Flying Too Close to the Sun by George Jehn (novels for beginners .txt) 📕

lead? “All right,” Juni finally sighed. “Let’s meet at that same Brooklyn restaurant after dark, around nine,” adding, “but make absolutely certain you’re not followed.”

“Don’t go inside,” Erik added. “Wait in the lot. If I get there before you I’ll do the same. If I don’t show it’s ‘cause the cops were watching.”

“But, why—” Juni began, but there was a click and the line went dead.

Erik drove to his apartment, picked up a FedEx package delivered earlier that day and threw it into the car. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—open it; not yet. After spotting nothing suspicious, he waited ‘til dark, went to the closet and put the now foul-smelling bags into the trunk of his car. After again driving an overly circuitous route and making certain there was no tail, he finally pulled into the lot across from Pepi’s. The magic hour hadn’t quite arrived, so he just sat there, listening to an Eagles CD, trying to cut through the tension flowing from his body like waves in the ocean. The night was clear with the moon lending a sense of warmth, its radiance in the cool air bringing on fading summer memories. Looking westward, the New York City lights reflected off the high cirrus clouds making them appear like a carpet of lights. After again eyeing the package lying on the seat next to him, he ripped open truth in a FedEx box. Its contents only served to reawaken horrible memories, a world of oppression where legitimacy was never considered.

For the next five or so minutes Erik’s fingers tapped the overnight envelope in time with the music until Juni’s old clunker rattled into the lot and got his attention. It pulled alongside and Juni looked drained, with circles under his eyes so deep they could have been etched with a knife. Wearing a dark tee shirt and black lightweight jacket, with both hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans he walked slower than grandma without her cane. But, no doubt his scoping job was as good as a deer’s before entering a field to feed at dusk.

He finally ambled over to Erik, whose heart was rapping. He was at the cusp. After shaking hands, Erik asked, “How’s the head?” adding, “and the bakery?”

“The head’s comin’ along, aside from an occasional bad headache. The bakery, well, that’s another story,” he replied taking a deep breath and exhaling with a loud whoosh. “How’d you make out?” Juni still kept a wary eye for anything amiss. “Sorry I couldn’t help you financially, but I’m on my ass.”

“I got the money from my girlfriend’s father.”

“You held on to the job?”

“Yeah. But it came right down to the wire.”

“At least one of us made out.”

“Make that both of us. I have something for you.” He sauntered to the rear of the car with a silent Juni in tow and popped the trunk.

“Holy shit! Where—how—did you get it?”

“I found out who it was and got ‘em.”

Juni’s mood was immediately uplifted. He opened one bag, stuck his hand in and rubbed the old bills between his fingers, fleetingly spotting Hamilton, Jackson, Grant, and even Franklin, feeling more like cloth than money. There must a million stories behind each. He finally asked, “And? Who was it? I’ll deal with him or her.”

It was Erik’s turn to hesitate. Should he say any more? “It wasn’t just a him, but rather them. And, they’re probably already taken care of.”

“Whaddya mean?”

Feeling an undercurrent of adrenalin, Erik related the entire story, adding, “And the best part was Woody already resigned from the airline, figuring he was set for life. No way will they take that guy back. He’ll lose everything. Don’t go near him, because we got ours and he got his. The same thing probably applies to his ugly comrade whose first name is Billy.” Erik hesitated. “I got the plate number of his Benz, which is probably for sale as we speak.” He handed Juni a slip of paper with the number on it.

“Did you count it?” Juni asked, seemingly brushing aside Erik’s last remarks. But a momentary, churning rage surged through his face as he put the paper in his pocket.

“It’s probably a little over two million,” Erik answered.

“That’s over a million apiece. No, make that seven-hundred thousand. I’ll get Christina’s share to her son; somehow, some day. Is that okay with you?” Juni sighed, torn between sadness over Christina’s death and renewed hope for his future.

Shaking his head, Erik said. “I don’t want any. The fire burning in my belly was to find out who had it. The money’s all yours. Do whatever you want.”

“But, but, we were partners.”

Erik shook his head. “You said not to tell anyone, but I had a lengthy discussion with my girlfriend. Excuse me, but she’s my fiancée now. I proposed last night and she accepted. I told her everything and she strongly urged I give it all to you. We don’t want any. I only got involved to pay off my loan and that’s behind me. We’re planning a long and happy life together and don’t want this shit hanging over our heads.”

Juni just stood there speechless, his nimble mind navigating the uncharted waters Erik’s actions had awakened. Hope is the dream of every person, but this would enable him to reach fulfillment. He put his arm around Erik and while hugging him, sobbed, “Thanks,” tears involuntarily streaming down his cheeks and onto his jacket. Not even trying to wipe them away, he added, “I will never forget what you’ve done for me and my family. I’ll also figure out a way to get Christina’s share to her kid. It will take time, but I’ll do it, maybe a college scholarship for starters?”

“She would have wanted that. Just be very careful.”

“It’s the least I can do. And please, if there’s ever anything you ever need, I’m always there. Never forget that.”

Erik nodded his head and helped transfer the bags to Juni’s trunk. As Juni drove off, Erik looked up at the moonlit