Mickey Slips (Tyler Cunningham Shorts) Read Free Page B

element ( at least the one that I cared about ) was out of the equation now, and I could focus, once again, on the ends, and not the means.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Dinosaur Bar-B-Que, Syracuse, 1/21/2013, 2:27 p.m.
     
    “Try all of this!” Kevin crowed triumphantly, as he threw down the last of a seemingly endless parade of plates and bowls of BBQ and sides. I was working my way steadily through all of it, but he always tried to beat me with food whenever I came through town. The previous March, Kevin’s ex-wife ( and her new boyfriend) had grown sick of shared custody, and taken Kevin’s six year old daughter, Tracy, with them ( absent permission or legal authority ) when they moved to Ohio. People we both knew through three degrees of separation had put Kevin and me together, and it had worked out well for everyone involved ( except the ex-wife and boyfriend, who might get out of jail in time to attend Tracy’s graduation … from grad-school ).
    Kevin had a great relationship with his daughter, a wonderful job at the best barbeque joint in New York State, and no money at all to pay me ( to his ongoing chagrin ). It didn’t bother me a bit, as the retrieval of Tracy was easy and quick ( and interesting ), and now I eat for free whenever I’m in Syracuse.
    I finger-squeegeed the last morsel of brisket from the top plate on the stack twenty minutes later, and told Kevin once again that he put out a nice plate of food. “I won’t be hungry again for hours!” I said, giving him a smile designed to show him that I was kidding and grateful and full.
    “I wish that I could do something else to thank you Tyler.” Kevin said, and dug out a picture of Tracy. “Here she is at the Christmas Choir Concert … isn’t she an angel?” he asked.
    “She is, and that’s all the thanks I’ll ever need, but there actually is a favor that you could do me Kevin … but certainly feel free to say no if it’s a hassle.”
    “Whatever it is, it’s done … just say the word Tyler.” He gushed, and for a microsecond, I thought about letting Kevin take a more direct ( and violent ) route towards settling Lily and Shane for me and Mickey ( just a microsecond, I promise ).
    “You mentioned one time that one of the owners of Dinosaur owns a garage around here that he lets people borrow to work on their bikes and trucks from time to time.” I remembered Kevin talking about it the last time I came through town.
    “Yah, Mike’s place … not really a garage so much as an empty warehouse with a roll-up door and piles of crap in the corners. Why … is your car busted?” Kevin asked guilelessly.
    “No, the Element is fine, but I need a private spot to do some work for a couple of hours. Do you think you could set it up for me?”
    “Sure, I can ask. When would you like it for?”
    “Kevin, I need it for this evening if possible, or if not, as soon as he can manage. Also, since Mike doesn’t know me, could you leave me out of it? Don’t mention my name to him or anyone else, OK?”
    “Sure Tyler I can do that, but why? What’s the deal?” Kevin asked, clearly unable to imagine why I would need or want garage space on the sly.
    “Kevin, I’m in town helping out a friend, like I helped you and Tracy out last year. I need to do some work in a quiet and private place for a couple of hours, and if you could set me up with it, I’d consider us more than even.” I even tried to waggle my eyebrows meaningfully during this part, and I could see a low-watt idea flicker on in his head, and then he winked at me.
    “I got it Tyler, I’ll go up and see him now. While I’m gone, try these fried green tomatoes … they’re killer.” He smiled broadly as a waitress brought a huge and heaping plate of battered and fried tomato slices based on some signal that I’d missed.
    He was gone for seven minutes . The smile on his face when he came back was clear enough that even I could tell that he had good news for me. He