"Are you sure we shouldn't rent a Disney van or something else?" Charlie asks as he relishingly inhales the gas station air. He's sprawled in the backseat, asking me questions through the passenger window. I hold the hose and fill the tank of the car. He had started to move to meet us outside, but he stopped before his feet hit the pavement. Finally he seems to have learned the gift of prudence. The less they see us, the better for everyone.
"And how do you plan to rent that van?" With what credit card? I ask as he runs a squeegee across the windshield. Anything that gives us a semblance of normalcy. Do you remember what that guy in Hoboken told us? It's the big purchases that always give you away.
"Didn't he also say something about deceived women?" - He replies.
I wince. A week ago we would have had an argument. Today is not worth it.
The fuel hose produces a slight click, indicating that the tank is full. Sunken in the back seat and intoxicated by the fumes of gasoline, Charlie appears to be six years old. In those days, when Dad would take us to the Ocean Avenue gas station, he would always say, "Ten bucks, please." Not "Fill It Up". He only said "Fill it up" when he closed an important deal. That happened twice. Everything else was ten bucks. But—Daddy was Daddy—he still used the full service. Just to show that we had some class.
-We are ready? -ask
Gillian, turning the corner of the gas station building and coming back from the bathroom. I nod as she put the tank cap on. Gillian gets into the driver's seat and adjusts the rearview mirror. She glances at Charlie through the mirror, but when he looks back at her, she looks away from her and hits the accelerator, throwing us into the seatbacks. Like the dog and the cat.
According to the guy at the gas station, it's three hours to Orlando. If we hurry we'll get there before dark.
Twenty kilometers later we find ourselves in the middle of a traffic jam. The Florida highway may be the fastest way to Orlando, but as we wait in the endless queue at the Cypress Creek tollbooth, absolutely nothing moves fast.
"This is ridiculous," I complain as we advance a few inches. They have two hundred cars and only four toll booths open.
"Welcome to Florida math," Gillian says. Maneuvering to the left, she steers the car into the only lane that appears to be moving. Directly ahead of us, as other vehicles roll by, a black Acura stands
motionless for about thirty seconds too long. Come on! Gillian yells as she hits the horn. Pick a lane and get your ass off!
"Can I ask a stupid question?" Charlie interrupts from the back seat. Remember that guy from Disney, the one who told us on the phone that the backups were in the DACS? Well, what if the guy panicked and starts looking for backups?
"He won't do that," she replied, turning to look at him.
-How do you know?
"I could detect it in his voice," I say.
—. He's not the kind of person to do research. And even if it is, he has no idea what he should be looking for.
-Are you sure about that? Charlie insists.
As I continue to stare at Charlie I feel a sudden, almost microscopic twitch in my eyebrow. He notices it instantly.
"Do you realize what I'm saying?" -ask-. The Greene & Greene logo was on the screen. All it would take is one call to the bank... and another to Gallo and DeSanctis...
As we move into the shadow from the tollbooths, the sun vanishes from the heights. And he does it fast. Only then do I turn in my seat and notice the speed at which we are moving. The engine roars. We're about to go through the tollbooth at nearly thirty miles an hour.
"Gillian..."
"Relax, it's a SunPass lane," he says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the barcode sticker on the left rear window.
Charlie looks through the windshield; I follow the direction of his gaze. The sign above the toll booth says "Exclusively SunPass." Shit.
"Don't pass...!" Charlie yells. But it is already too late. We go through the toll and a scanner
digital coolly focuses the car. Charlie and I simultaneously squat in our seats.
-What are you doing? Gillian asks. It's not a camcorder...
Through the rear window the toll booth fades into the distance. Charlie sits up in his seat of him.
-Damn! I yell at the same time.
I hit the dashboard with my fist. -That?
"Do you have any idea how stupid that was?"
-What happen? It's just a SunPass...
"...which uses the same technology as a supermarket scanner!" I exclaim. Don't you know how easy it is for those guys to track down this vehicle? They know who you are in the blink of an eye!
Now Gillian is the one sinking into her seat.
"I didn't think it was...
Her voice shakes and she makes an effort to get my attention. But it's useless. I adjust the visor mirror to look at Charlie.
«What did I tell you?», He asks me with his eyes.
"Oliver, I'm really sorry," Gillian says, touching my arm. From the look on Charlie's face, he expects me to relent. But I push Gillian's hand away.
"At last. Good for you, brother.
"I'm really sorry," Gillian repeats. She touches me again, this time holding my hand tight.
"Stay firm, Ollie. It's time to shout victory », she conveys to me with her gaze.
"Let's not talk about it anymore, okay?" -I tell him.
"Please, Oliver, I was just trying to help. It was a mistake.
Between the bucket seats, Charlie shakes his head. He doesn't believe in mistakes, at least not when it's Gillian who makes them. But even Charlie has to admit that the damage has been almost non-existent. We've only been through one tollbooth, which is why, as Gillian's fingers thread through mine, I don't hold his hand but.
I don't take her away from her either.
Charlie puts his knee down hard against the back of my seat.
I replace the visor with the mirror in place. He doesn't get it. "Please, next time you must."
Be more careful," I tell him.
"I promise," Gillian says.
You have my word.
Charlie turns and looks through the rear window. The toll has disappeared into the distance. He continues to protect our backs.