The First Councel

The cop walks away from me and heads back to his car. Five minutes go by and I climb into the driver’s seat of my Jeep. Nora’s next to me, but she’s brutally quiet. She looks my way and offers a faint smile. I try to smile back, but she turns away. I could kill her for taking that cash. Why the hell would she be so stupid? I mean, what would she even use it for? My mind jumps back to her so-called aspirin, but I’m not ready to believe the worst. Not yet.

Staring vacantly out the window, she’s resting her chin in the palm of her hand. The way her shoulders sag, I realize the eyes of the world are always on her. It never lets up. Eventually, the cop returns with a pink slip that’s marked “Confirmation of Receipt.”

“Where’s my money?” I ask.

“As long as it’s clean, you’ll get every cent of it back.” Reading my confused expression, he adds, “If our boys on the street are unavailable to make an ID, we can legally hold your cash as the likely proceeds of a criminal act.” He’s not smiling, but I can tell he’s loving every minute of this. “Now does that check out with you, Mr. Attorney-at-Large, or do you want to speak to my sergeant yourself?”

I shake my head, calculating the consequences in my head. “When do I get it back?”

“Give us a call next week.” He knows we’re not selling drugs; he’s just doing this to bust my chops. Leaning in toward the window, he adds, “And just so we’re clear… ” He motions to Nora, who’s still sitting next to me. “I’m not blind, boy. I just don’t need the headache that comes along with this.”

Unnerved by the confidence in his voice, I shrink down in my seat. He knew who she was all along.

“And one last thing… ” He reaches in the window and slaps a piece of paper against my chest. “Here’s your speeding ticket.”

***

Ten minutes later, Nora and I have returned to downtown D.C. and are heading straight for the White House. The adrenaline bath with every spigot open is now finally over. The cut on my forehead hurts and my stomach’s churning, but all I really feel is numb. Numb and out of control. My eyes are locked on the road, while my thumbs are shaking as they tap against the top of the steering wheel. The casual repetition is a vain attempt to fight fear, but it’s not fooling anyone. Including me. Being nailed with the cash, I’m not only known by the cops-I’m officially, on paper, tied to that money and whatever it was paying for.

Neither of us has said a word since the cops left. Watching me, Nora sees the pace of my thumb-tapping quickly increase. Finally, she breaks the silence. “You doing okay?” she asks.

All I do is nod.

“I appreciate what you did for me back there,” she offers.

My eyes stay glued to the road. “It’s okay,” I say coldly.

“I’m serious.”

“I told you, it’s okay. It’s not that big a-”

“It is a big deal. It really is-that’s not something that happens to me every day.”

“I would hope not,” I blurt angrily.

She pauses for a moment, sensing I’m about to boil. “You know what I mean, Michael. The way you acted… it wasn’t just for you. You did it for-” She once again stops-this doesn’t come naturally for her. “Thank you, Michael. It meant a lot to me.”

An hour ago, I would’ve done anything to hear those words. Right now, though, I couldn’t care less.

“Say what you’re thinking,” she says.

I brake to a sharp stop at a red light. Turning to my right, I take a long, hard look at her. “What do you think I’m thinking? Why the hell’d you take the money?”

She crosses her arms and lets out that little girl laugh.

“You think it’s a joke?” I shout.

“Not at all,” she says, suddenly serious. “Not after what you did.”

I’m not in the mood for compliments. “Just tell me why you took it.”

“Honestly? I’m not sure. I ran up, grabbed the flashlight, and saw the envelope. Part of me thought we should take it as evidence, so I went for it. I thought it’d be an easy way to prove Simon was there-but after the first ten grand, I got scared and ran.”

It’s not a bad explanation, but it comes too easily. For Nora, it’s too rational. “So all you wanted was some proof?”

“I’m telling you-that was it.”

I keep staring at her.

“What? You don’t believe me?”

“Are you kidding? Give me one good reason why I-”

“Michael, I swear to you, if I could take it back I would. There’s no easier way to say it.” Her voice cracks, catching me by surprise. Right there, her guard drops-and the gnawing feeling inside my chest subsides. “I’m sorry,” she cries, leaning in next to me. “I’m so sorry I put you in that position. I never… I should’ve just left it there and walked away.”

In the back of my brain, I still picture that brown vial of aspirin… but in front of my eyes-all I see is Nora. The look on her face… the way her thin eyebrows rise and wilt as she apologizes… she’s as terrified as I am. Not just for herself. But for me. Glancing down, I notice her hand tightly clutching my own. From there, the words come out of my mouth almost instantly. “It was an impulse. You couldn’t have known.”

“You still didn’t have to do it,” she points out.