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In which our hero cannot recall the name of The Villages, Florida’s friendliest hometown.
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“Is he okay?”
“Yeah he’s okay,” Garland growled. “He lays there in bed all day drooling and mumbling gibberish about fried okra, but turn that television off Animal Planet and you’ll see just how okay he is. Ol’ boy loves him some meerkats.”
The sign above Garland’s roommate’s bed said his name was Hershel Thomas, but introductions were not in order—I’m not sure Hershel knew the world was still spinning. By contrast Garland sat neatly dressed on the edge of his bed, and I wondered why he lived in this place and not that town in Florida comprised entirely of old people who golf and rollerblade all day. I tried to think of a delicate way to ask but Garland said, “Y’all pull up those chairs,” and our meeting came to order.
“Now, son,” the old man said, with such an infinitely friendlier tone than the day before I wondered if he was off his medication, “has Parker told you why you’re here?”
“No, she just snuck me out of school and brought me here. She said it was important.”
Garland nodded. “She’s right, it is important. Parker here tells me you’re fluent in French.”
I glanced at Parker, betrayed she’d passed on my half-truth to someone else. “I, uh, yeah. I’m pretty fluent.”
“And you can drive a car?”
“I can,” I said, not knowing where this could possibly be going.
“Well, son, I’ve got a big favor to ask of you. Parker dear, will you shut that door?”
Parker obliged and when she sat back down, Garland continued, “A big favor. And if you can help me out, I’ll give you twenty-five thousand dollars.”
I’ve always wanted to take a big sip of water just before someone says something this preposterous so I could spit it out like they do on sitcoms, but I hadn’t just taken a big sip of water, so instead I laughed out loud. How could I not? “Twenty-five thousand dollars,” I repeated, and laughed again because it somehow sounded even more ridiculous when I said it. I stood up and said, “I’ve got to get back to school. This is—” Garland tossed something toward me and I caught it and looked down to see a thick roll of hundred-dollar bills. I sat back down.
“Son, that’s ten thousand dollars. Consider it a down payment. You’ll get the rest after you help me out.”
After two summers of mowing lawns I’d paid four thousand dollars cash for my Jetta, and that was, by far, the most money I’d ever held at one time. I looked down at the money again, then at Parker, then back at Garland. If this was a practical joke I was about to fall hard. “Okay,” I said, “what do you need me to do?”
Garland smiled, leaned in, and whispered, “Son, I need you to bust me out of here and take me to Paris.”