un?” Garko said.

  “Un,” Ian said.

  “Coming right up,” Garko said and dashed back to the bar.

  Gavin looked at his watch. “Five on the nose,” he said.

  Ian and Gavin stared at the front door for sixty seconds unti
l it opened and Wheezer came lumbering through. He paused to shake snow off his parka, removed the little tank from his mouth, looked around, spotted Gavin and Ian and walked to the table.

  “Really starting to come down now,” Wheezer said as he sat next to Ian.

  Gavin looked out the window. The gently falling flakes had picked up steam. He could barely see across the street. He turned back when Garko arrived with the beer and Peanuts.

  “Maker’s Mark, unopened bottle,” Garko said to Wheezer.

  “Have you an eight year or older bottle that’s been sitting in the basement perhaps?” Wheezer said.

  “I do,” Garko said.

  “Bring it,” Wheezer said.

  “Excellent,” Garko said and dashed away.

  Ian and Wheezer dipped their fingers into the peanut basket, then shoved unshelled peanuts into their mouths.

  Gavin took a tiny sip of his beer.

  “So what are we…?” Wheezer said.

  “Wait for the others,” Gavin said. “That way we only have to go over this once.”

  Ian and Wheezer dipped into the basket for more peanuts. Gavin stared at them as they chewed.

  Garko appeared with the Maker’s Mark, set it down and dashed away.

  “Ya know, I never knew the shells were so delicious,” Ian said.

  “Let’s keep it our secret,” Wheezer said.

  “Who am I gonna tell?” Ian said.

  The front door opened again and Fubar and Snafu blundered in, covered in a white layer of snow. They shook like dogs and snow flew everywhere. They stomped their feet to remove snow from their boots and walked to the table.

  “Boy, it’s really coming down out there,” Fubar said as he sat next to Gavin.

  “A regular avalanche,” Snafu said as he sat next to Wheezer.

  Chugging Maker’s Mark from the bottle, Wheezer set it down and looked at Snafu. “An avalanche is a…”

  “Later,” Gavin said. “Wheezer, next to you is Snafu. Next to me is his cousin Fubar. All we’re waiting on is…”

  “Your name is Wheezer,” Fubar said, rather delighted.

  “It’s a nickname, really,” Wheezer said. “And you’re hardly one to cast stones about names, buddy boy.”

  Garko arrived at the table. “The party has grown. What shall it be, boys?”

  Fubar eyed Wheezer’s bottle of Maker’s Mark. “What’s that?”

  “That is the most expensive bourbon you can buy in this bar,” Garko said.

  “You got an unopened bottle with dust on it?” Fubar said.

  “I do,” Garko said.

  “Make it two,” Snafu said. “And an extra basket of these peanuts.”

  Wheezer took another hit from his bottle and looked at Fubar. “You’re the car man,” he said and looked at Snafu. “And you’re the electronics expert.”

  “That’s us,” Fubar said. “And what’s your specialty?”

  “He wheezes a lot,” Ian said.

  “Well, that hardly seems useful on a job,” Fubar said.

  “Wheezer was a supplier to the CIA,” Gavin said. “Electronics, gadgets, name it and he found it. Made a lot of them himself, too.”

  “He gave us this pen that…” Ian said.

  “Later,” Gavin said. “We need…”

  The door opened one more time and Johnny Peru stepped in looking like the abdominal snowman. He shook, stomped and flicked snow off his ponytail, turned and walked to the table.

  “Boy oh boy, it’s really coming down out there,” Peru said as he slid in next to Snafu.

  “A white out,” Snafu said.

  “And cold,” Fubar said.

  “This is nothing compared to where we went,” Ian said. “Like Alaska cold that…”

  “Later,” Gavin said. “Johnny, you know everyone here except Wheezer.”

  “Wheezer?” Peru said. “Why they call you that?”

  “Mention my wife,” Ian said. “See what happens.”

  Once again, Garko arrived at the table with two more bottles of Maker’s Mark. “Rye, scotch, bourbon and a black coffee,” he said to Peru.

  “And keep’em coming,” Peru said.

  Garko dashed back to the bar.

  Gavin removed a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and spread it out on the table. “Here’s the job,” he said and spoke for twenty minutes, stopping once to allow Garko to set a tray of drinks before Peru.

  Except for Gavin, everybody ate unshelled peanuts and swilled their drinks.

  “All this over an egg,” Snafu said. “The supermarket’s full of them. I think they come by the dozen last time I looked.”

  “They got these cartons with eighteen in them,” Fubar said.

  “Nobody has a refrigerator with that tray in it that takes eighteen,” Snafu said.

  “Well, they sell’em,” Fubar said.

  “For this to work, things have…” Gavin said.

  “Some refrigerators have two of those egg trays,” Ian said. “That could hold eighteen.”

  “But you’d be short six,” Snafu said.

  “But, they would still fit,” Ian said.

  “Or you could just buy two dozen eggs,” Wheezer said.

  “Yes, well,” Ian said.

  “The only egg I want to talk about is the egg we’re going to steal,” Gavin said.

  “Sure thing,” Fubar said.

  “No problem,” Snafu said.

  “All this talk about eggs has made me hungry,” Peru said.

  “Ya know, me too,” Ian said.

  Gavin closed his eyes and rubbed his hand through his hair while he silently counted to twenty.

  Ian nudged Wheezer. “There’s that purple vein again.”

  Wheezer looked at Gavin’s neck. “Yes.”

  “Never mind the…” Gavin said.

  “Where?” Fubar said.

  “Let me see,” Snafu said.

  “Right there, see it,” Ian pointed.

  “Oh, yes,” Fubar said.

  “Looks painful,” Snafu said. “What causes it?”

  Peru looked at Gavin, who was glaring at Ian with seething rage. “I think I know,” he said.

  “Can we continue now?” Gavin said.

  “Oh, sure,” Ian said.

  Gavin glared at Ian and said, “Fubar, I need a car on the government recall list. The one where the gas pedal sticks. Can you get one?”

  “I can get a dozen,” Fubar said. “No one wants that piece of junk anymore.”

  “One will do,” Gavin said. “Can you rig it to explode when driven backwards and it hits something?”

  “Something?” Fubar said.

  “Specifically, the plate glass window of the Science Club,” Gavin said.

  “If you mean the gas tank, they just don’t explode like in the movies,” Fubar said. “They sort of just burn of just leak. Maybe you should talk to Double D on the exploding thing.”

  “I will,” Gavin nodded. “Wheezer, can you get together with Snafu and figure out a way to make all city stoplights stay red when we pull the job?”

  Wheezer looked at Snafu. “Shouldn’t be too hard to hack into city programming,” he said.

  “I can make it easy for you,” Snafu said. “I can take a walk around the streets by the Science Club and get the grid numbers. Hell, they write them right there on the damn things if you know where to look. All we’d need to do is program that one grid.”

  “Excellent,” Wheezer said.

  “Johnny,” Gavin said. “The night we pull the job, you’ll be driving the car. You’ll be parking along the curb when the gas pedal will stick and you’ll drive up the curb and through the window into the lobby, setting off the alarms. Ian and I will be in the trunk and we…”

  “We’ll be in the trunk?” Ian said. “You never said that.”

  “I’m saying it now.”

  “No, see, I have gastrophia,” Ian said. “Small places make me…”

  “What the hell is gastrophia?” Fubar said.

&
nbsp; “I think I know,” Snafu said. “It’s the fear of farts. I was in this hospital once where…”

  “Fear of farts?” Fubar said. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I believe Mr. Nelson is referring to claustrophobia,” Wheezer said.

  “Oh, and what’s that, the fear of closets?” Snafu said.

  “Not closet, claustro,” Wheezer said. “It’s the…”

  “Never mind what it is or what it isn’t,” Gavin snapped. “Ian, you’re in the trunk with me.”

  “You said the car explodes,” Ian said. “I’m not too keen on that myself.”

  “After we exit the trunk and enter the building,” Gavin said. “Then it explodes. Wheezer, we’ll need a couple of those little tanks of oxygen for when we’re in the trunk.”

  “For Ian’s farting problem?” Snafu said.

  “In case the exhaust…” Gavin said.

  “I don’t have a farting problem,” Ian snapped.

  “I was at this hospital once where…” Snafu said.

  “After we exit the trunk, all hell will break loose,” Gavin said. “Alarms will go off throughout the building, but when the police and fire arrive, they will think it’s because of the car crashing through the window. Ian and I will steal the egg, go up to the roof and use bolt cutters to break the interior lock on the skylight and enter the roof. We’ll cross over to the roof of the comedy club and here’s where it gets tricky.”

  Snafu looked at Ian and held his nose. “Somebody farted,” he said.

  “I don’t have a…” Ian said.

  “Shut up,” Gavin snapped. “Or so help me God the only problem you won’t have is a farting problem.”

  “Make him stop saying that,” Ian said.

  Gavin turned to Snafu. “Stop saying that.”

  “Hey,” Snafu said.

  “Johnny, when the cops show up you’ll have to play the innocent victim,” Gavin said. “With all the accidents with those recall cars it should be a cinch. Now here’s where it gets tricky. For Ian and me to enter the comedy club, someone has to be on the inside and when the accident happens, you have to go up and break the lock on the roof skylight. I figure Muffie-Jo and one of you can be taking in the show and it should be a snap to sneak away in all the commotion. Who wants to be Muffie-Jo’s date?”

  Wheezer suddenly started to wheeze and rock back and forth.

  “Once we’re inside the comedy club, I’ll stash the egg in Muffie-Jo’s purse on the long shot the police enter the club and recognize me,” Gavin said.