Page 31 - WTP VOl. XI #1

along with some pieces of cheese. Then another slice of bread for himself.
Then he thought about the man’s comment that the house contained lots of expensive things. He put down the plate silently and crept back to the living room, padding softly along the tile.
Seeing Mitch sneak in, the man laughed. “It’s all still here, dude,” he said.
“It’s not like that,” Mitch said. “I was just—” But then he stopped, unable to think of an excuse for return- ing.
“I’m sadly disappointed in you, Mitch. Listen, back on Second Avenue I stayed almost a month, an’ I never took nothin’ of yours upon my sad departure. In fact, I left somethin’ of my own behind.”
Mitch felt his stomach tighten, recalling the money he had found. “What was that?” he asked.
“A part of myself,” the man said. “I’m part of every- thing I’ve met. You wouldn’t unnerstand.”
“Look, I just came out to see if bread and cheese was okay. My wife baked some bread.”
“Perfect.”
“And something to drink? Beer, maybe wine?”
The man’s laugh sounded derisive. “Yeah, that’s just what somebody like you would think I’d want. But just water. And ice, if that ain’t askin’ too much.”
Forcing down the urge to respond, Mitch returned to the kitchen, then came back with the food and ice- water.
“Muchas gracias, compadre,” the man said, smiling as if the tension of a few moments earlier had never existed.
Before sitting back down, Mitch placed a coaster under the ice-water. The man chuckled.
“It’s just, the wood—” Mitch began.
“No, it’s cool. Always use protection. A coaster, a con- dom, whatever. Otherwise...”
The man’s voice trailed off as he grinned and made a vague, sweeping gesture toward the contents of the
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“He was thinking about identity-theft
con artists who coaxed money from the elderly
by pretending to be, say, a grandson. Maybe the rea- son the man didn’t look like the driver’s license pic- ture was simple: he wasn’t the man in the picture.”
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