Stupid names
are stupid.
— Hell
So far, The B was a bust. I met up with Dez the next day, to tell her what I'd found. Mostly.
"I don't get it. He flaunts money like he's loaded, but maybe it's just for show. There's nothing worth taking in his house."
She said, "Don't worry about it. I didn't feel right about this anyway. No offense. Look, I know what people think when they see me, but what I do is honest. This shit's dirty. Hell, I'm glad it's off."
I could never tell if somebody was saying "Hell," short for Hellen, or if they meant... oh, to Hell with it. I was already tired of being Hellen. It's a stupid name.
"No worries, Dez. I respect that. But listen, if you ever have a rich john and you wanna make him pay, hit me up."
"Hell, sure. Thanks."
Such a stupid name.
That was the last time I talked with Dez, but I wasn't giving up on The B.
Two nights later, there was a concert at The Array. I knew he'd be working the show, so that's when I went back to his house. I was sure I could find the second key to his safe. It had to be there, somewhere.
Everything looked the same, but the scene felt even more wrong.
He drove an SUV. Maybe he bought it used. Maybe it was a lease. Fine. He had a nice house. Maybe he inherited it. Fine. But he made good money and he made sure people knew.
"Come on, B. Where is it?" I needed to know.
I had one of the two keys to his safe, so I knew what I was looking for.
I made sure I didn't disturb anything while I searched the house from top to bottom.
"It's here," I thought. "I can feel it."
And then, I remembered, "Oh, Hell! He's a guy!"
So, I asked myself, "Where's the dumbest place an overconfident asshole would hide a key?"
The answer was obvious.
"Oh my God. It's under the throw rug, under the fucking safe."
Of course it was. Guys are idiots.
One key. Two keys. I turned 'em both, and...
"Hell... oh?"
I was in.
But it was empty.
Whadahell?
"I knew this guy was a poser!!!"
Then, I thought, "Maybe it has a false back or something?"
The safe was nearly two feet high, maybe a foot and a half wide, and almost as deep. Heavy too. The top, bottom, back and sides were all solid. No false anything. "Fuck!"
The only thing I found in the safe was a sticky note with a bunch of nonsense written on it.
"north umbrella envelope pizza satoshi orchard fire casual switch leaf prepare yellow"
Who locks up a list of words?
"And what the Hell is satoshi?"
I couldn't tell how long the sticky note had been in the safe. Maybe a few years? The sticky part wasn't very sticky anymore.
I took a picture of the note with my Polaroid before putting it back in the safe. I didn't know what it was, but it was the only thing The B bothered to lock up, so it must have been important. I didn't want him to know I'd seen it.
Then I put the key back under the rug and dragged that goddamn safe on top of it before I turned it around again.
I went through his place to make sure everything was exactly how it looked when I arrived, as if I'd never been there.
And I got the Hell out.
(Such a stupid name.)