Hello dear readers!

I apologize for my long silence. I won't bother you with the details, but life sometimes gets in the way. But never fear, I hope you'll find that my chapter makes up for the wait!

Chapter 32

I didn't get a beating. I kept expecting Harry to deliver one, but… nothing. Besides those two slaps Harry had given me in the heat of the moment, he didn't punish me for running away. I wasn't grounded, or lost any privileges. Harry acted as if the episode had never happened. It wasn't like him to be this lenient. That should've been my first clue he was up to something. That, and all the thinking.

Harry had never been much of a talker, but he did an awful lot of thinking following that incident, even for him. He would sit, drink in hand, and watch me. His eyes would gloss over as he mused over images only he could see; he would often frown, or look at me quizzically. It was weird.

His behaviour should've put me on high alert. I did note it, but it didn't seem that important. I had other things to worry about, namely, Marvin. For the first time since my abduction, I was on bad terms with him. We had had our occasional spats, but those didn't last. This time, however, forgiveness didn't come easy.

Marvin wouldn't play with me or talk to me anymore. Most of the time, he wouldn't acknowledge my presence if he could help it. And when Marvin did speak to me, he was curt and prone to snap.

I didn't like this change in attitude. I wanted the old Marvin back; I needed him. To demand forgiveness after what I had done might've been selfish of me, but I couldn't help it. Marvin had helped me cope with my abduction from day one; it was natural for me to turn to him. Only this time, Marvin wasn't there for me. I had taken his good nature for granted and was now feeling its loss.

Apologizing did no good. Marvin wasn't in a forgiving mood. Looking back, I realize it wasn't just about the gunshot wound; I had humiliated Marvin, I had stolen from him, betrayed his trust and had turned his gun on him. I had fucked up good, but didn't realize how badly. As a ten-year-old, I only saw his physical wound. And since I considered the whole thing an accident, I couldn't understand why Marvin wouldn't accept my apology.

The one good news was that Marvin's wound healed just fine. My first stitches weren't so bad, though, next to Harry's neat ones, they came out uneven on Marvin's flesh. Harry didn't let me do more than a couple; I was too slow and it would've been cruel to prolong Marvin's pain longer than necessary. Harry just wanted me to get the feel of it. Later, he made me practise more stitches on bananas, which are surprisingly similar to human flesh.

My first aid training didn't stop at stitches; Harry showed me how to clean Marvin's wound and change his bandages. He might've been able to do this by himself, but Harry insisted it was my responsibility. I applied myself, hoping to gain Marvin forgiveness, but it wasn't enough.

"I'm going out. Don't wait up," he announced one evening as soon as I had finished tying his bandage.

Going out was Marvin's way of avoiding me. He didn't even bother coming up with an excuse. I held up my Nintendo controller full of hope; he used to love racing me at Micro Machine.

"Do you want to play?"

But Marvin ignored my question and walked out the door. I was crushed by his rejection and sat back down. I didn't turn on my Nintendo. It was no fun without him.

"Marv'll come around, kid. Just give him time," Harry told me, as he finished putting away the first aid kit.

He didn't offer to play with me. He never did.

"I said I was sorry. He's just being a jerk," I hid my hurt behind anger.

"You're sorry Marv got shot, but what about the rest?"

If Harry meant the running away, I wasn't sorry about that. I was sorry I had failed and even sorrier I had to deal with the consequences, but I wasn't sorry for trying to go home. When I didn't answer, all Harry said was:

"Our family means a lot to Marv, and you let him down. You think about that."

There was that word again, family. Not so long ago, I had screamed to Harry we would never be a family and I had meant it. Harry, however, was stubborn. Even when Marvin didn't seem to buy into our family anymore, he didn't give up.

Harry had also raised a good point; Marvin was arguably the one who had worked the hardest to make me feel at home, a part of a family, and now… Marvin was angry. He didn't like me anymore. And it hurt. I didn't want it to hurt, but it did. My feelings toward Harry and Marvin had been so much clearer when I thought I would get away from them. My failure had muddied everything in my mind and in my heart. For better or worse, Harry and Marvin were all I had.

"Harry; are we still a family?" I sighed, fiddling with my Nintendo controller without looking at him.

"Depends; do you want us to be?

– Sometimes." I answered truthfully.

When I didn't think too hard about my birth family, when Harry and Marvin didn't lock me up and when they didn't hurt me. Harry and Marvin were better than no family at all.

"This family or ours; it's on 24/7, not just when you feel like it."

I bristled; I wasn't the only to one to blame for my running away.

"What about when you hurt me? Are we a family then?" I glared accusingly.

Harry smirked, unapologetic, before holding up his right palm in which the letter M was forever seared.

"Always."

Every time Harry had brought up this memory, I had feared his revenge. I thought it was only a matter of time before he branded me. That evening, there was something different about Harry; he showed no bitterness or anger.

"Kevin, I'm only hard on you cause you can take it. You're a smart kid; you've got so much potential."

I didn't have the foresight to ask Harry potential for what exactly. His faraway look came back, but only for a second.

"Family's more than blood, kid. One day, you'll see. I'm not giving up on you."

As twisted as it might sound coming from my kidnapper, I found that notion comforting. Even after how badly I had messed up, Harry still treated me like family. He didn't shut me out. I needed that. Of course, that might've been calculated on his part.

I never found out the extent of Harry's plans for me. He never stated his vision plainly and it's only in hindsight that I pieced it back together. I'm sure he must've shared it with Marvin, but I was left in the dark. Harry also wasn't afraid to gamble on the long run. That's why my education as a future burglar didn't begin as one might expect. It looked quite innocent, if not downright responsible of him.

It started not too long after that exchange. Harry came home from work carrying boxes into the basement. For a second, I feared those were moving boxes, until I realized they weren't empty. Harry rearranged the table and chairs around the blackboard, before unpacking his supplies. There were flip charts, boards, notebooks, rulers, chalk and other stuff. I raised an eyebrow.

"What's that?"

To my astonishment, Harry explained sternly:

"You keep getting yourself in trouble, cause you have too much time on your hands. From now on, that's going to change."

I wasn't sure what he meant and watched him set up a colour-coded chart on the wall. Intrigued, I took a closer look and discovered a weekly schedule. And when I say schedule, I mean a complete schedule where every hour was accounted for.

The next box Harry opened was filled with books; cursive handwriting and spelling rules workbooks, storybooks, including James and the Giant Peach, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and The Witches. There were books on punctuation, geometry, American presidents, landmarks, introduction to US history and more. I was speechless.

"You bought me school books?

– You've fallen behind in your education." After a pause, Harry added, "That's our fault. We shouldn't have let that happen."

Hearing Harry acknowledge any mistake was jarring. Before I could think of what to say, he handed me a math workbook:

"I want you to do the first page before dinner. Do all the exercises. No skipping, we'll go over them together. Then we'll work on your spelling. And no video games until you're done."

Stunned, I looked to Marvin who had followed Harry downstairs to gage his reaction. He didn't seem surprised, which told me Harrys must've discussed this with him, but that didn't mean he approved. He picked up a book, turned it over, scowling.

"This is bullshit; how much did you pay for all this?"

Spoken like someone who had taken his education for granted; Marvin might've never attended college, but that had been his choice. No one had deprived him of a basic education.

"Marv, if you're not going to help, you can leave," Harry replied, undeterred, as he continued: "I want you to pick a book, any one you like, and read the first chapter by tomorrow. We'll talk about it, so no cheating. I'll know.

– You wanna waste your time playing teaching with the kid, that's your loss. I'm out!"

And as had become his habit, Marvin stormed out. Harry didn't seem annoyed by his partner's attitude. He almost sounded amused.

"Look on the bright side, kid; Marv isn't calling you "brat" anymore."

I was only "brat" or other nastier terms when they were angry with me. I should've rejoiced at this small progress, but I was mostly overwhelmed by this change in my life.

"You want me to study? Why?

– Cause studying is important," Harry told me, which was not really an answer. "Now get cracking. I'll call you when dinner's ready."

Unsure, I flipped through the books. I had forgotten how nice new books smelled. It reminded me of the first day back to school, which had always been exciting. I had not expected Harry to take any interest in my education. It had to mean he cared!

"Hey, Harry?

– What?

– Thanks. For the books and all.

– I'm investing in you, kid," was his crafty answer. "And I know you'll be worth every penny."

I was too distracted by this apparent kindness to dwell on Harry's words. And soon, I was much too busy to think about it. My life stopped revolving around television. Homework replaced the afternoon soaps. Given how I was alone most of the day, it would've been easy to ignore Harry's schedule, but honestly, studying was a nice change of pace. I was done with television! And Harry's schedule wasn't as strict as it had first looked. Every hour was accounted for, but Harry never asked me to study for eight hours straight.

His schedule was all about flexibility; it included time for my piano practice, the Disney afternoon cartoons, movie night, my daily chores and yes, even video games. Harry also made sure to keep each study block no longer than half an hour. It wasn't hard to follow.

Harry became my main teacher. What he lacked in patience, he made up in stubbornness. He would teach me an hour in the morning and lay out my assignments for the day before leaving for work. In the evening, he would drill me on my lessons, review my work and give me dictations. He put a lot of time and effort in my home schooling. Harry didn't have to do that, but he did it. Yet another reason for me to be grateful to him. Had my education been left to Marvin, I don't think he would've invested that much in me.

It took some time for Marvin to come around to my home schooling. Save for his initial outburst, he didn't criticize Harry's initiative and he stayed out of the way. Later, Marvin would be involved in lighter topics, but Harry remained in charge of the main ones.

Harry followed a basic curriculum, but he also gave me the freedom to study what I liked. He encouraged my curiosity, even if my interests were all over the place. I studied the stars and constellations for a while; I learned about dragons and other mythical creatures, before studying dinosaurs and mummies! I haven't got down to the Civil War yet, but I know all about how Hannibal triumphed over the Romans, and how the Prohibition era contributed to the advancement of forensic chemistry.

No content was off limits with Harry, though I suspect he guided me along the way. It was probably no coincidence that after taking my education in hands, Marvin rented all the classic gangster movies, Scarface, Bonnie and Clyde, and The Godfather part I and II. With the conclusion of Gotti's trial in New York earlier that year, the media was overflown with information on wiseguys and organized crime. Those gangsters weren't like other historical figures out of dusty old books. They were real, tangible, glamorous, even. I didn't see how Harry encouraged and fed my fascination for the outlaws. It was one of the subtle ways he found to attract me to the underworld.

That came in due time, however. Before teaching me the fine art of thieving, introducing me to their contacts and fencing buddies, Harry eased me into the life one step at the time. And I took my first dive into criminality that very autumn, on an unlikely night.

Halloween.

There had been no mention of Halloween since that row in the kitchen. And since Marvin was still snubbing me, I had put a cross on Halloween, scary movies and candy.

Harry, however, had planned a night to remember.

When they came home from work, that evening Harry reviewed my homework, as usual, while I practised piano. Marvin was nowhere in sight. I expected him to go in town. As far as I knew, he would be the only one enjoying Halloween.

"You're still struggling with writing fractions, I see," Harry commented. "We'll go over that tomorrow."

I reached for my paper and pencil for our daily dictation when he stopped me:

"You can put those away. Tonight's Halloween, everybody deserves a break. How about eating out?"

Harry and Marvin hadn't taken me out in public since our move to Tennessee. I hadn't thought they would let me leave the house, let alone go out in public, not after I had tried to escape for a third time.

"Out? We're going out?" I repeated without concealing my excitement.

"We're taking a little road trip and we'll have a bite on the road. Does that sound fun?"

Eating out? A surprise road trip? This wasn't Halloween, this was Christmas come early!

"Where are we going? Can we get pizza?

– It's a surprise and sure, why not!

– Are you taking me trick-or-treating?"

The frown I received in response made me regret the question.

"We've been through this, kid; no trick-or-treating."

Perhaps sensing my nervousness, Harry's frown disappeared.

"There's more to do on Halloween than trick-or-treating. Besides, didn't Marv promise you a good time?

– Marv is coming?"

Hearing that Marvin would spend the evening with us filled me with hope. His grudge had lasted much longer than I could stand; I was willing to try anything to reconcile with him. And I bet Harry knew it.

"Course he is! He's been looking forward to us spending time together."

I almost rolled my eyes.

"Harry, we're always together.

– Home doesn't count. It's about time we start doing things together, like a real family. Remember, kid; a family that sticks together stays together."

So Harry's objective was to bring our family together? It sounded a little simplistic to me, but I shrugged it off. Why argue when we were about to spend the evening out? And who cared about the details, as long as Marvin and I were friends again.

We left as the sun was setting. I had been careful not to annoy Marvin, afraid he would change his mind at the last minute and decide not to come. Although he didn't speak with me, Marvin was relaxed and in a good mood. He found a radio station playing the Ghostbuster's theme song and chatted with Harry.

I would've settled for this improvement over his silence when Marvin handed me a bag. To my surprise, I found all my favourite candy, chocolate bars, gummies, bubble gum and licorice inside.

"See? I told you I'd get you candy."

Marvin still sounded grumpy, but he had bought me candy.

"Thanks, Marv!"

I feel so stupid remembering how overjoyed I was by this scrap of attention. Marvin hadn't said anything, yet I was sure we were friends again. We would have a good evening I made myself promise. Nothing would spoil it!

The night fell fast. There weren't any trick-or-treaters out on our street, but some neighbours had lit toothy pumpkins on their porch. I wish we could've admired the Halloween decorations in town, but Harry headed for the highway.

"So, what's the plan?" I wanted to know from the backseat, chewing on a piece of licorice.

"Pizza first, then we'll find a nice place to party," Marvin told me.

"We're going to a party? A haunted house party?

– More like a treasure hunt," Harry revealed. "Are you up for a treasure hunt?

– Sure!"

Treasure hunt, haunted house, as long as we were doing something new, I was all for it! And the night sounded so promising! The further we drove from the house, the happier Marvin became; He laughed, sang along the radio and shared my candy. It was as if a heavy veil had been lifted.

"This'll be great," he said, rubbing his hands. "You're going to be our lucky charm, kid; I can feel it."

A lucky charm? I could live with that new nickname and smiled broadly. How I had missed the fun-loving Marvin!

About an hour into our trip, Harry found a mom and pop pizzeria out in the suburbs. It was a small place, hardly a restaurant. Most customer ordered pizzas to go, but there were a few empty tables in the dining area. It was poorly lit and noisy, with the cooks shouting and laughing over the radio, but it was a step up from roadside diners Harry and Marvin usually picked.

We sat at the back, out of view from the customers at the counter. Harry made me sit against the wall and sat next to me, probably to prevent any trouble, but I wasn't looking for trouble. This was supposed to be a good night. Marvin wasn't ignoring me anymore and I wasn't about to ruin it.

We ordered an extra large pizza and were pleased to find that the cooks weren't stingy on the pepperoni and the cheese wasn't the cheap synthetic kind. I think Harry preferred his homemade pizza, but he didn't complain.

This would be the highlight of the evening, at least for me.

It was some time after leaving the pizzeria that I started to wonder where we were going. We were now far out of Memphis, with no treasure hunt advertisement in sight. If I had first been impatient to reach our destination, I grew nervous as Harry left the highway.

"Where are we going?" I would ask every few minutes. "Are we there yet?

– Settle down, kid; enjoy the ride!" was all Marvin said in response to my restlessness.

We drove through smaller towns, but didn't stop anywhere. It was late and I only saw the occasional band of costumed teenagers roaming the streets. Soon we left those small agglomerations behind to go through country back roads. At that point, I stopped asking where we were going. This wasn't fun anymore.

We kept driving in the night. There were no street lamps to light our way and we didn't encounter other cars. Eventually, Harry slowed as we reached a forked road.

"Okay, kid; you pick!" he then told me.

"Pick what?

– Where do we go from here? Left or right? Your call."

I peered through the darkness, but there wasn't much to see. Both roads seemed identical. I wasn't sure I followed Harry's game.

"Are we lost? I thought you knew where we were going!

– Don't you worry about that; this is part of the adventure. So what will it be; left or right?"

I considered the options again before picking one randomly.

"Left. Let's go left.

– Left it is!"

This time, Harry drove slowly as Marvin and he perused the road ahead. Through the tree branches, I sometimes caught a glimpse of faraway lights, and although I pointed those out to Harry and Marvin, they showed no sign of stopping there. I didn't like their behaviour. They were on the lookout for something and I smelled trouble.

"This is boring! Can we go home?

– Go home? What are you talking about, we're almost there!" Marvin replied without acknowledging my growing uneasiness.

Harry then spotted a trail, barely a road, up ahead.

"That one looks promising.

– Good enough," agreed Marvin.

The car's headlights lit three signs pointing down the trail. One was a straight arrow, another was in the shape of a duck and the last one was a plain oval. All three looked handmade with names painted on them.

"Where are we?

– We've been invited to three parties," Marvin explained. "The Millers, the Harris and… the Kings," he read the names off the sign. "Which one sounds more fun?"

I had a bad feeling about this.

"You don't know those people, do you?

– That's no reason not to pay them a visit! I say we try the Millers first. They sound nice, what do you say, kid?"

I didn't answer, but that didn't keep Harry from driving onward. My pulse quickened and my pizza weighted on my stomach. My feeling became certainty when we reached a log cabin on piers. There was no party waiting for us. There was no one at all. Harry turned off the motor as he and Marvin asserted the property with expert eyes.

"Not bad; there's a shed in the back.

– Could be tools," Marvin speculated. "They closed the curtain. That's always promising.

– Only one way to find out," Harry chuckled.

Reaching beneath their seats, they both grabbed their crowbars.

"Crowbars up!" Harry ordered cheerfully as he and Marvin tapped each other' crowbars with a laugh.

"Why do you have crowbars?"

I knew why, but I was in denial. Surely, they didn't mean to break into this cabin! Not while I was there. Witnessing their crimes, a burglary, crossed an unspoken line. It stirred up bad memories, bad blood between us. I couldn't believe they would bring me along.

"We're on a treasure hunt, remember?" stated Marvin, full of mischief.

"You're going to rob this place!"

The accusation didn't stump him.

"Maybe, but maybe not," he reflected. "It all depends on what we find, really."

But they hadn't driven all this way to go home empty-handed. If this was their idea of fun, I wanted no part of it. I crossed my arms:

"This sucks! I'm not going.

– Kid, don't spoil our fun!" Marvin reverted to his sullen tone. "Just think of all the treasures waiting for us inside!"

He hadn't called me "brat", but I could feel how irritated Marvin was by my negative response to our family outing.

"Stop lying! This isn't a treasure hunt!

– Hey! Who's been bugging us to go out! Well, we're out!" Marvin snapped back, his temper flaring.

"Marv, why don't you go make sure no one's home?" Harry smoothly intervened. "The kid and I will follow."

Muttering under his breath, Marvin got out of the car, making a point of slamming the door behind. I watched him disappear around the cabin feeling conflicted. I had not meant to anger Marvin. We had been so close to mending our differences!

"Now, Kevin; I'm so disappointed in you," Harry began. "I thought you were old enough to behave on this trip."

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks at the rebuke. I hated being spoken to like a child, especially when I hadn't done anything wrong! By letting Harry draw me into this discussion, I didn't see how I was playing right into his mind game.

"I'm not a thief!

– Yeah, tell me about it!" Harry chuckled to himself. "We brought you here to have fun; no one is asking you to steal anything.

– No, but you are!

– Tonight is not about stealing, it's about family, our family," Harry explained. "Marv and me, we should be honest with you. About who we are, and what we do.

– I know you guys are burglars. I didn't forget."

How could I forget? The last thing I needed was a front row seat to their activities.

"We may be thieves, but we're also a family, Kevin," Harry continued. "You're a big part of our lives and we want to share this with you."

Share this with me? The trauma of that Christmas night still loomed large in my memory; I wasn't ready to see Harry and Marvin back in the role of burglars just yet.

"I don't want you to!" I replied, getting flustered. "When you guys… Last time… It was bad, and-

– Don't," Harry stopped me. "That's another reason we're here; it's time we put that story behind us.

– Easy for you to say…"

Either Harry did not note the sarcasm, or he decided to ignore it.

"Do you think we'd take anyone with us? Hell no! You're our kid; that's how much we trust you."

Harry simply wanted me to tag along, or at least that's how he made it sound. The truth was more complicated, but Harry stirred the conversation in a safer direction, one that I could handle and he could work with.

"Come along, kid. You might learn a thing or two.

– Harry, I don't want to break into that place; can't we just go home?

– You want to go home?" he sighed. "Are you sure?

– Yes, can we go?"

Relief washed over me as Harry appeared to relent. I wouldn't have to witness one of their burglaries after all. But clever Harry still had a card up his sleeve.

"I suppose we could go home, but what about Marv?

– What about him?"

I pretended not to understand what Harry meant, but my chest tightened as I imagined our ride back home with a pissed off Marvin. This night was supposed to fix everything, not feed his resentment.

"He's going to be really disappointed. And you did shoot him." Harry twisted the knife. "Don't you want to make it up to him?

– By robbing a cabin?" I faintly protested.

"By doing something he likes," Harry corrected me. "Marv's always going along with your games; how about returning the favour? Tonight's a good start."

I did want Marvin's forgiveness. By going along this burglary, I might get back into his good graces, but how could I go through with it? Harry and Marvin wouldn't stop at breaking into that cabin. They had come to steal.

"Marv was supposed to meet some girl in town," Harry continued when I didn't answer. "But he decided he would rather spend Halloween with you. How do you think he's going to react if we go home now? Think he'll play Nintendo with you anytime soon?"

Damn Harry for knowing just what to say to feed my insecurities!

"Come on, kid," he prompted. "I know how much you miss Marv. It wouldn't take much to make him happy."

And when Harry put it that way, it didn't sound like such a big deal. Still, I hesitated.

"Do I have to?" I whispered, looking at the cabin with dread.

"Well, if you'd rather stay in the car, that can be arranged too." Harry then said, holding up the pair of handcuffs.

That settled it.

I stepped out of the car and followed Harry, dragging my feet.

Marvin was waiting for us on the porch. He had made himself comfortable by lounging in one of the patio chairs.

"Look who's changed his mind!" Harry announced.

– All right! This is going to be fun, kid!" Marvin said, jumping to his feet, his sullenness forgotten.

I seriously doubted that, but I kept that comment to myself.

"I remember when I broke into my first house, I was about your age," Marvin confessed, as if he was sharing some heartwarming memory.

"You did this when you were my age?" I asked more to distract myself from what would follow than curiosity.

"I sure did! It was like being a spy.

– Spies don't use crowbars," I grumbled out of spite.

– How about trying the front door, then," Marvin said, stepping aside.

"Me?

– Yeah, kid; you do the honours!"

Honours isn't the word I would've used. I looked to Harry who nodded to encourage me. There was no backing down. I tried the doorknob.

"It's locked," I told them, relieved.

"Oh, well, worth the try!" Marvin said before shoving his crowbar into the doorframe.

I winced as the sound of splinted wood shattered the silence of the night. I shot a nervous look up the trail. Someone must've heard that! What if someone called the police? I find it telling that, in that moment, I was more concerned by that possibility than hopeful. Neither Harry nor Marvin seemed concerned with the noise.

"Let the party begin!" Marvin said, kicking the door open.

We couldn't see much until Marvin switched the lights on.

"What if someone sees the light?" I panicked, unwilling to step inside. "What if someone comes?

"We're in the middle of nowhere, kid. Trust me, no one's coming." Harry told me as he pushed me inside.

I wasn't sure whether that was meant to be reassuring. I took a few steps, taking-in my surroundings as Harry and Marvin spread out. Harry headed for the living room to assess the television, while Marvin took off in the kitchen.

I examined the place, trying to forget what my two guardians were doing. It was a nice cabin. Not the kind that would feature in a magazine, but a family cabin. The main room had a high ceiling and a stone fireplace. The furniture was mismatched, but made of solid wood. There were fishing magazines on the side table and a crib board with cards.

While I was intimidated at the idea of trespassing, I also found it thrilling. I understood why Marvin had compared it to spy work. I knew it was wrong, but my sense of adventure pushed me to explore.

I was brought back to reality by a ruckus coming from the kitchen. Unnerved, I followed the sound and discovered Marvin going through the cupboard with his crowbar. I was shocked to see how he didn't seem to have any qualm about sending plates and cooking utensils crashing to the floor.

"What are you doing!"

I had never seen anyone destroy anything with so little care.

"Looking for valuables.

– You're breaking everything!

– I know, right!"

I then realized that Marvin was having the time of his life.

"You like breaking things?

– Well, yeah!"

To make his point, Marvin tipped a pottery vase off the counter. It shattered on the ground as Marvin smiled wickedly.

"Give it a try, kid! When do you get to let loose?

– But…

– Nobody cares about a stupid vase! It was ugly, anyway."

Marvin was not wrong; that vase had been ugly. He dropped a teakettle to the floor before kicking it across the room.

"See? Fun!"

Marvin's childish amusement was contagious and I found myself smiling in spite of myself. He then pushed a cookie jar in the shape of a frog toward me.

"If that's not the tackiest thing ever…" Marvin tempted me. "Come on, kid. You know you wanna…"

Destroying other people's belonging was wrong. My parents would've been horrified to see me participate, but… well… it looked fun. And I was still a ten-year-old boy; a not so deep part of me wanted to smash that jar to pieces. I also knew that if I did, there would be no punishment, no consequences. I looked at Marvin, who smiled encouragingly. No consequences at all, except making everything right between Marvin and me.

I pushed the jar off the counter and it broke at my feet.

"Yeees! Tell me that wasn't fun!

– A little…" I didn't deny, though my heart was racing.

One of the frog's eyes had survived the fall. It was looking at me, bewildered by what had happened. I stepped the piece of ceramic hard, enjoying the crushing sound beneath my foot. I was rewarded by Marvin's cry of approval.

"That's the spirit!"

I smiled back and watched as Marvin returned to searching the kitchen. He opened cabinets, inspected the content of the refrigerator and top freezer. His first discovery came when he got to the drawers.

"Aha!" he said, brandished a handful of cutlery. "Look at those!"

I wasn't impressed by his find. The utensils looked tarnished with a heavy flower design.

"What's the big deal? They're dirty.

– Ah, kid; don't let looks deceive you," Marvin replied, handing me a fork.

"It's heavy!" I was surprised to find.

"That's cause it's sterling silver."

Marvin turned the fork over and showed me a mark on the bottom.

"See this? .950. That's the silver's grade. It's not the purest, but it's not bad, not bad at all for a cabin. Looks like somebody decided to give grandma's silverware a second life. Antique stores love those. We'll give them a shine and they'll fetch a nice price."

Motivated by his find, Marvin resumed his search. By the time he was done with the kitchen, he had bagged the silverware, a wooden box he told me was a coffee mill and a Coleman gas lantern he had found under the sink. I had watched him scorn the toaster, but pile green Pyrex dishes and rainbow mixing bowls on the table. Besides the silverware, his finds didn't seem that interesting.

"Marv, how do you know what to take and what not to take?

– Experience, kid. You learn what people are looking for, and what they are willing to pay to get it.

– Why would people want mixing bowls?" I asked, examining the set. "Everybody has mixing bowls.

– Oh, kid; you crack me up!" Marvin laughed. "You're just like whoever owns this cabin. You don't know the worth of things. These," he explained, "are all the rage. The yuppies go nuts for these old Pyrex sets, and don't get me started on collectors. You can make a fortune out of nostalgia."

As much as I hate to admit it, Marvin shines when it comes to burglary. He'll identify items of value that would've been overlooked by a less experienced thief. It's always interesting to see him pick a house apart.

We left the kitchen to explore a bedroom. It wasn't the master bedroom. There was a set of bunk beds and children's drawings pinned to the wall. On the dresser were dried dandelions and McDonald's Happy Meal toys. I didn't see how we would find anything interesting in here, but Marvin went straight for the dresser.

"Look under the bed, see if there are any tools," he told as he tossed old sweaters and blankets to the floor.

I obeyed, promising myself I wouldn't tell him if there were tools hidden under there. I got on my knees, lifted the quilt and almost jumped out of my skin when I came face to face with fangs set in a snarling jaw. My sudden movement did not go unnoticed.

"Spider?

– Nah, just a stupid bear…" I said, feeling stupid.

– A bear? What do you mean a bear?

– Just a stuffed polar bear."

I reached under the bed, and pulled what I thought was a plush toy. To my surprise, the head was attached to something much heavier that turned out to be a rolled up skin rug. I looked at my finding with curiosity. I had never seen a bearskin rug, let alone a polar bear.

Marvin whistled next to me, admiring my find.

"Oh my… What do we have here!"

Marvin took his gloves off and knelt next to the rug. He then ran his hands over the fur, caressing it almost lovingly.

"Jackpot! Hey, Harry! Come see what the kid found!"

Harry showed up, holding a radio, which he quickly discarded when he saw the bearskin rug.

"What the…. It's got to be a fake, right, Marv? No one would be dumb enough to let a real polar bear skin rug in a cabin!

– Nah, Harry, it's the real deal!

– Are you sure?

– Who's the expert here? Don't believe me? Look at the base, it's attached to skin, not fabric webbing."

When Harry wasn't convinced, Marvin pulled a few hairs from the rug and produced a lighter. To my surprise, Marvin used it to light the hair on fire. I wrinkled my nose as the smell of burned hair rose up around us for a brief second.

"See? Doesn't smell like plastic, does it? This is real fur."

Harry's eyes gleamed in the light at the news.

"What kind of resale value are we looking at?"

Marvin turned the skin over, examined the eyes and counted the claws.

– The skin's a little dry and there are a few cracks, but that's easy enough to fix. Bear skin rugs aren't that uncommon, but this is a polar bear.

Marvin looked at Harry with excitement.

"They stopped selling those in the US in 72! We'll get fifteen grand, easy!

– How traceable is it?

– Bearskin rugs don't come with serial numbers, so it all depends on how discreet our fence is." Marvin replied, carefully rolling the skin. "I'll call Doug. He's old school, he won't ask any questions. The old bastard will probably sell it for twice that price!"

Without any warning, Marvin drew me in a tight embrace. I was so surprised by this unexpected display of affection I drew in a sharp breath, but Marvin didn't seem to notice as he hugged me.

"I knew you'd be our lucky charm!"

He kissed the top of my head, ruffled my hair before letting go. And just like that, Marvin and I were friends again! I didn't understand it, but I was somewhat pleased. My initial regret at finding the polar bear had been replaced by a warm feeling. Marvin's wasn't angry with me anymore! In put the all the drama of the evening in perspective. I would seem Harry had been right; it didn't take much to please Marvin.

All in all, Harry and Marvin walked out of that cabin with a haul that included a television, a radio, some power tools and the kitchenware Marvin had found. Their crown achievement, however, was the polar bear skin rug. It took a lot of space in the car, but they wouldn't have left it behind.

Wisely, neither Harry not Marvin asked my help to carry their loot to the car. By the time we were ready to leave, it was well past midnight and I was tired. Before we left, however, Marvin called me:

"Hey, kid; come here a minute!

– Harry said we're leaving." I replied, stiffening a yawn.

"This won't take long."

His mischievous look was back, and although I couldn't wait to leave, I followed Marvin back to the kitchen, curious. He held some dishcloth triumphantly. I wondered why Marvin would want a rag, when I saw him use it to plug the sink. He was about to turn on the tap when I spoke up, frowning:

"What are you doing?"

But I remembered how the Murphys' basement and kitchen had been flooded. Stealing from these strangers was one thing, flooding their property was taking it too far. It was plain mean-spirited.

"It's our calling card, kid," Marvin replied.

"Calling card?

– All the great ones leave their mark. We're the Wet Bandits"

While I'll admit I had enjoyed watching Marvin smash things around, I took no pleasure in this final act of vandalism. I didn't say anything, however, afraid to lose Marvin's favour once more. Luckily, Harry appeared at my shoulder and said it all for me:

"Don't you fucking dare!" he snarled.

My instincts made me take a step back, but Harry wasn't talking to me. He marched to the sink and snapped the tap shut. He then unplugged the sing and threw the wet cloth at Marvin. It would've been funny had Harry not looked down right threatening.

"Are you out of your fucking mind? You don't ever do that again. Ever!

– Sorry, Harry. I forgot... Old habits…" Marvin replied, sheepish.

That was the last time I ever heard Marvin suggest flooding a place.

As we drove back home that night, I wish I could say I felt guilty over the burglary. I mean, I did, but not that much. It didn't keep me up at night. Gaining Marvin's forgiveness had counterbalanced most of my guilt. And how could I feel bad for the Millers? I didn't know them. I would never meet them, whereas Marvin was right there with me.

His forgiveness meant more.

I also didn't feel too guilty because I hadn't done anything wrong. Okay, I had broken the cookie jar, but the rest was on Harry and Marvin. If it had been up to me, we would've spent the evening trick-or-treating. I was innocent, completely innocent. I didn't see how my education had only begun.

A family that sticks together stays together?

Harry meant to say a family who steals together, stays together.

AN:

Well here it is, Kevin's first introduction to burglary. I hope it was up to your expectations!

The polar bear skin rug that Kevin found was inspired by a family story. I come from a family of hunters and one of my uncles had exotic trophies in his collection, including a polar bear skin rug. Then, my uncle had the brilliant idea to take it to his isolated summerhouse. To no one's surprise, his summerhouse was broken into and the burglars stole everything of value, including the polar bear. My uncle went around pawnshops, alerted fur trade dealers, but it was never recovered. I though it would make an interesting find for Kevin's first outing.