Junkyard Blues

Chapter Fifty-five

233 C Chapter Fifty-five ude ran a hand over his jacket pocket again where the money was located, he still felt naked even as he sat in the sofa inside the reception area of the building. He stole a glance at the young woman busily punching away on her computer keyboard and sent his hand into the pocket to feel the money again. It is still there, he told himself and almost smiled. He felt all childish and nervous as if everybody could see he had a bundle of banknotes in his pocket, as if anybody who could see it was going to jump on him and take the money away. “Nice place,” Niba said. “Yes,” Jude nodded but if he was asked to repeat what Niba had just said sitting beside him, he would not have. Now, he felt like taking out the money from his pocket and counting it. There was that constant voice in his head, a tiny voice that was telling him that maybe all the money was not there, that maybe a few banknotes were missing. But he had counted the money in the credit union, counted the money and made sure every banknote was accounted for. Count it again, you never know. Stop it! What’s wrong in counting the money again just to make sure everything’s okay? Shut up! He was going to go crazy just sitting here and thinking about the money in his pocket. He needed to part with the money, needed to take the load off his shoulders. But the young woman could not understand something that simple, “Please, you’ll have to wait for just a few minutes, James is with someone in his office,” she had smiled her polite smile and then asked, “Mind if I give you coffee?” “Don’t bother…” “I’ll like a cup,” Niba had said quickly and now he was sitting beside him sipping the coffee as if it was a drug that could cure mortality and looking around the room and particularly at the young woman pounding away on her computer keyboard. Niba did not know what he was going through right J 234 now sitting with the money inside his pocket and feeling that itch to take it out and start counting it again. But Niba could not know that, he told himself, he was not the one carrying the money in his pocket. Paranoia, padre, that’s your problem. It was the very paranoia that had taken hold of him that afternoon as they had sat inside the taxi, Niba chatting away about things he had not been able to hear and so could not even remember. He had felt transparent inside the taxi, as if every passenger getting into the taxi could see exactly what was in his pocket. At one point he had found himself making up visions, images that felt so real to him as he sat there, the visions of some passenger whom he could not see clearly suddenly gripping him and placing a knife on his neck and whispering into his ear, “Give me everything you have.” “I don’t have anything.” “Do I look stupid to you?” a strong hand gripping his throat and the blade of that knife cutting a little into the skin of his neck and bringing out a bit of blood, “Hand me the money, pal, I know you have it in your pocket.” “Please…” “I’m not joking with you, pal,” the knife now digging deeper and deeper, “You can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Jude found himself sweating again just as he had been sweating in the taxi. Jude looked at the clock on the wall again. It was too slow and the person with James in the office was taking all the time in the world. He leaned back in the sofa and tried to relax himself, but another thought leapt into his head again, this time it was just a question; how are you sure they can be trusted? Mabel had asked him the same question almost out of nowhere last night as he told her about his credit union adventure. “You’re going to take a loan?” she had wondered, a worried look suddenly taking over her face. “It’s the only way I can get the money.” “But…” “If I don’t get the money now I’ll miss my only chance in life,” he had told her...