“Oh Kurt, you’re still here,” he says.

“Yeah I’m still here,” I say. “I guess I’m just that good.”

“Or just that rich and white.”

He walks away sulking hands buried in his pockets back to his desk. Poor sergeant really wanted to see me burn. It’s around twelve thirty now and I’ll be honest I did not expect so many people here for the hearing. The station is practically empty most weekends. But today all my fellow officers scrunched their faces up against the door so they could hear me turn in my badge. Unfortunately for these lovers of spectacle my ass gets to stay right where it is because the New York State Police Department has officially let me out on probation.

Not like they didn’t try to get me out though. City councilmen, the chief, they even got some of my contacts from SoHo to come down and testify to the “validity” of my drug busts. I told them of course that I wasn’t lying and for the most part I wasn’t. I’m not too ashamed to admit in private conversation that I take money from friends. There dealers sure but as long as there not selling to kids they’ll stay junkies selling their shit to other junkies. The way I see it, it’s free market capitalism in all but name. Only real difference is that I have to shoot someone now and then.

See it’s this kind of brazen late twenty something wit that got me my current position in law enforcement. Point is it’s still Saturday afternoon and I still have my weekends off, even on probation. I grab my coat and take off.

Getting in my car I turn it on and crank up the radio. Unfortunately my favorite station is still on its romance hour where they play nothing but hack love songs. I should be grateful this thing even comes on. Then again this old soul Ford Mustang is like Ma, to stubborn to die. I turn it off and take a swig off whatever was in my cup holder. I should probably look at what I’m drinking but a buzz is a buzz, I don’t care what gives it to me. I’m pretty sure it’s beer though and hey the bottle is pretty big so that’s a plus. Not a plus is the fact that my phone starts buzzing before I even leave the parking lot. I answer it.

“Already told you guys that I’m off today,” I say.

“Hi, Blue Boy,” she answers.

Sadly this wasn’t the chief though I wish it were. It’s too early to deal with her now.

“Hi Jay,” I say.

“Call me Blue Jay,” she says. “Anyway I need you to come to the usual place.”

“Why?”

“Cause I have something to tell you. Don’t be a meanie Kurt.”

“Huh, fine.”

“Yay!”

She hangs up and I take off down the road. Unbelievable, I don’t even try to understand that girl. She’s fourteen and she still talks like this? Who does that? The explanation I got from Ma was that she was a little bit special. I’ve always been stuck with her. Jayden was a weird little kid in Sunday school.

Ma ran the daycare back then. She mostly watched the kids of the church going parents while they cleanse their souls in the chapel upstairs. The daycare itself was little more than a few renovated closets in the basement. Their walls town down so they could connect and form the master closet. I was twenty-two around the time Ma wanted to make us Protestants so Ma made me donate all my old toddler stuff to the new playroom. Hell I wasn’t using it so I said sure, even if by the end the playroom looked like dusty fisher price warehouse. Couldn’t say it didn’t fit, our church was squashed between two of the most paint chipped tenement buildings I’ve ever seen. Beauty was not one of prime concerns. Around there people were happy to have a church at all even if they never said it. I myself had gotten my first apartment down the street and came by to help out. Even I could see its benefit.

Jayden came to us the next year when I turned twenty-two. Even though she was clearly different her situation wasn’t. A little kid needed to be looked after while their parents seek salvation. The only difference was that Jayden only had one.

“Her mom has hit hard times,” Ma said. “She needs a baby sitter.”

So I was the lucky guy. Every Sunday while Ma tried to save Jayden’s mother from the bottle I tried to save my ankle from Jayden’s mouth. Seriously this kid was biter. Would gnaw my leg every chance she got. The other kids to apparently as she didn’t like playing with them. She would always freak out around loud noises so I had to keep her away. Whenever we were alone she started talking, and never shut up. She wanted me to call her Jay and that I was going to be her best friend from now on, no debate. She was kinda fun to have around. She would laugh at things that weren’t funny, jump on my back and pout whenever I through her off, and most of jump around like an amateur acrobat on meth. That was her on a normal day.

I admit I never wanted to be there. I wanted to be out and doing things important. The clichéd idea is that the rough city boy especially one who has nothing better than a high school education, does the coolest things imaginable. I can assure that that’s bullshit. I yearned for those adventures though, see in New York City you’d get those things but not in Albany.

One day while Ma was giving me a hug I got a little impulse to slip off Ma’s pearls right off her neck while she hugged me after Church got out. It worked, and it was fun as hell. So everyday from then on when Ma dropped Jay off I left to go steal shit. I thought that it would be fun, and that’s it. I still had to watch Jayden though, so I took her with me.

For a good two years I took Jayden out. I told her what we were going to do and how we were going to have fun. Everyday I was going to point out different people as targets, she was going to distract them by never shutting up, and we were going to pick their pockets. Now most kids would be against stealing, as most parents would teach them stealing is bad. Jay wasn’t, if anything I recall her using such exaggerated phrases as, “can we steal cars” and “she looks fat and rich, lets rob her.”

I liked her enthusiasm, so we started our work. She would do the distracting and I would pick their pockets. She tried her hand at stealing but she could never shut up long enough to get it right. Either way she always congratulate me later on when we were in the clear, claiming that she saw everything I did. Looking back now it was more than fun, it was amazing stealing with that little girl.

It ended eventually as all things do. Ma finally convinced me to go to college, turns out criminal justice was a forte of mine. I lost contact with Jay for a while, Ma too. By the time I got back to Albany four years later I was detective. Ma had gone to a home and Jay was on the streets. Funny thing is both got in contact. Jay wanted to know what it was like being a “copper.” Ma wanted me to look after Jay; she had no one left she said. I gave her a quick little promise and haven’t talked to her since. I didn’t realize at the time the promise meant putting up with Jay calling me on cases and dates to tell me about her next criminal scheme.

Three years later and Jay is still calling me. Today was simply her latest call. Three years I’ve put up with this, you’d think she’d get that I’m not into shit like this anymore. I have to see she wants I know, but god I don’t want to.

Nice thing is I’m looking out at the fresh and open streets before me. It wasn’t rush hour, it was still the slacker’s hour when people in offices were staring to yawn and check their watches. These black lined pages of the road were mine now so I stepped on the gas and raced through what I’m pretty sure was a yellow light freshly turned red. It was heaven, until I went through that one light and realized I had arrived at the usual place, a broken down gas station that even the most desperate bum would turn away from. I need to start driving around more because I’m tired of parking next to ugly things.

Walking though a cracked out window I can already hear her giggling. She’s already here. Not five minutes after she called me she’s already here. I am not at all surprised.

“Hey Jay,” I call out. “I’m here so what do you want.”

“Many things great master,” she says in a mock Darth Vader voice.

“C’mon Jay stop fooling around.”

She tackles me. Out of nowhere this little twig of a fourteen year old tackles me to the ground. Even in this low light I can see her beaming little face. Jay is definitely one of those little black girls who love to smile. It would be charming if she didn’t also parade around in nothing but navy cargo shorts and a white turtleneck torn deliberately to expose her sports bra. She looks weird especially since it’s the middle of February, for Christ sake. She should be freezing. That’s who she is though. This wise beyond her years, eccentric, and homeless con artist.

“Did I scare you Kurt?” she asks.

“Get off,” I say.

“Oh you’re no fun.”

“So you’ve told me, what do you want Jay?”

She flips over me into a strange sort of squatting position, waggling her index fingers like she’s trying to mesmerize me.

“Hey, hey it’s something right up your alley,” she says. “Okay so I have drugs, Blue Jay won’t tell you where she got them but it’s pure and its weird and there’s this guy in Cincinnati, he wants to buy them so I want you to come along for protection and stuff.”

Ignoring the fact that she referred herself in the third person, she can’t be serious. This is strange even for her. I don’t say a word, no I make for the door as fast as possible.

“Wait,” she whines. “I’m being serious, you know how I am at coning folks. This is like the real test you know, I want you with me for this.”

I sigh.

“Jay, of all the things we did Drug deals was not one of them,” I say. “This isn’t like picking someone's pocket and asking me to tell you how well you did. This is serious and I’m not driving you to Cincinnati on my weekend off. Now leave me alone.”

“Oh that’s too bad,” she smirks. “Cause there’s a lot of money in this one and I’d be willing to split it with you.”

**********************************************************************************************

“Knock it off Jay,” I say while pulling her airhead back into the car.

“What?” she asks. “I wonder what dogs see in hanging their heads out cars.”

“Yeah well you’re not a dog. Now keep quiet, we’re almost to the motel. And watch that case will you, your supposed to keep the stuff covered up.”

We’ve been on the road for close to seven hours now counting bathroom breaks and good God do I hate this kid. She never shuts up always begging me to tell her shit that I don’t know. This is stuff a five year old does. And we’re in smog draped Pittsburgh and passing by such lovely scenery like window smashed buildings is losing its charm.

“Can we stop?” she asks. “I’m hungry.”

“We ate two hours ago,” I say. “Besides we got another mile before we get to the motel.”

“I know, but I’m hungry again.”

She’s lucky we need gas. We pull of the highway and pull into one of those uniform truck stops complete with a little shopping center and food pavilion. We get out and I tell her not to run off. Of course she does, sprinting towards the food court, her untied shoe lasses trailing behind her. I slip the attendant some money and tell him to start fueling before running after her.

Fortunately she’s not hard to find inside. She’s pickpocketing of course but wow when did she get this good? Leaning against a wall I watched her work. Little Jay’s not even looking, walking to the front counter of the McDonalds while snaking her gangly little arms into everyone’s pocket along the way. People used to notice her when she started out a few years ago but now she’s legitimately showing subtlety. Little twitches and finger flicks somehow collected all the cash before bumping into them and using her apology as cover to slip the wallet back into the man’s back pocket or the woman’s open purse. And after she was done, she walked right over to the counter and ordered a full course meal with the money she stole. I’d clap if it wouldn’t blow her cover.

Pulling her to a corner booth we sit down so I can properly congratulate her.

“Well aren’t you talented,” I say.

She starts eating, but continues talking of course spitting food everywhere.

“Was that a compliment?” she asks.

“Not on your life,” I say. “But well done all the same.”

“You are a meanie,” she pouts. “How come you never smile? This would feel like a compliment if you’d smile.”

“Well good thing then that this isn’t a compliment. This is a business trip remember. Now take that to go, we’re leaving.”

She salutes.

“Yes sir Mr. Blue Boy sir,” she says.

Running ahead of me outside Jay literally jumps back into the car, burger still in hand. I could tell the attendant wanted to throttle her but she gives him the puppy dog stare and boom, instant aw affect. Little girl had it down; she probably robbed him at the same time to. Choking back a laugh I slip the guy his tip, close the gas cap, and drive off.

We hop back on the highway and wait it out for one more exit for the motel.

“Hey why do you call me Blue Boy?” I ask.

“Cause you’re a cop,” she answers.

“That’s it?”

“Yup, that’s it.”

Okay I guess that’s it, we pull into the motel parking lot. That’s it.

“That doesn’t really answer anything,” I mumble. “Whatever, get out and get our things. I’ll get us checked in.”

“Right,” she says. “I’ll get the package too.”

How did I forget about the drugs? Shit I almost left them in the car.

“What's in there anyway?” I ask.

“Crack,” she says. “Just crack.”

“Where did you get that quality stuff anyway?”

“Call me Blue Jay and I’ll tell you.”

“Alright, what’s with you and the blue jay stuff? You’ve been saying that for years.”

Jay makes some weird flapping motion while making bird sounds. “Cause blue jays are pretty and they have the same name as me.”

I sigh. “No more nicknames, ever.”

She laughs, what else would she do and starts unloading our luggage. I make my way to the motel ready to check us in. The lobby was nice enough, having a cozy little sitting area bathed in smooth pop music from the speakers above, all the usual stuff. The woman at the front was pretty enough. One of these bright eyed white women with just enough cleavage exposed to give this Motel 6 that extra dose of classiness. What isn’t classy is the simple fact that she wants me to pay double for my room.

“Congratulations sir,” she says. “You got upgraded to a suite.”

“Since when do Motel 6’s have suites?” I ask.

“Sir there are a lot of customers waiting.”

“Customers? It’s almost eight thirty, there’s no one here.”

A little tug on my sleeve brings me back to reality. It’s Jay.

“Please Miss,” she says. “My Dad and I drove a long way to come here and he doesn’t know what he’s saying. We’ll be happy to take the suite. Go on Dad give her your credit card.”

I look down and there’s a credit card in my hand, and it’s not mine.

“Okay,” I say. “Here ya go.”

With a short little ring we’re rung up, we get the keys to our suites, and we head towards the elevators.

“A stolen credit card?” I ask. “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I could save you money,” Jay smiles.

The elevator let out. I said nothing and as made the last couple steps to our room. As soon as we got in we both tossed on our pajama pants and jumped into the one bed, suite my ass. I put my gun on the nightstand and Jay made sure to hide the drug case under the bed. I turn the lights off and try my best to get some sleep despite the constant assault of outside traffic noise.

“I’m glad you’re with me Kurt,” Jay says.

“That came from nowhere,” I say.

“I don’t know. This is the first time we’ve done something together since we were kids. That and I forgot how good a warm bed feels.”

“Huh, you’re right. Last time we slept in the same room was when I took you to that church lock in sleepover thing. You bit my leg when I got up to use the bathroom. You still going through that phase.”

“You remember that? Wow Blue Boy that was years ago.”

“Yeah and its been years since you started your life of crime.”

“Hey now, I started around the same time you did. Besides that’s how you found me again,” Jay laughs.

“Yeah, I took you down to the station for trying to steal that guy’s watch at Dunkin’ Donuts.”

“And so our grand tradition of you stopping me started.”

“Now Jay I wouldn’t be a very good policeman if I didn’t stop a thief.”

“Call me Blue Jay and you’re not a good one now.”There was along pause before she spoke again.“Do you have any friends Kurt, besides me?”

“Who said we’re friends?” I ask.

“You do every time you put up with me.”

“If you’re asking if I have any cop drinking buddies then the answer is no. To be honest I don’t even like the other guys on the force. Well, I don’t maybe they don’t like me.”

A thumping at our door cut off our conversation in the dark. Getting up I opened up only to have a drunken spaz falling into my arms, a bruise on his face and dried blood on his nose.

“Hey man I need a drink,” he says.

I throw him off. He stumbles against the back railing before hitting his head on it. The clang should’ve woken everyone in a half a mile radius along with denting the guy’s skull. He sits there for a second mouth a gape before screaming like a mad man and charging. Knocking him down that was easy, all it took was a quick right hook to the jaw and the soft crunch told me everything I needed to know. He got up though, and his days he saw Jay. Pushing past me he threw Jay out of the bed and strangled her. This guy was choking her out yelling about how she stole what was his and how he was going to cut her up. From behind me two more chubby guys came up. I didn’t take any chances after that first knock on my ass. Before they got out something from their pocket I knocked em down, probably cracked every bone in their jaw. Not wasting time I ran into the room, grabbed my gun of the nightstand, and capped the bastard choking Jay in the knee. He stumbled, screaming his fat head off as his pants spread red. Jay shut him up with a kick to the temple. Nice kick.

Grabbing our stuff we took off. There should be another motel further down somewhere.

It was awkward silence for a bit. The only sounds were a few tired yawns from Jay and the sound of me rubbing spit from my bruised knuckles.

“That was random,” Jay blurted out. “Nothing on this trip has gone right has it?”

“Not a damn thing,” I say. "Now shut up, you are officially treading thin ice.”

Jay doesn’t say a damn word. No, she just starts poking me my cheek.

“Smile,” she says. “Smile, c’mon Mr. grumpy grump smile.”

This goes on for a good two minutes before I finally stop her, swatting her hand away like she’s the worlds most annoying gnat.

“What’s wrong with you?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I don’t know, the doctors never told me.”

I don’t know why but as soon as she said that and looked at me with those big sky blue eyes I could not stop laughing. Over and over again I tried to keep the car from severing into late nigh traffic as I clutched my aching sides. I’m crying now. I don’t cry, ever. I pull off to the side cause I can’t drive like this.

“Oh my God,” I say. “I haven’t laughed like that since forever.”

“Since you were a kid you mean. I knew you liked to smile Blue Boy,” Jay says. “So are we friends now.”

“What?” I ask. “Sure Jay, friends to the end.”

“Yay! Maybe we can go on another crappy road trip later.”

I think for a second as the last of the giggles leave me and I get ready to get back on the highway.

“Why not,” I say.

I think a little more.

“Hey Jay,” I say. “You got anyone looking out for you?”

I look over she’s already asleep in the passenger seat; the crack case nestled under her legs. I really am baby-sitting her again aren’t I? Only difference is I’m getting paid with drug money and not allowance. I don’t know though, maybe I should do this one for free. Maybe I should do a lot of things for this kid for free. Maybe she should stick around for a while.

**********************************************************************************************

“You have it?” he asks. I swear these numerous investment banker junkies get twitchier and twitchier every time I deal with them. I told Jay I would handle this so as long as Jay doesn’t deal with this I’m cool. If anything I think she wanted me to handle it.

“Yup,” I say. “Its underneath the bench.”

“Thank you, thank you. You don’t know what this means to me Mr. Piper.”

That must be her alias for me, not bad.

“Tell you employer that’ll definitely be using her again,” he says.

“Wait a sec,” I say. “I drove all the way to Cincinnati, met you in an open area like Eden Park at this ungodly hour of seven ten, and that’s all fine but… how much do you know about this girl?”

“Not much,” he says. “Why? Am I supposed to?”

“No,” I say. “But your not dealing with her again.”

What followed was a blur. I remember pulling my gun on the guy and pointing it flush to his head and whispering. I remember telling him to forget my employer and me forever. And of course I remember him running away from the gorgeous river overlook, back to his big serious invest bank with his briefcase full of crack.

In the end all I remember is going back to Jay and telling her what went down. I opened our new case and all the money we had inside of it. I told her what I did to save her and how I wanted to give all the money to her. I remember her closing the case and handing it back to me, and smiling that goofy smile.

“Keep it Kurt and buy a sense of humor,” she says. “You’re better when you laugh. Besides you’ll need it after your fellow blue boys find out about this won’t you?”

“Will… huh damn it will I see you around?” I sound like an idiot.

She hangs her head low, never breaking that smile.

“Same old blue boy,” she says. “I never wanted a baby sitter again. Just wanted to have an adventure. First of many I hope. Well whatever, see ya.”

And like that she runs off. Nothing else, no final words, nothing. She runs off, letting her arms go limp and flap wildly in the breeze. I’m ready to run after her, and I don’t. I stand there petrified. I have all the money, my car keys, and a clean alibi. Well I’ll be damned she set this whole thing up for me. I brush the cash case with my thumb, stupid kid should’ve taken some of this. Eh it’s mine now and I wanna go home. Cars’ parked not to far from here so I’ll be out of here soon, still feel like I gotta say something though. She rubbed off on me I guess.

I look back one last time and funny enough I still see her running. Smiling that goofy little smile same as ever… fuck it.

“See ya Blue Jay,” I say to myself.

© 2013 Jared "I.J" Steinberg. All Rights Reserved.

#fiction