Ketchup, soy sauce,
and a little bit of chocolate syrup,
with leftovers.
— Chef Boyareyoudead
Reggie set me up with a lady named Paula, who worked at the DMV in Merrillville. She told me to meet her at the cemetery by Veterans Memorial Park. That's not creepy at all.
When I got there, she barked at me. "You're late."
"I wanted you to arrive first, so you could see me show up alone. Let's go pretend to visit somebody's grave, so we can talk."
Paula was not what I expected.
I figured she'd be some young chick using a shitty name as an alias. Nope. Paula looked like she was somebody's grandmother, knitted shawl and all.
"Why do you need a new identity? Are you some kind of criminal?"
The lady who gets phony documents wanted to know if I was a criminal?
"I'm a runaway," I lied. "I left home a year ago, but somebody came looking for me. It's fine. I'm not in any trouble, but I moved here to start over, and I don't want to bring my name with me."
"Somebody came looking for you?"
"An ex-boyfriend. He was abusive. It's why I left. Can you help me or not?"
"What you're asking for costs a lot of money."
"How much?"
"It takes more than just a new name. The kind of ID you're asking for needs legal documents to make it real. You need a Social Security number, a birth certificate, preferably a passport, and..."
"I said, how much."
"More than you've got."
"I got more than money, lady. You asked if I was some kind of criminal. Well, what about you? You're not risking your job so you can get rich. What's your deal? I bet I can help."
"How in the hell would a kid like you help anybody?"
"First of all, I'm not a kid. And second, whatever you're up to... you're not doing it for yourself. Your car is old, but it's fine. And you're dressed like a grandma, no offense. I'm saying, you don't look the type to be doing this. So what's your deal? You got a kid in trouble?"
That was a guess, mostly just to get her talking, but I nailed it.
"Something like that."
"Does he owe a bank? Or a guy? 'Cause, if he owes a bank, I probably can't do shit. But if he owes a guy..."
"He owes a guy."
Of course her shithead kid was a he, and of course he owed a guy.
"Okay then. I know a guy who makes problems like that go away. How much does your kid owe?"
"My kid's paid up. It's the interest now. I'm helping him work it off, but it's a lot."
"That's nothing. If I can make the debt go away, how much will it cost for my new name, paperwork, and ID?"
"If you can do that, I'll do it for free."
"I'm not asking for that. I'm not gonna help your kid get out of debt only to put you in somebody else's debt. Fuck that. Oops, sorry." Shouldn't be too crass around grandma. "Anyway, to get everything I'd need, what are your expenses?"
"Getting you a new driver's license isn't the issue. You'll show up at the DMV and pay in cash. Seventeen bucks. It's gonna cost me two thousand for the paperwork to make your new name legal, plus another thousand to the guy who gets it for me. So, my costs are three thousand. And it's gonna take me at least a month to get everything. By the time you come to the DMV, your new name will be legal, so the ID you get will be real. You won't get it on the spot though. We mail 'em, so you'll need a real address to have it sent to."
"Okay. That works. So, here's the deal between you and me. I'll pay you three grand up front, and I'll make your kid's debt go away. In exchange, I want to pick a name for the identity you get me."
"You can pick a first name. More than that? It gets too complicated."
"Good enough."
"What's the name?"
"Shayna. With a Y."
"It might take a while, depending on how the paperwork comes together. You okay with that?"
"Yeah."
Okay. So, how are you gonna get my son out of debt?"
"Let's just say, I know a guy who ends problems. I'll tell you more about that when I bring you the money."
We met again a week later. She said to make it someplace inconspicuous, so I picked the parking lot of the pumpkin patch in Portage. Halloween brings out the weirdos. It seemed like the perfect spot to seal the deal.
"Here's payment, as promised," I said as I handed her a paper bag with three grand in cash. "Now, for the part about getting your kid out of debt. He owes a guy, right?"
"Right."
"Tell that guy, a friend of Duquan Fokari and Nono is asking him nicely to forgive the interest, since your son already paid back the money he borrowed."
"Who the hell is Duquan Fokari?"
"Don't worry about it," I said, while handing her a Polaroid. "And don't mention who gave you this picture. Guys don't fear chicks the way they fear each other." But they should. "If the guy is a loan shark, he'll know who Foke is. And if he doesn't know, he'll take one look at this picture and you can bet your ass he'll find out. And he'll settle your son's debt fast. If he doesn't, let me know."
Grandma took one look at the picture and she jumped.
"Jesus Christ!!!"
"Relax. It's not real, but it looks scary as hell, doesn't it?"
The photo was very real. I'd taken it earlier in the week at the Boxtan Inn while meeting with Foke to swap The B's Bitcoin for cash. Apparently, someone named Jet got behind on a debt and wasn't able to settle up in, shall we say, a timely manner. "One way o' anotha'," Foke said, "payment is made."
And, thus, Jet met Nono.
Nono does good work. Very bad, yes. Terribly bad, but very, very good.
I told Paula it was a chopped up mannequin. "The rest is ketchup, soy sauce, and a little bit of chocolate syrup, with leftovers to make it look legit."
"That's... a lot of leftovers," she said.
"Yeah, from some really shitty meat."
Grandma could tell I was lying because the photo spoke the truth.
Debt can be vicious, but fate can be much worse. To free her kid from a predatory loan, she put it in her purse.
I knew she would.
Freedom isn't free. That photo proved it.