Kane and I make sure we never cross territories or visit ones that the other has been too, for obvious reasons. Mostly, I stick to the northern midwest and the south-east, and Kane takes the west coast, the south-west, and some of the Gulf coast. He’s in Arizona now, I think.
“The wild west is pretty fucking great, man,” he chuckles. “Hey, I found a new one for you.”
“Oh?” I can hear him grinning, and I take another swig of whiskey.
“Yeah, check this out. It’s an arthritis medication.”
Yes, we really are this shameless and awful. Hey, it pays the bills.
“Oh really?”
“Oh, dude,” he grins. “Mix up some menthol oil and some low-dose lidocaine with a clear gel, like hand sanitizer.”
“And?”
“It gives a tingling, slightly numbing sensation, lasts a while, and smells nice.” He chuckles. “Shit, man, people swear by this thing, too.”
I laugh and shake my head and take another drink. “I’m assuming this has no basis in medical fact.”
“None whatsoever,” Kane grins into the phone. “And I charge twenty-five bucks for a six-ounce bottle of the shit.”
I whistle. “Jesus.”
“A-fucking-men, brother. Business is booming.” I can hear the “crssshht” sound of a beer can opening. “So how’s… where are you, Florida?”
“Georgia.”
He whistles. “Fuck, man. That’s gold country right there.”
I nod, taking a drink before I frown. “Hey, Kane?”
“Yeah?”
“You ever think this job is… you know?”
“Don’t get soft of me, Gabe,” he says with a small laugh.
“Naw, not like… listen—”
“No, you listen,” he sighs. “You want a conscience? Go sell used cars, or become a politician.”
I frown. “I’m not sure that’s a great example.”
“No, it’s a fantastic example, because those sneaky lying fucks have more scruples than we do, and we both know it.” He sighs and takes a drink of beer. “Gabe, you want to be honest? Be honest with yourself. Don’t ever buy your own bullshit, bro. We are what we are, just like Jasper taught us.”
“How to be con men.”
“How to be businessmen, Gabe. How to live on the road.”
“How to dull our souls.”
He sighs. “Gabe, Jasper’s in a pauper’s grave because he never knew when to pump the brakes, and he never knew how to save, or how to keep it going. That’s where we’re better. C’mon, man, where are the second thoughts coming from? You’re in fucking Georgia. Jesus Christ, Gabe, that’s like panning for gold at Fort fucking Knox.” He chuckles. “You prick, I can’t believe I let you have the south-east, and here you are bitching about it.”
I grin. “Naw, it’s nothing. Just… I dunno. Thinking, I guess.”
I take another sip and look out over the field again, my thoughts drifting to the obvious: Delilah.
“You getting laid these days?”