Life o’ Crime

I QUIT!”

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. That’s it—no turning back anymore.

Sergeants Fish and Pittman look at me like I’m scum, but everyone else cheers. They’re planning the No-More-Weak-Link party.

Half an hour later, I’m sitting on my suitcase by the side of the road at Rocky Mountain High Base Camp, waiting for Mom to come pick me up. With any luck, I’ll be eating cheeseburgers by sundown! Sure she’ll be mad, but she’ll get over it, right?

Except, that’s when I hit my first glitch.

I wait for an hour.

Then two hours.

Five hours.

Fifteen.

After three days, I get the hint. Mom’s not coming. This was my last chance to prove I could be a good son, and I blew it.

So I start walking. What choice do I have? I pick a direction, stick out my thumb, and hope for the best. Maybe someone will take pity on me, the lonely quitter.

Eighty miles later, someone does. A rusted-out pickup truck pulls over, and I hop in. I’m so tired, I don’t even think about who might be behind the wheel.

Besides, how am I supposed to know he just escaped from prison or something?

My new friend’s name is Rocco. It doesn’t take long to find out he’s a real desperado—but so am I now. That practically makes us family. We’re going to stick together.

Next thing you know, I’m watching the parking lot for cops while Rocco knocks off an all-night convenience store… or two… or three. By the time the sun comes up, I’ve got fifty bucks in my pocket and a nasty case of brain freeze from all those slushees we stole. (I just can’t resist that blue raspberry.)

Rocco and I make a good team, so we just keep going. The newspapers start calling us R&R, for Rocco and Rafe, but the cops can’t pin us down. We’re like ghosts. So we hop from state to state, and trade up to bigger jobs as we go.

Before you can say “I knew he’d turn out this way,” there I am, wearing a Bugs Bunny mask and telling some lady at the First National Bank of Tucson to fill a bag with unmarked twenties.

It’s our biggest job yet, but this can’t go on forever. Rocco tells me we’d better split up and lie low until things cool off. It’s for the best, he says.

I sure am going to miss him, though. He’s like the incredibly dangerous, no-good older brother I never had.

After that, I head for the hills. I hike way up into the woods, scout out a decent hiding place, and settle in for the long haul. I could use the rest, anyway. This whole life of crime thing is exhausting. So I put my head down on a rock and close my eyes to take a quick nap.…

Next thing I know, I’m waking up to the sound of choppers. It’s the FBI! They’re onto me! I can hear the tactical ground units moving into place too. Any minute now, they’re going to have these woods surrounded.

Life in prison, here I come!

Tell Mom I love her. Tell Mrs. Stricker she was right all along. And tell Jeanne Galletta to go ahead and marry Whatshisname. I’m no good for her now. I guess it was just a matter of—

When I looked around, Sergeant Fish was spraying spittle in my face and everyone else was heading up the trail. I majorly zoned out on Planet Rafe this time.

“I’m all out of engraved invitations, Khatchadorian!” he said. “Are you coming, or what?”

“I’m coming!” I said. “I’m definitely coming.” Then I hustled over to catch up with the group, the thought of Rocco fresh in my mind.

So much for quitting. I guess you can add that to the list of stuff I’m not very good at.

Besides, who can afford that life of crime?