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There were a couple cops finishing up on the beach. There’d been no technical crime scene but a high turnout, thanks to the murder that never was. I could hear them laughing by their patrol car, no doubt at me. Let them laugh. I’d have the last one in the end.
‘What are you doing?’ George quietly asked.
I was sitting in the sand, head down and knees tucked under my chin.
‘What does it look like?’ I whispered.
‘It looks like you’re reflecting on your actions, actually. You look remorseful, like you’re sorry for what you’ve done,’ he mused, confused.
‘Good. I was hoping it looked like that. Are the cops gone yet? I’m waiting to dig up the cash.’
‘Ah, now it all becomes clear. You had me going. For a moment there, I almost thought you cared about someone other than yourself.’
‘I never met George. How could I care about someone I’ve never met?’ I asked through gritted teeth. I wondered if I’d ever hear the end of this. Maybe on my deathbed, if I was lucky.
‘Normal people would,’ he sniffed derisively.
‘You’re almost-living proof that normal, I ain’t.’
‘Alright, you see ghosts, big whoop. Does that mean you can’t be human?’
‘There was a forest fire in Australia last week. Couple people died. Another bomb went off in Syria. Dozens died,’ I said.
‘Okay...’
‘Do you care about them?’ I sighed, not caring about my volume. The cops were pulling away now, and it was just me and Jiminy.
‘Well, sure, in a way... that’s different,’ he explained, like I knew he would.
‘Why, pray tell?’
‘Because, I don’t know- no, hang on. That’s not the same and you know it.’
I shrugged. All people to me. I took a final look around and headed into the cave. I could almost hear George’s brain ticking over, furiously thinking of a comeback that made him look good.
‘All that matters is that a man is dead. Does that not bother you?’ he called as I fumbled about for my cell light.
‘No,’ I told him bluntly.
‘You’re a psychopath.’
It was the second time he’d called me that, and he was still wrong.
‘You’re forgetting that I’ve met the dead,’ I groaned, blinding myself with the light. ‘Remember Ronnie? He was a jerk. That’s normal behavior. You think when people die, they suddenly become the angels everyone makes out they are?’
‘Well, no, I guess, but-’
‘Right now, Lisa and her two kids will be mourning the greatest man who ever lived. But she’ll be forgetting the times that they argued and wanted to divorce, or the times she wanted to kill him. The kids will forget that Daddy didn’t want to play with them and he ignored them. Soon enough, he’ll be a bigger saint than Mother Teresa.’
‘Yeah, but-’
‘And if he was here,’ I concluded, ‘right now, as a lucy, he wouldn’t be thinking of them. He’d be thinking about his bit on the side or revenge against his killers. His family wouldn’t even register.’
‘You’re talking out of your ass,’ he scoffed.
I managed to find a nook to put the cell into, blaring horrible white light over the cavern. It lit up all the slugs and spiders too, which I was inherently grateful for. Not.
‘I’m talking based on experience. You’ll get there yourself one day, buddy.’
He muttered something under his breath. Shaking my head, I got on my hands and knees and began to claw madly at the sand. It didn’t take long. Ronnie hadn’t used the six-foot rule, and it occurred to me how stupidly lucky he’d been.
The case was larger than I expected, and kinda weightier, too. There was no lock on it, so I opened it right up. We both gasped in awe at what we saw.
Stacks of newly-minted dollars, smelling so beautifully clean and fresh. Looked like a million bucks, alright.
‘I’ve never seen so much money before,’ I breathed. Growing paranoid, I quickly peeked my head out of the cave. Nope, still alone. George was giving me a funny look.
‘What? It’s not like rich people carry around thousands of dollars. I have thirty cents and a stick of gum in my pocket just like you.’
‘Man, talk about relatable.’
‘What should we do with it?’ I asked, instantly regretting it.
‘You know what you should do,’ he said, his halo radiating light.
‘Give it to charity?’ I groaned. This is exactly why I shouldn’t have asked.
‘No, I doubt that thought would even cross your mind. I meant give it to George’s family.’
Yeah, like that’d go down well.
‘Oh, sure. “Hey, here’s what your husband was practically killed over. Enjoy!” Even I find that abhorrent.’
And that’s saying something.
‘But you heard Castro. They were already struggling financially. Without his wage, they’ll be even worse off. Money’s not the be-all and end-all, but it’d certainly help them.’
He was a good salesman, and I was almost tempted. Except for obvious reasons. No bank in the world would accept a briefcase full of freshly-minted cash without a thorough police investigation. She was married to a cop, she wouldn’t want illegal money. And even if - and that’s a big if - the cops allowed her to keep it, she’d be taxed to high heaven. I doubted she wanted all that in her time of mourning.
‘Yeah, no. I think I’ll keep it.’
His jaw dropped as I closed the lid and vaguely swept my foot over the gaping hole, making an attempt to hide it.
‘Well, yeah, you are basically bankrupt,’ he snorted, shaking his head.
‘A million dollars cash,’ I reminded him. ‘No law-abiding person would take that without questioning it.’
He knew I was right. I could see it in his eyes. He was still grumbling, though. Facts don’t tend to win in these kinda arguments.
‘Maybe don’t give it in cash.’
‘Doubloons?’
Re-bury the briefcase and post an anonymous tip through their letterbox? Of course, that would rely on me knowing where they lived, which I did not. Cops’ houses aren’t usually public domain either. Believe me, I’ve checked. I tried to find out Tommy Perez’ address after... the incident, but no dice. That’s my only real regret.
‘No! You could set up a trust fund for the kids.’
‘Huh, interesting. How does one go about doing that?’ I enquired.
‘I don’t know! But you can find out. Maybe your lawyer could help?’
That was a convincing argument. Not.
‘I’ll think about it.’
‘Or you could...’ he trailed off as he thought harder than he’d ever thought before. I could see he wasn’t about to drop it any time soon. He really wanted me to do the right thing. Interestingly, that did not involve giving the evidence to the police. “The right thing” wasn’t the same thing to all, it seemed.
‘Give them a check?’
‘In my name? That they’ll tell Castro about, since he’s a family friend?’
‘Okay! There must be something,’ he spluttered.
We were getting dangerously close to humanity again, so I stopped to “tie my shoelace.” I placed the case next to me and paused. Hmm. I don’t usually carry a suitcase. That will look mighty suspicious if I bring that back to the hotel room. Luckily, the bundles of notes were banded together and my jeans and hoody were pretty baggy.
George coughed and looked away as I took my belt off and opened the briefcase.
‘What the hell-?’
‘Chill, I’m not going skinny-dipping.’
‘Then, what- oh, I see,’ he understood as he dared to look back.
I shuffled about, majorly uncomfortable. Some of it shifted in ways I’d rather it didn’t. It felt like I’d have to burn about three thousand bucks. Well, I’d probably already done that on this sojourn anyway.
‘How do I look?’ I grimaced.
‘Constipated. Troll-like. So, no difference.’
I thanked him by throwing the empty case through his torso and into the ocean. We walked away a bit and looked back. It looked like your average sea trash. The tide was slowly coming to claim it and then if Castro ever saw it, his presumption would be correct. Everybody wins.
‘You’re really going to keep the money, aren’t you?’ he asked softly, as we stared into the water like a pair of weirdos.
‘Realistically, there’s nothing else I can do with it.’
‘Yeah, you made that abundantly clear,’ he scoffed, so far up on the high ground he was but a speck.
‘Meaning?’ I retorted.
‘You never wanted to give the money away. Admit it.’
‘I did from the start, if you listened. You’re the one with a rosy-eyed view of the world, if you recall. I’m a realist. Besides, the money will be handy for me.’
He was about to climb a little higher so I quickly shot him down.
‘My dad’s furious, remember? I’m not rich, he is. You need to remember that. He’s threatened to cut me off a million times, and one day he will actually do it. How am I supposed to help you guys then?’
‘So, in a weird, roundabout way, it’s to help people?’ he mumbled, not to be beaten.
He was insane. He simply refused to see me as selfish. And I was selfish, I fully own up to that. But I had every right to be. The second I give an inch, every worm will crawl out of the woodwork scrambling for the cash. It’s happened so many times I can’t count. Which is why I’m now “evil” and “self-centered.” Yeah, call me what you want, you still ain’t getting my money.
‘Sure, George. I’m doing it for the good of mankind,’ I smiled at him.
He brightened up, bless his little do-gooder heart. He was probably still cut up about Leah, or whatever George’s wife’s name was, but he’d get over it. I’d given him a reason to. You believe whatever you want, buddy. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Or whatever lucies do.
‘I’m sick of Florida. Come on, George. Let’s go back home,’ I sighed.
‘Home,’ he repeated, smiling softly.
And with that, he’d forgotten all about it.