She had to know they deserved it.
— Sabotage
My deal with Foke was simple. He bought as much Bitcoin as I could get him, and he paid in cash. He took ten percent off the top because, though it was never said, he understood my Bitcoin was stolen.
Foke was a drug dealer. This was money laundering.
My deal with Claire was complicated. We were partners, but she worked for me. I originally offered her half of everything after expenses, but I never defined what expenses were, and we never talked about money. I made sure she had cash in her pocket, and I gave her one of the bedrooms in the house, rent free. I also made sure the kitchen was always stocked. The liquor cabinet too.
My deal with myself was a promise that I'd take care of myself and figure out the rest when the future got here. Northwest Indiana was starting to grow on me, in a weird ugly-pretty way, but I knew I could have more. And do more. And be more.
I wanted more.
Chicago felt like the next obvious step, but I wasn't ready. I needed to see it though, and I felt like I needed to see it with Claire. I wasn't sure where our partnership was going, but we'd been together since January. It was already August.
I was hoping a trip into the city would lead to a discussion about the future. I had ideas. I had long-term plans. Would she be part of them?
When we met, she said she'd been to Chicago. I figured she'd be my tour guide. That idea died fast.
She asked, "Where are we going?"
"Chicago."
"Right, but what do you want to see?"
"I don't know."
"Then what's the point?"
"Entertain me, dammit!"
I'm not good at hanging out as friends. Or the friends thing, in general. But we didn't have any plans that day, so away we went.
The drive into the city was ugly. The landscape looked industrial and scarred. If Gary Indiana was a child, Chicago's South Side was its abusive parent. Hostile and unrepentant. Hardened, yet broken.
As we drove deep into the heart of it, everything changed. Chicago became a thing of beauty that made me gasp. I thought, "Oh my God, it's a mirage."
Majestic towers, some over a hundred years old, were dwarfed by equally yet differently amazing structures made of steel and glass. And there were parks, and trains, and people everywhere. All of this should have made me feel microscopic, as if I would disappear within it should I dare to step out of the car. Instead, it felt like I'd found a place to be huge.
Chicago was there for the taking. It was waiting for me. All of it.
We parked in the Loop so we could wander.
Reckless Records was our first stop. It's a used record shop on Wabash. I picked up an old Beastie Boys CD. The one with Sabotage. It's from before my time, but come on, it's a classic. I'd been wanting it ever since I saw it in a mark's apartment. I could have just stolen his, but, y'know. Rules are rules. Usually. Shut up.
We picked up some smarty-pants music for her to play when she was with a mark. Jazz. Miles Davis. Dave Brubeck. Claire insisted it had to be stuff from the '50s.
"Why the fuck would that matter?"
"For the marks," she said. "It's sounds like I know what I'm talking about if I mention an era."
Whatever.
After that, we headed across the river, along the Magnificent Mile, because I wanted to grab a late lunch at Gino's East. I'm not convinced Chicago deep dish pizza is actually pizza. It's more like a pizza meatloaf with crust, but, goddamn, it was fantastic.
Then, Claire dragged me to an indie bookstore called After-Words. I thought the place smelled old. She rolled her eyes and said it smelled wise as she thumbed through a book on Buddhism. Peace Is Every Step. Apparently, one of the marks was into it.
Whatever.
Navy Pier was too touristy, so we went to Ohio Street Beach instead, and we sat in the sand and talked about how far we'd come.
As she watched the little waves rolling in along Lake Michigan, she smiled.
I asked, "Who are you?"
She said, "Claire Jenkins."
"Are you?"
I asked as if I wasn't sure, but really, I wanted to know if she was.
"Of course I am," she said. "Who else would I be?"
"Who do you wanna be?"
She looked confused. "What are we doing here, Shay?"
"We're talking about how far we've come, and what's next."
I told her the story of when I was living in Tonawa, and how I used to break into Linda's home to steal decorative plates, just so I could break in again to bring them back. I told her why I kept the Chicago plate, and how I kept it for three years, even when I was homeless. I talked about that plate as a reminder of a goal, as if getting to Chicago would prove I'd gotten out of Tonawa.
And then I stopped, because I remembered I was sitting right in the heart of the windy city skyline. I'd accomplished more than I ever set out to do. I should've felt triumphant. Instead, I felt a yearning.
I said, "Claire, we've got a good thing going in Indiana, but I want more. And this is it."
"So, what then?" she asked. "You want to go straight?"
"Fuck no. I want to go big."
The silence that followed told me she did not.
When she finally did speak, she said, "I want to make Claire real. I know she isn't, but she could be. I've already made lots of changes to be more like her. I like myself more when I'm being her, and I'm not talking about the girl in the hot tub. I'm talking about the way I feel when I'm alone, when there's nothing but peace and quiet. And I'm talking about the way someone looks at me when they're interested in what I have to say. I know Claire isn't real, but I like so many things about her. I want to make her real."
"What does that mean though?"
"It means I want to stop pretending and start building a life."
"That's why we're doing this, Claire."
"Is it? Shay, you're in a war against the world, and you can't win. Nothing can bring you peace but yourself. Your fight is to find guys who have too much, so you can take it. You want to have it all, and you want to make them suffer. But no matter how much you get, you'll need more. I promised myself I'm only doing this for a year, so I can have enough to make a fresh start. So I can be free of what I was. That's what I want. You want war. I want peace."
"'Nothing can bring you peace but yourself,' Claire? That's a pretty good line. Is it from the Buddha book?"
"No, it's a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson. It's true though."
And then Claire leaned back, until she was lying down, and she spread her arms wide, running her fingers through the sand. "It's so warm," she said. "Each grain of sand is its own little thing, but each is enough, and together, they become this. This nice, soft, warm bed of a beach. And the water moves in and out in waves. Each wave is its own thing while being part of a bigger thing. I don't know what I want to be part of, when I'm done doing this, but I need it to be real. I'm just playing a role in your scheme. I do my part. It's fun, but it's just an act. I want a life that's real."
"Who decides what's real though?"
"Consequences decide what's real, Shay. Look at this sand. In Florida, I bet the sand gets churned the most during hurricane season, when storms slam the shore. But this beach gets tossed and turned more during winter storms. Mother Nature brings consequences, kinda like you do, but Mother Nature can bring peace too. That's where you and me are different. You love being the storm. You live for the war. I can bring rage too, but when this is over? I want peace."
"So, no consequences for you, eh?"
"Time will tell," she said, as she closed her eyes. Maybe she was hiding them. Maybe she was afraid they'd reveal too much or show that she was weak. But I already knew she was a softie at heart. I'd known for a while. And I did think it was weakness at first, but it might be a strength in its own way. It's what made her a survivor despite everything she'd been through before we met.
She enjoyed bringing karma to bad guys as much as I did. But she had to know they deserved it. I just had to know I got 'em.
She was right about one thing: I enjoyed being the storm. I needed to feel the fury. I needed to know I could bring it. That's my strength.
Claire doesn't have killer instinct, but I didn't need that from her. Her softness is what reeled in the marks.
War and peace. They're two sides of a coin. Just like us.
I watched as Claire ran her fingers across the sand again, but she wasn't stirring it up. She was smoothing it out. And she smiled. I smiled too, for different reasons. She was thinking small. I was thinking big.
When we eventually got up to leave, she had sand in her hair and she liked it. And I had the wind at my back, where it belonged.
I could feel it.
Editor's Note:
Sabotage is from the album Ill Communication, by the Beastie Boys. In 2021, Rolling Stone magazine ranked Sabotage at #245 in their list of the 500 greatest songs of all time.
Peace Is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life, by Buddhist monk Thích Nhất Hạnh, is a guide for using mindfulness to manage anger, sorrow, and grief.
Never before have Sabotage and Peace Is Every Step been listed together.