We both know you're not Claire.
— A Hoosier Truther
It was early February. Claire and I had been together for two weeks. I'd been teaching her how to spot marks, and we worked on her backstory as we got to know each other. We were almost ready to get to work when Paula called. She wanted to discuss something with Claire, but she wouldn't say what.
"Not on the phone," she said, as if the fucking FBI was listening. Whatever.
I had her meet us at Doozy Donuts in Westside so I could grab breakfast while the two of them talked. I ordered a monstrosity of a donut called the Hoosier Doozy. It's made of fried dough, rolled in sugar, filled with sugar, and glazed with more sugar before being dusted with powdered sugar. Y'know. Health food.
Paula said, "I've got good news and bad news."
"Leth hear ih," I replied, more or less, as I brushed Doozie droppings off my shirt.
Paula handed Claire a birth certificate. She said, "I managed to get the name you wanted, but it isn't exactly the same."
I thought Claire was going to blow her top when she saw it.
"Hang on..."
Uh oh. "Whaffthamatta?"
"This thing says I'm... CLARITY?!?"
"That's right," Paula said. "You can now legally use the name Clarity Rae Jenkins. I know you wanted it to be Clarissa, but Clarity is the best I could do."
"This name is an even bigger doozy than that donut, Shay."
"Wah ebber!" I said, while trying not to choke on the thing. "Ith juff a name. An' dith donuth's perdy gerrd."
"Fuck it. I'm still Claire. You're disgusting. Paula, what's the good news?"
"It's done," she said. "I found an infant in Michigan that died and the records weren't reconciled. The birth stayed in the county books and the Social Security file never closed out. Anyway, the paperwork's ready and everything in the system looks like the name's always been yours. This turned out to be pretty easy. Usually takes a lot longer, but we got lucky."
"One person's death is another person's luck. That's fucking dark."
"Ith a dark worwd, Cwaire."
"Don't talk with your mouth full, Shay. Jesus."
"Wah EBBER!"
And that was that. I now had a favorite donut and Claire had a legit fake name. She was a few years older now, too. The birth certificate said she was born in Flint, Michigan, on August 9th, 1995.
I grabbed a couple more Doozies to go, before we headed to the DMV for her new ID. I forgot to warn her we still had to do that, and I had a feeling we'd be there a while.
I didn't mind.
I was happy as a clam, but not a Clamber.
She said, "What are we doing, Shay? Why do I need a legit driver's license for a fake name?"
"It's a legal identity now. Our whole thing is about selling stolen Bitcoin, remember? Gonna put that money in a bank account under your real name? I don't think so."
"Why waste our time at the fucking DMV though?"
"I need you to see the big picture. This thing you and I are starting? It has so much potential. You can't risk getting caught with a fake ID, but you can't use your real one either. What if a mark notices the name on your driver's license doesn't match what you told him?"
"How?"
"Let's say you're on a date and you get carded. Maybe the bartender reads the name on your ID out loud, and the mark says, 'Amber? I thought your name was Claire.' Details matter. We need to do this right."
"Got it. Thanks for giving me fuckin' clarity on that."
Clearly, Claire was cranky.
When we finally got back home, I tried to cheer her up with a pep talk. I also may have been on a doozy of a sugar high.
"I got something for ya," I said. "Something small."
"Oh?"
I pulled a quarter out of my pocket and flipped it in the air. Then I caught it and handed it to her. It was a Vermont quarter, from the series of commemorative state quarters the government was making a few years ago.
It wasn't valuable. It wasn't about that.
It was about the words.
"Wow," she said. "Look at the big spender over here. You got me a quarter, Shay?"
"Read the back."
"It says, 'Vermont, 1791.'"
"Not that. Keep reading."
"It says, 'Freedom and Unity.'"
"That's right. Freedom and Unity. You and me, Claire. A few years ago, a guy told me money is a trap. I said, 'You better have kickass health insurance, 'cause I'll kick your ass if you say that again.' Rich people love to act like having more is a hardship or a burden. What a crock of shit. Poverty is a trap. Money means freedom. Gimme that quarter. Lemme show you something."
As she handed it back, I said, "Watch."
I pretended to grip it tight in my right hand, but I let it fall into my left. I swung my arms and slapped my fists together, right over left, with a bullshit exaggerated gesture. Then I opened my right hand to show her the quarter, and I handed it back to her.
"What the hell was that?" she said.
"Look at the back."
"It's... oh. It's a different quarter now. You switched 'em?"
"Yeah, it's a trick, using two coins. Read the back of that one."
"It says, 'New Hampshire. Live Free or Die.'"
"You're goddamn right. That's a special quarter, Claire. I got it from my sorta-uncle when I was a kid. He taught me a bunch of magic tricks. That trick is called the French Drop, but I put my own spin on it. Hey, when you're six, it's cool. Anyway, he gave that quarter to me, and I'm giving it to you. Money means freedom."
"So, live free or die?"
"Hell yeah. The two of us are like two sides of a coin. I'm the darkness. You're the light. Every guy thinks he's looking for the light of his life, right? That's you, at least for a night. That's how you get 'em."
"If you think I'm the light, you don't know me, Shay."
"It's not about what I know. It's about what the mark sees. That's why you're now elegant, remember? In this scheme, you're the girl and I'm a ghost. But for the mark, you're the light. One look at you and his eyes are gonna light right up."
"Okay, ghostie."
"You've gotta admit, this is all starting to take shape. Let's get a bottle of something good to celebrate. Maker's Mark, maybe. Or Jameson? What kind of hooch does Clarity Rae Jenkins like?"
"Clarity Rae. Fuckin' A. It sounds like I'm a hick."
"Make her whatever you want her to be. I mean, let's be honest here. We both know you're not Claire. But who are you, really? Do you even know? If you think you do, you're wrong. You know who you were. Let that shit go. The past is just a lie. It's gone. It's dead. Live free or die."
"Live free or die. It does sound kinda badass."
"Listen, there's no such thing as destiny. The only thing you're destined to become is what you decide to be. I know where I found you, but that's what you were, not what you are. Do you wanna be something else? Or somebody else? Do it. Find Clarity. She is whoever and whatever you want her to be. Make the name real. Make the new you real. That's what this whole thing is about."
"And the money," she said, rolling her eyes.
"And what it means. You and me, Claire? We're gonna be rich. But it's not about the money. It's about what the money means. Too many people spend their entire lives struggling just to get by. Poverty is a trap. Money means freedom. Live Free or Die."
"That's a pretty good speech, Shay. Sounds like you practiced it."
"Hell no, I didn't practice it."
Hell yes, I did.
"It's a good speech, Claire, because I believe it."
There was a time when I had to convince myself. That's why I know how to convince somebody else.
"I'm serious," I said. "Money means freedom. Live Free or Die."
Editor's Note:
The 50 State Quarters Program was launched by the U.S. Mint in 1999 and ran through 2008. The New Hampshire Quarter, minted in 2000, features an image of the Old Man of the Mountain and the phrase "Live Free or Die."
"Live Free or Die; Death is Not the Worst of Evils" originates from a toast written by General John Stark in 1809.
"Live Free or Die" became the official motto of New Hampshire in 1945.