“That’s a stupid song,” Freddie sneered. “How can a tumbleweed go from New Mexico to Oregon.” He snapped off the radio, crossed his arms, and then uncrossed them to wipe the fogged window with his handkerchief. “Country music’s getting so ridiculous.”
“Garth Brooks is good,” argued Huey.
“Good for what? Did you see how he wears his hat over his face? Can’t even see his teeth when he sings.”
They were parked in front of Uncle’s apartment, the engine on and warm air circulating. They had been waiting forty minutes, eating peanuts and drinking Dr Pepper.
“Yeah, we’ll take care of the kids,” Freddie mused.
“We gonna hurt ’em?” Huey asked. “I don’t feel like cryin’ again, Freddie. I’m in a pretty good mood.”
“Nah, we won’t hurt ’em, or if we do, we make it painless, like when you stomp a frog.”
“I can’t do that either, Freddie.”
“Don’t be a scaredy cat. They got the photos, and we got to get ’em. Now shut up!” Freddie was in a bad mood. He had sat there nearly an hour, loading up on junk food, and what he wanted more than anything was a hot bath with mountains of bubbles.
They waited in silence, the glow of the dashboard lights on their faces, which were lit up with shadows under their eyes.
When Julio’s Ford rattled up the street and squeaked into the driveway, Freddie turned off their engine. They waited for three minutes. Then Freddie said, “Let’s get it over with. I don’t want to miss the Olympics.”
They got out of their stolen Oldsmobile, the icy night hitting them like a brick. They shuddered, complained of the cold, and crossed the street, where they leaned their faces between a hedge. Freddie saw the uncle huddle around the two boys, pat them on the back, and usher them inside the house. The uncle returned to the Ford, where a woman sat.
“He’s dropping off the kids,” Freddie chuckled. “What could be more perfect?”
“If the kids dropped dead right on the spot,” Huey said, surprised by his outburst.
“That’s the way to think,” Freddie said, patting his shoulder roughly. “Good for you.”
The Ford turned around, its headlights sweeping across the lawn, and rattled out of the driveway. Once the car was out of sight, Freddie and Huey entered the yard, chuckling.