Dick

I did not respond.  I was not in the mood to argue, even though he made some good points, I was not in the mood to agree either.

“You’re a fucking dick.”

The addition of fucking took it to another level, but I still did not feel the need to discuss if I deserved the title.  Instead, I pointed at the road.

Donny turned his eyeballs back to the stretch of pavement he was rolling on at about eighty miles per hour. 

His eyes stayed forward as he said, “Dude, you are such a fucking dick.”

I almost answered him, not so much to deny I was a dick, but to point out that my dick like qualities had a purpose.  I looked in the backseat and got a good glimpse of the grocery sack full of cash my being such a dick had gotten us.

 Donny glanced back too, only instead of being happy about his newfound wealth, he shook his head while saying, “Dude, you are such a dick.”

Seeing the money must have softened him, I was no longer a fucking dick.

He took his eyes of the road and stared at me, since I did not want to die in a mess of broken glass and twisted metal before I spent any of the money, I looked at him so he could get his point across.

“Dude, you are such a dick.”

He kept his eyes on me until I gave him something, all I could manage was shrug, then looked back to the road.  When he repeated his ‘Dude, You are such a dick’ mantra I assumed he was talking to me and not the road.  Neither the pavement, nor I, bothered to respond.

He gripped the wheel harder and slowly shook his head as he stomped on the gas, if Donny had pilfered a faster car I might start to worry, but the little four banger serving as our getaway car had already maxed out.  Speed did not matter, if I left someone capable of chasing, I had messed up.

I saw he was gearing up to say something when the muscles in his thick neck started to contract.  Since I did not want to hear the obvious ‘why didn’t you tell me who we were robbing,’ I was pleased to be called a dick again.  It spared the trouble of pointing out had he known, he never would have agreed to drive the car. 

I give Donny credit for being smart enough to know that, and not make me explain it.  Given his bad mood, pointing out he should have asked who we were robbing before agreeing might turn things ugly. 

“Dude, you are such a dick,” he said again, this time through clenched teeth, I was getting sick of it, but I let it go, since once upon a time, when Donny said more than six or seven words, he told me about McGreezy’s  stash house.  It was not an unreasonable assumption once McGreezy realized he was about a hundred grand light Donny might top the list of suspects.  Given the way McGreezy would go about asking, Donny had every right to be pissed.

I motioned to the next intersection, my car was parked behind a Gas station whose posted prices were too low to be open on this side of the turn of the century.   He knew we planned to dump this stolen piece of shit behind the dilapidated service station.  He let me know I did not need to say anything, or gesture since I had not opened my mouth, by calling me a dick again.

He managed to park the car without calling me a dick. 

“Wait,” I told him as he unlatched his door.

He looked over expecting an apology; instead, I gave him a view of the barrel of my gun.

I thought he might bargain; tell me how no matter how hard McGreezy asked he would not give me up.  To his credit, all he said was, “Dude, you are such a dick.”

“Yeah,” I told him, but I doubt he heard me, that old forty-five is kind of loud.