J. D. Oliver

As the Eagle Flies


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what we were talking about. The pickpocket’s, not the other, she hears that all of the time.

      We got there just as the man sort of stumbled in front of the older couple, the older gentleman reached out to steady him and the woman made the dip. Just as she had his wallet clear, my hand clamped like a vise on her wrist. Her eyes flashed up at me, but she didn’t struggle.

      The interference man made a dive at me, Faith pushed the front of the stroller into his path, he tripped over it and fell flat on the sidewalk. Faith stepped on his neck and held him firmly to the concrete. Every time he tried to struggle, she pressed a little harder, cutting off his wind. The hand off kid stood there, not knowing what to do.

      If looks could kill, I would be dead… The woman’s eyes were spitting fire at me. “You ought to mind your own business, if you knew what was good for you.” She said.

      “Strange thing about that, I never do know what is good for me. And evidently you don’t either. If the three of you are pro’s, you’re not very good.” I said, as I took the billfold out of her hand and handed it back to Charles.

      Just then a cop showed up, after a short explanation he took both of them into custody. The kid was still standing just around the corner, peeking at us. We didn’t say anything to the cop about the kid. The kid didn’t think anybody knew he was with them. I jerked my head at Faith, nodding toward the kid. I took the stroller and continued to talk to the Hesters. Faith moseyed over closer to the kid. I could see that she was talking to him.

      After agreeing to let the Hesters buy us supper, I walked over to where Faith and the kid were still talking. As I got closer, I could see that I was mistaken, he wasn’t a he, he was a she, but she was still a kid, looked to be twelve or thirteen.

      She had short red hair and freckles. Faith turned to me, “Clay I would like you to meet, Rosie O’Claire, an orphan. That is till the two pickpockets became her foster parents. They were training her in the ways of the nefarious. And since we have removed her meal ticket, I guess we’re stuck with her for awhile anyway.”

      “So Rosie”, I asked, were they from Santa Fe, or what?”

      “No”, she said, in a pleasant contralto voice, “they have a place in Las Vegas, Nevada. They said they had a short job to do down here, they just got a call the day before yesterday, we got down here last night. They had a picture of the old couple they tried to rob. Their car is over here, I have a key to it.”

      “Well, how about that, do you have clothes in the car?” Faith said.

      “Yes, I have an over night bag; with one change of clothes and my tooth brush and stuff.”

      “Okay,” I said, “lets go get your stuff, plus I would like to see what they left in the car; like papers and whatever.” We walked over to a late model ‘caddy’. In the cubby hole was an envelope, with said picture, plus a short note from; guess who, nobody but Dipper Tick. It read, ‘get Charles Hester’s wallet, he carries his social security card and a certified copy of his birth certificate with him. I need it to get in his safe deposit box’.

      I took the envelope with me. I don’t know how he was going to get in that safe deposit box without a key, but who knows, maybe he had his ways. I knew the two pickpockets would make bail right quick. Dipper Tick was probably in there right now trying to get them out.

      I asked Rosie, “Do you want to stay with them, or go with us, it’s up to you. Do they have legal custody of you or what?”

      “I want to go with you, Blackie, that was the guys name, tried to get in bed with me the other night, but she caught him. I know it would only be a matter of time till he raped me. And I don’t think this foster thing was legal anyway. They knew somebody at the orphanage, I was sort of handed out the back door late one night.”

      “Do they know you had that key to their car?” Faith asked.

      “No, I had an extra key made, they did not know. I was going to steal their car and get away the first chance I got.” Rosie said.

      “Alright then, you put your overnight bag back in the car; is there anything in there that you simply can’t live without?”

      “Yes, my birth certificate, my parents were killed in an auto accident, I carry my birth certificate and social security card in there.”

      “Get them out, but leave the bag; we’ll buy you anything you need. I’ll jimmy the door lock, so it will look like someone broke in. But how do we know someone won’t break in before they get out of jail anyway?”

      As we were walking back to the truck, Faith asked Rosie, “Just how old are you?”

      “I’m twelve, I’ll be thirteen in December.”

      “Only twelve, you seem much older than that, I guess you’ve led a hard life. How long ago did your parents die?” Faith asked.

      “Five years ago, they were both orphans themselves, so we didn’t have any relatives; that I knew of anyway.”

      “Well, I guess that’s why you seem much older. Experience wise, you’re like in your twenty’s. What about schooling, what grade are you in?”

      “I don’t know, I haven’t gone very much. But I do a lot of reading. And I have been taking some courses on the computer, I’m pretty smart, I guess.” Rosie said.

      We arrived at the truck and right away I seen we had a problem. The cab of a 1950 Ford Pickup, especially with a built in car seat, was not big enough for the four of us.

      I stood there scratching my head, Faith spoke up, “you know I never really liked this truck anyway. But I know who does, the man who did most of the work on it has a shop just a few streets over. When Teddy died he tried to buy it from me, but at that time I wasn’t thinking straight. Maybe he has something bigger? Should we go see?”

      “Yeah, I guess so.” I said, “But maybe Rosie can sit on your lap, if it’s just a short way?” We put Alita in her seat, and we all piled in, Faith and Rosie were a little cramped, but they’d live.

      His shop was behind a southwest style house with a lot of trees around it. As we pulled into his driveway and shut it off, he came out of the shop; he must of heard us. We all got out, he recognized Faith right away. “Hey Faith, you ready to sell me that truck, looks like you need more room?” He said. He was young man, a little older than me, say in his thirties.

      “Yes, Hector I am,” Faith said, then added, “but not just sell, I would like to trade for something bigger but with all of the trimmings.”

       “I have just the vehicle for you, a new Durango I just reworked, the same goodies that your truck has. I’ll trade you for just 5,000 difference.”

      “5,000 huh? Yeah, but you see, mine’s a classic, the Durango is just a new truck, a dime a dozen. I’ll tell you what, I know how bad you want this truck. I’ll trade for 3,000 difference, how’s that?” Faith said.

      “Alright, if you wasn’t Teddy’s widow, I wouldn’t do it. But cash, no credit cards.” Hector said.

      Faith looked at me, “Sweetheart, will you pay him? I don’t have that much cash on me.”

      “Yeah, no problem.” I said, as I pulled out my billfold and counted out 3,000. I know why she traded him down, she knew I only had 3,000 in cash with me. Faith handed Hector the money, then said,

      “Hector, this is my husband, Clay Bronson. This is Rosie O’Claire a new friend of ours. I assume you have the title for this vehicle?”

      “Sure, and already notarized. What about yours?”

      “It’s in the cubby hole, I’ll sign it.” And she got it out and did the same. Then we changed our stuff over. He was right about one thing; the Durango had a child car seat.

      “Oh yeah, that switch on the dash turns on the turbo-charger, be careful with it; make sure you have plenty of room ahead before you hit it. Otherwise on cruising speed