GrrRrRRrrRRrrr.
Wheeeeeeee!
— An HPC Speedex
"You understand the plan, right?"
I asked because we needed this to become second nature.
Claire said, "Yeah. You'll find me a mark. My job is to get him in the hot tub so you can make a copy of his keys."
"He won't even know I exist."
"I get it."
"Tonight's the one time it's gonna be different."
"Because...?"
"Tonight's guy isn't a mark," I lied. "We're gonna use him as a trial run. And you're meeting him here."
"Who is he?"
"His name is Andre. He owns the store where I bought the hot tub. I said he should help deliver it, so he can show my sister how it works and help her break it in."
"So, I'm your sister again?"
"Always."
"Whatever."
"Listen, the hot tub's going in the garage, but I need you to talk him into getting undressed in the house. Then keep him in the hot tub for at least a half hour, OK?"
"If he's not a mark, what are you gonna do?"
"I need to know if I can hear you, when I'm in the house, and if you can hear me, when you're in the garage. This is just a test, but play it like it's real. He won't know I'm here."
"Whatever."
"Three or four guys are coming to help unload the thing and set it up. As soon as you start dropping hints with Andre about joining you in the hot tub, he'll get rid of his crew."
"Whatever."
Her lack of enthusiasm was starting to worry me.
"Remember: You're an urban outreach and assessment assistant."
"I thought I was an analyst?"
"Do a good job and maybe you'll get a promotion!"
"Whatever!"
"Also, you're elegant. Remember?"
"Fuckin' A, yeah I am. I'm one goddamn elegant bitch."
"Yeah. We gotta work on that."
A truck pulled into the driveway, and four men began installing the new hot tub. I'd already seen it in the store.
It was big, glossy, gaudy, and stupidly expensive-looking, like something rich people sit in while pretending their lives matter more because they have more. It had smooth molded seats and little jets that bubble up in waves. The outside was wrapped in fake wood panels, trying hard to pretend they were something they're not, but then again, aren't we all?
It was really just a giant plastic bathtub with delusions of grandeur. But it was an important part of the show. This was to be the ultimate magic trick. "We're gonna rob them all," I told Claire, back when we met at The Lakeside Saloon. "And they'll never know who did it. They won't even know how it happened."
I watched from inside as she flirted with the men. Andre was the tall one. He was strong, dark brown, and ridiculously handsome, but in an almost ugly way. On first look, you wouldn't see it. After that, you couldn't look away. He had a smile like a toddler who'd just taken his first dump alone and wanted to show you because he was proud. He was the kind of guy that looks smart, but isn't. The kind of guy that makes a girl think, "Part of me wants to climb you like a tree. But the rest of me wants to chop you down, because you're in the way and the firewood would be more useful."
Andre was dirty, too. The hot tub should have cost over ten grand, but he offered me a steep discount if I paid in cash and didn't need a receipt. I asked if I could pay in Bitcoin. He became a mark the moment he said yes. I paid in cash though. No digital trail, especially since I was still figuring that stuff out.
The hot tub took forever to fill, but the other men left, as I knew they would. And Andre lingered. Good boy. I waited in my bedroom, with the door cracked open.
I heard Claire talk him into joining her for a dip.
"So, Andre," she said. "Boxers or briefs? Are we gonna try this thing out? I'll get us some towels. You in?"
"Oh, yeah. Andre is in."
Andre was built like a mighty oak, but dumb as a stump.
I caught a glimpse of Claire coming out of her bedroom in a bikini. I heard her say, "Gimme a sec. I'm gonna text my friend to let her know I'm not coming over tonight. Looks like I have better plans."
"Yeaahhhh, Andre likes plans. Let's do this."
I got a text from Claire that said, "Got plans tonight. No time for third person."
Apparently, I wasn't the only one who cringed each time Andre referred to himself by name. Very clever, Claire.
When I heard the garage door close, I got to work.
Andre's pants were on the table, folded. Too easy. I grabbed his wallet and took a picture of his driver's license. I put it back. Then I snatched his keychain.
I headed down the stairs, to my basement workshop, which was really just an empty room with desk, an HPC Speedex key duplicator, and a timer. I bought the Speedex from a guy named Earl who taught me how to use it in exchange for the unspoken opportunity to constantly look down my shirt. Fair enough.
I wasn't sure how long this would take, so I started the timer and said, "GO!"
Why was I talking to myself?
Doesn't matter.
Andre's keychain had eight keys, including the key for his car, which I didn't need, but I'd copy it anyway. Why not?
In order to copy keys, I had to take them off the keychain. I took pictures first, so I could put them back on in exactly the same order as before. Leave no trace.
I inserted the first key and put in a blank. The machine's tracer followed every ridge and valley as I guided the cutter around the key. The sound of GrrrRRRrrrr echoed as metal shavings curled off the blank like pencil shavings to make an exact duplicate. It was louder than I remembered, but I figured that was just me, being nervous. And then the grinding changed to a very soft "Wheeeeeee..."
AhHa!
"DONE!"
One down. Six to go.
I checked the timer.
The first key took a minute and a half, but I'd get faster with experience.
GrrrRrRRRrrrrr...
I could do all seven in under ten minutes, but my hands had to stay steady. One slip, and I'd have to start over.
Wheeeeeeee...
I blew the dust off the second freshly cut key, and tested the grooves with my fingertip. Perfect.
Two down. Five to go.
GgrrrRRrrRrrr...
"Please keep Andre in the hot tub," I thought, as I glanced at my phone to make sure there were no new texts from Claire.
Wheeeeeee...
Creak...
...?
"SHIT. What the hell was that? Was it just an old house sound? Fuckityfuckityfuck."
I left my workshop and went creeping up the stairs, slowly, just to make sure.
"It's nothing," I told myself as I shuffled back down the stairs. "They're still in the garage. Get back to work!"
Three keys down. Four to go.
GgGRrrrrRRrrrrrr...
I couldn't help wondering, "What's going on up there, in the garage? What's she saying to him? Is she good at this?"
I kept thinking back on previous catastrophes.
I briefly worked with a girl who took the guy skinny dipping. She swore I'd have an hour, but ten minutes later she texted me to say I didn't have to rush. What. The. Fuck? Why was she by her phone, and would the mark check his? It was in his pants too. If he checked his phone, it'd be game over since he'd realize his keys were gone. Thank God, he didn't.
Wheeeeeeee...
Four keys down. Three to go.
Thank God, says the atheist. Everybody's gotta...
GGrrrrKACKmptweeeeee...
"Faaack!!!"
I goofed.
"Gotta start over on key number five."
GgrrrRRrRRRrrrr...
Everybody's gotta believe in something. I believe in me, but the plan takes two. I can't even remember how many times I'd look at somebody and think, "I know what I am. What are you, really?" I didn't know. Could I ever really know?
Wheeeeeee...
Five down. Two to go.
You can never truly know another person.
GrrRrRRrrRRrrr...
Even if you've known somebody for years, you only know what they show you, but everybody's got secrets. A human life is curated. You see what someone allows you to see. You do not truly know them.
Wheeeeeeee...
Six down. Just one more.
Most people barely...
"FUCK!"
GGGfweeerrrKAchump!
"What the?" Oops.
"Get a new blank. Start over. Why do I keep talking to myself?"
GgrrRRrrRrrRRrrr...
Most people barely even know themselves. They hide truths they won't allow themselves to see, deep in the shadows of their minds. Everybody does it. Even you. You know you do, and that's the truth.
"I wonder if Claire wonders what I'm hiding from her."
Wheeeeeeee...
"DONE!!!"
It took almost fourteen minutes, but I knew I'd get faster.
I grabbed the picture I'd snapped of Andre's keychain, so I could put the keys back on in the exact same order. There would be no signs that anything had been touched.
When I was finished, I crept up the stairs, quietly. I could faintly hear Claire and Andre, still in the hot tub. I put his keys in his pants and grabbed a bottle of bourbon from the kitchen before heading back to the basement to celebrate a job well done.
My mind raced every step of the way.
"STOP. BREATHING. HEAVY. DANDY. Shit! I mean Shay."
I didn't like feeling nervous. It made me feel like I wasn't in control.