Thieving Weasels - Billy Taylor Page 0,15

the clock on my cell phone, but it’s messed up right now so I didn’t think to look at it.”

“Then un-mess it. Your mother needs you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Save it,” he said, and opened the door to his car.

“Wait a minute,” I said, getting in his face. “I didn’t ask for this. You were the one who showed up in my dorm room yesterday.”

Uncle Wonderful grabbed a fistful of my hair and smashed my head against the doorjamb. “Listen up, you little turd. Your mother’s in this place because of you, so don’t go telling me that you didn’t ask for it. You want to go back to that rich kid’s playground upstate? Then you give your mother a reason to go on living. Otherwise, I’ll screw up your deal faster than you can say Jack Robinson, and your good name will be so dirty you wouldn’t want to wipe your ass with it. You hear me?”

“Yeah.”

Then he squeezed my mouth open and jammed a cotton swab down my throat. I gagged and pulled away.

“What was that all about?” I coughed.

“DNA,” he said, jamming the swab in a test tube. “It’s better than fingerprints and totally admissible in court. You cross me again, and who knows where this stuff might turn up?”

“Give me a break,” I said.

“I just did. And from now on you show up when you’re supposed to, you leave when you’re supposed to, and you do whatever it takes to make your mother happy. Got it?”

“Happy, huh? Is that why you fed her all those pills, Uncle Wonderful? To keep her happy?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said.

“Don’t lie to me! I saw your name on some of those prescription bottles.”

“Your mother was in pain.”

“Then give her an aspirin, not a truckload of pharmaceuticals.”

“You weren’t here.”

“Well, I’m here now and I’m emptying that medicine cabinet as soon as I get home. And if you feed her so much as a Benadryl—DNA or no DNA—I swear to God I’ll tear your throat out. Got it?”

He glared at me.

“Good,” I said, climbing into the Mustang. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go see a guy about getting my phone fixed.”

9

UNCLE WONDERFUL’S THREAT BURNED IN MY BRAIN AS I marched into the Verizon store. I figured the chances of him doing something funny with my DNA were somewhere between eighty and a million percent, and I weighed the options of going after him before he went after me. A preemptive strike wasn’t my style, but what other choice did I have? It wasn’t like my family had an appeals committee, and now that Grandpa Patsy was dead, Uncle Wonderful was our de facto leader. He wasn’t the oldest, brightest, or best thief in our little clan, but nobody else wanted the job, and that left him in charge. He’d always been a jerk, and nobody loved him the way they loved Grandpa Patsy, but nobody wanted to see him go to prison either. I guess the big question was what would Roy or my mother do to me if I sent him there?

“Can I help you, sir?”

I stepped up to the counter and handed the Verizon rep my phone. “This thing worked fine yesterday when I was upstate, but as soon as I got down here it totally died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir. Let’s see if we can figure out what the problem is.”

I gave him my phone number, and as he looked up my account I said, “It’s been a while since I reviewed my plan, but I’m pretty sure I have the one where you can call from anywhere in the United States.”

“Your plan isn’t the problem, sir. The problem is you owe over eighteen hundred dollars on your account. It’s been suspended for lack of payment.”

“Eighteen hundred dollars?” I said. “That’s impossible.”

“I’m afraid not.” He spun his terminal around for me to see. “You owe six hundred and fifty-seven dollars for October, five thirty-eight for November, and your December bill is already over seven hundred dollars.”

“That’s ridiculous. My bill is never more than forty bucks, and I always pay it on time using the kiosk at the Verizon store in Saratoga Springs.”

“Did you save your receipts?”

“Of course.”

“Good, then let me see those, and maybe we can get to the bottom of this.”

“I mean, I don’t actually have them here with me. They’re in my dorm room upstate.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Then, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Anger flared inside me. “Listen,” I hissed. “I