Trouble is a Friend of Mine

‘Party after,’ Digby said. ‘To celebrate.’


‘You don’t mind if I …’ Kitten made a pat-down motion. While she searched Henry, she said, ‘Okay, big boy … you call me in a few years.’ She found a bottle of pills on Digby. ‘What are these?’

‘Adderall, Lexapro, Paxil, Effexor … there’s Valium in there somewhere too,’ Digby said.

‘Look, I’ll sound like I’m full of crap considering I do what I do and we’re about to do what we’re about to do, but … be careful with this stuff. These are the real deal. Personally, I don’t sell this to kids, but you scamps always find a way,’ she said. ‘Wait a minute … are you the kids they caught breaking in to that pervert’s office?’

‘Uh … yeah,’ Digby said.

Kitten laughed and shook the pill bottle. ‘Is this from his stash?’

‘Um, no, I got those … somewhere else,’ he said.

Scary thing was, he probably got them from a pharmacy with legit prescriptions.

‘Hey, Alistair, these are the kids who got Schell busted. You should thank them for your new ride,’ she said. ‘When you put Schell out of business, some of his customers decided to switch to all-natural. Alistair bought himself a new Vespa with his bonus.’

Alistair’s high-pitched giggle ran up and down like a little girl’s. ‘It’s red.’

I imagined he looked like a circus bear riding a unicycle.

‘Just curious … was this Schell’s?’ Digby showed her the sticker of the banana on the skateboard he’d pasted to a page of his notebook.

‘Bananaman? No … Bananaman’s … bigger,’ Kitten said.

‘Like how much bigger?’ Digby said.

‘Schell was a pill mill. Fake scrips, selling samples. Bananaman’s higher up in the food chain. He’s a producer. Millions of bucks of synthetics made right here, in sunny River Heights,’ she said.

‘Synthetics? Meth?’ Digby said.

‘Plus a bunch of other stuff. But the thing about Bananaman is that for the past three years, his stuff was export only. No selling in town.’

‘But now?’ Digby said.

‘Something’s changed. His stuff’s been showing up local,’ she said.

‘So, it’ll probably only be a matter of time before the cops get interested … and maybe even responsible businessmen like yourself will feel the hurt,’ Digby said. ‘You should remind him that people sharing a small patch like River Heights should be more neighborly when they’re doing business.’

‘You’re interesting … I never saw a kid with so many ideas.’

‘I think we should share,’ Digby said.

‘Share? Share how?’ she said.

‘Like I tell you that at least some of the stuff getting sold around here’s been stolen from Bananaman. He probably doesn’t know it’s happening,’ Digby said.

‘Who’s stealing from him?’ she said.

Digby cocked his head. ‘You’ve never seen Sesame Street? Your turn. Share.’

‘No one knows who he is or how he runs his operation, but I checked and his stuff turns up in Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Toronto by Friday morning every week. So that means …’

‘Thursday night,’ Digby said. ‘Every Thursday night, a ton of this stuff leaves River Heights and goes all up and down the East Coast without anyone noticing.’

‘Alistair and I checked out every roadhouse, outhouse, and henhouse, and we haven’t found anything. A cook operation that big should be easy to find. Of course, you could just tell me who’s been stealing and I could figure it out that way,’ she said. ‘Or maybe I could make you tell me.’

She cackled. Digby laughed. Alistair laughed. I wanted to laugh to fit in, but Kitten’s dead eyes freaked me out, so I just stood there, my face twitching.

‘I don’t get what’s funny,’ Henry said.

‘I’ll tell you who they are after we’re done with them,’ Digby said.

‘I don’t know, kid. I’m not the patient type. I don’t think I could stand the suspense.’

‘I’m confident you’ll find a way,’ Digby said.

Kitten tapped her nails on the bench she was sitting on. ‘Fine. But don’t make me wait too long.’

‘You’ll be the first one I tell.’ Digby started to leave.

‘Hey!’

We froze.

‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ She pointed to a digital scale and held out her hand to Digby. ‘Okay, noobs, you’re supposed to give me a dollar bill to calibrate the scale. Don’t let them use their own bill because I guarantee, it’ll be a funky hollowed-out one. It won’t matter much for when you’re just buying weed, but if you’re buying stuff sold by the gram …’

I produced a dollar when it became clear Digby didn’t have one to give.

‘A dollar bill weighs one gram exactly,’ she said. The scale agreed. ‘So, you want an onion? A cutie pie?’