"My heart is like an open highway
Like Frankie said,
I did it my way.
I just wanna' live while I'm alive.
It's my life."
"It's My Life"
Bon Jovi
His back was turned.
That was good.
Even better was the slight bulge in his back pocket, the telltale sign of a well-stocked wallet.
She never knew what possessed her to pick that particular pocket, or why his dark blue hair and lean form had caught her eye. Perhaps if she had seen his face, she would have thought twice about sneaking up behind him and slipping her thumb and forefinger into his pocket, easing his wallet slowly out while he talked affably to the street vender. A large, brown cowboy hat hid his face from her – all she could see from her side-view vantage was a straight, firm jaw, a thick, dark blue sideburn, and a crooked smile.
Certainly nothing remarkable about that. Just another average Joe sauntering down the crammed street, enjoying a pleasant, late Saturday afternoon.
In mere seconds, she'd have wriggled his wallet free. In mere seconds, she'd have been dashing into the safe anonymity of the crowds. She almost got away with it – but then Shirley's higher being intervened.
So intent was she on freeing his wallet without him knowing, that she failed to notice when he reached behind him, his hand aimed for his back pocket. But instead of his wallet, his fingers came in contact with the soft skin of her arm. Both reacted instantly – he was supposed to feel skin when reaching for his wallet and she wasn't supposed to feel his fingertips brush against the little hairs on her arm.
"What the hell?" he roared, whirling around with surprising agility.
But she wasn't going down without a fight. At that very instant, she jerked her hand away, carrying his wallet tightly within her grasp. She had her prize – now all that was left to be seen to was a successful escape.
"Why you little –" he reached toward her, intending to grab hold of her arm, but she leapt sprightly out of the way, swinging out for all she was worth.
Her fist connected sharply with the side of his jaw with a rather satisfying "smack."
Three things happened simultaneously.
First, his had was driven back sharply with the force of her blow, eliciting a grunt of pain. Next, his hat fell off and her eyes widened with fear and surprise. Finally, her punch caught him so completely unawares, that he fell to the ground in a startled heap, accompanied with a muffled oath.
Oh, shit! Now I've done it! She panicked, her eyes widening with horrified recognition.
There was no time to think; time stood still and she acted on instinct. Whirling around, taking advantage of the spare seconds, the girl sprinted off down the street – and right into two pairs of waiting arms.
"Hey, Boss! You okay?" one of the girl's captors – a tall young woman with dark brown hair and glasses – held onto her squirming quarry's arm for all she was worth. "And you…stop it now or I'll rattle some sense into ya'!"
"No need to do that, Bunny," Chibodee scolded her, slowly picking himself off of the sidewalk, rubbing his jaw as he stared thoughtfully at the would-be pickpocket.
"Mr. Crocket! Do you want me to call the police?" the scandalized vender scowled at Cath and Bunny's frightened captive.
"Naw," Chibodee waved his hand, still eyeing the young girl. "You pack quite a punch, little lady," he addressed her for the first time.
"Look! I'm sorry," the girl finally found enough courage to squeak. "I-I-I didn't know you-you were…Chibodee Crocket…"
"You can let her go, girls," Chibodee ordered, stepping up directly in front of the girl. "You won't run off now, will you?" he demanded kindly, placing his hand beneath her chin and forcing her to look up at him.
"N-n-no," she gasped, shaking her head as best she could, considering that her jaw was locked in Chibodee's firm grip.
"Let go of her Cath, Bunny," Chibodee frowned at them both and they complied, albeit a bit grudgingly. "Now – could I have my wallet back?"
"Yes," the boxing champion left go of her chin and she thrust his stolen property promptly into his hands.
"You're not just going to let her get off?" Bunny cried. "Not that easily!"
"Who said I was 'letting her off'?" Chibodee turned toward his assistant, raising a blue eyebrow.
Oh, gods! I've really done it this time! He's going to throw me in jail – I just know it! How could I have been so stupid?
"You're the first person in years to knock me down with a single blow," Chibodee crossed his arms and gazed down at the offender.
"I…you…um…"
I'm at a complete loss for words. Geez! I must sound like a real idiot.
"You've got spunk. I admire that," Chibodee continued, seemingly oblivious to the girl's sudden speech impediment. "What's your name, kid?"
"Uh…Max."
"'Max' what?"
"M-Max-Max…Adrian," the girl shifted uncomfortably, risking a glance at Bunny and Cath, who still flanked her.
"Max, huh? I like that," Chibodee's face suddenly brightened in a smile and he clapped his hand congenially on the girl's shoulder. "How'd you like to come work for me?"
"What?!" Cath and Bunny cried in unison; Max simply gaped at Chibodee in blank astonishment.
"Don't pass judgment, girls," Chibodee frowned slightly at the two. "Wasn't too long ago when we were all street rats like Max here," he paused and gave her that special smile once again.
"Do you really mean that, Mr. Crocket?" Max finally whispered, barely daring to believe. "You'd let me work for you? After what I did?"
I can't believe this is happening! This must be a dream – Chibodee Crocket didn't just ask me to work for him. He couldn't have!
"I've done worse, kid," the fighter's face darkened briefly. "Believe me. And anyway, you've gotta' have guts to do what you just did."
"But I didn't know it was you," Max hung her head and stared at her scuffed tennis shoes.
"You think picking pockets is easy?" Chibodee chuckled wryly. "I've done it, kid – it's about the stupidest thing you can do, but it also takes a hell of a lot of gall. So…what'll it be? You wanna' work for me, Max Adrian?"
Don't be an idiot, Max! This must be your lucky day. Take it! Take the chance – whatever he wants you to do has to be better than sleeping in a cardboard box.
"I-I'd like that a lot," Max finally looked up from the cement. "If that's all right with you."
"Of course it's all right with me," Chibodee grinned and clapped his arm around Max's thin shoulders. "Or I wouldn't have offered you the job."
He suddenly turned and seemed to really notice Cath and Bunny for the first time.
"Lucky thin you girls were walking down this way. I could have lost this gutsy little fighter and my wallet," he grinned cheekily.
Did he just call me a 'fighter'? Does he always pick stray waifs up off of the streets and offer them jobs? What does he see in me anyway?
"Now, ladies, let's go home, shall we?" Chibodee wrapped his arm around Bunny and winked at Cath. "Janet and Shirley are sure to have somethin' good cookin' and then we can all talk."
"Talk?" Cath ventured nervously and almost self-consciously moved the shopping bag emblazoned with "Don's Bridal" behind her leg.
"Yep," Chibodee didn't lose his goofy smile, but there was a steely glint in his eyes. "You've got some explainin' to do – all three o' ya'!"