Chapter 9: A New Scheme
Winter faded almost imperceptibly into spring. But with the rising temperature came a different set of dangers. Once people were no longer just trying to stay warm, they started looking for thrills. The streets filled with dangerous men once again. And instead of dodging angry cashiers and run-of-the-mill muggers, they were dodging career criminals.
In addition, Jason had reached an awkward age where he was too old to get away with some of the tricks Harry pulled—like the fake crying—but too young to do the difficult jobs everyone was asking for. And that left them with few options.
It was also a time of year without school breaks, so school-age kids running around on the streets during school hours drew unwanted attention. And young kids running around at night was no better. They managed to get by with pick-pocketing and rummaging around in the dumpsters behind restaurants and grocery stores after dark, but that only got them so far.
So they had to look to alternate ways to secure funds and/or food. In late March, Jason came back from meeting with the person who kept giving him stuff in exchange for favors with a new solution: car jacking.
Jason tried to make Harry stay behind at first, but by now Harry had more than proved himself competent, and he refused to separated from Jason longer than necessary anymore. So Harry insisted on coming.
Knowing he couldn't win against Harry's stubbornness, Jason finally conceded. First, they spent afternoons for nearly two weeks straight in the library—one of few places that wouldn't question young kids hanging out more or less unsupervised on a school day—reading books and looking up videos on the internet in order to learn all about types of cars, how much parts were valued based on type and brand, and how to dismantle them with scavenged tools. Then they took a field trip to a junk yard on a warmer afternoon to practice.
Harry's smaller size soon proved to be a major drawback in this venture, though. The few times they were able to pop a hood, Harry could unscrew things, and his smaller hands could access hard-to-reach parts that could still draw revenue. But popping a hood without access to the release inside the car was nearly impossible, so Harry was reluctantly relegated to lookout with rare exceptions. They both learned that the quickest and easiest thing to steal were tires. And Harry had neither strength nor weight on his side, so it was incredibly difficult and time-consuming for him to remove even a single tire by himself. Jason, at four inches taller and at least a hands' breadth wider, had a much easier time.
After three days in the junkyard practicing, Jason managed to get his time down to ten minutes for all four tires. And they both learned to break into and hotwire a car. And for the first time, they both had actual weapons. Jason found a tire iron in the junkyard that was both a tool and an effective blunt-force weapon. Harry found a piece of pipe about the size of a baton, with a jagged break on one end. They also found a bent wire hanger they could use to break into a vehicle. Harry kept it concealed inside the baton, the bent wire creating enough resistance that it stayed put on its own.
So armed with steel and knowledge, the first week of April saw the debut of the Car Hawks, which term Harry had coined with so much childish innocence (and no idea of the entirely apt pun inherent in the name) that Jason had to adopt it.
Not many vehicles were left unattended in Crime Alley, so they had to venture out further than usual, and scope out numerous hiding spots they could stash their loot until they were able to sell it or in case they needed to make a quick getaway.
Their first victim was a Mustang, parked around the corner from a laundromat. Harry, being smaller and quicker, quickly cased the area for the owner. It was theoretically best to watch the car pull up and then watch the owner walk away, but beggers couldn't be choosers—literally in this case. Seeing no one, he sent the signal to Jason to start: a trilling whistle approximating a robin's call. He'd wanted to do a hawk cry, but Jason had pointed out that hawks were too uncommon in Gotham and someone would figure it out. So Harry stuck with the robin's call. He did think it was funny and ironic. Jason had rolled his eyes and let Harry do as he wished. (Tim had been thrilled. Though Harry hadn't told him why he'd learned it or what they were doing; they were legitimate criminals now, or would be once they started, and Harry didn't want Tim to abandon him for it.)
His heart thudding in his chest as Jason returned the whistle with one of his own in acknowledgement, Harry picked a spot where he could see Jason as well as most of the alleyway, including its entrance, and melted into the shadows, his eyes trained for any sign of movement, his ears pricked for the sound of approaching footsteps.
A light thud indicated Jason had gotten the first tire off. Harry wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, taking a deep breath and looking all the more carefully around the darkening alley.
A few minutes later, there was another light thud. Harry took the cue and slipped in, then took each tire and rolled them behind the dumpster one at a time while Jason started on the third.
Just as Harry stashed the second one, he heard footsteps. Harry sent a shrill but quiet whistle in warning. There was a soft thud, then Jason rounded the dumpster rolling the third tire, just as a figure rounded the corner of the alley.
Neither of them moved, well concealed by the dumpster and the growing shadows. There was a loud noise of exclamation, then a series of curses. Harry pressed his back into the alley wall, scarcely daring to breathe. Jason gripped his hand tightly, and Harry squeezed back, feeling grease and grit on Jason's hand and not caring.
The angry shouting continued, then slowly faded as the car owner rounded the corner again. Neither Harry nor Jason moved until the angry voice had completely faded. Then Harry turned toward Jason, looking up as Jason turned toward him, too. Their gazes met, then, slowly, matching triumphant grins spread across their faces, then Harry burst into stifled giggles.
"We did it. We did it," he whispered.
"Job's only half-done, little hawk," Jason replied. "Let's get the tires to our hiding place."
Harry nodded, and together they rolled the tires down the alley, then down another side alley, then stashed them beside another dumpster a perpendicular block away from where they'd left the car. (If it was still there when they got back, maybe they could break in and scavenge the parts.)
It was hard work, rolling the tires even that short distance. Harry had never realized tires were so heavy. But they managed.
"Can you watch the tires for a bit? Twenty minutes, tops."
Harry nodded. "Help me stack them?"
Jason titled his head in confusion, then shrugged and did so.
Once all three tires were stacked and pushed against the alley wall, Harry hopped on top, grinning. "No one's getting them without going through me." He pulled his pipe out of his shirt, tapping it across his palm in a threatening manner.
Well, Harry thought it was threatening. Jason just laughed, then ruffled Harry's hair.
"Very intimidating, little hero. You'll scare any would-be thieves right out of their pants."
Harry scowled. "I'm not stupid. You're pat-pitron-patronizing me."
Jason grinned. "Good job, little hawk. We learned that word the other day."
Harry nodded. "So don't do it."
Jason huffed a laugh. "Sorry, little hawk. You're just too cute." Jason ruffled his hair again.
Harry squawked and pushed him off. "Go! Bring back money! I want ice cream."
Jason laughed again. "You got it. Maybe we can finally cash in that free shake at Batburger."
Harry nodded eagerly, then poked Jason with the blunt end of his pipe. "Get going. You're a businessman now."
"Yeah, I guess I am. Hold down the fort, little hero. I'll be back."
Harry waved, then Jason left.
While he was gone, Harry amused himself by kicking his heels off the rubber tires and tracing shapes in grease on the side of the dumpster. He kept his ears pricked for footsteps or voices indicating he wasn't alone. He also listened for sirens, in case the theft was reported and investigated. But the alley remained silent, until, not quite twenty minutes later, Harry heard voices at the head of the alley.
"Before I take you any further, I want to see the money."
That was Jason, deepening his voice to sound more intimidating. Harry imagined him crossing his arms, giving whoever he was talking to the same stern look he gave Harry whenever Harry tried to pass his portion of food on to Jason. (It had been worth a try, at least. But he'd screwed himself over by passing out one too many times.)
"One-fifty in tens and twenties, as promised." It was a man, Harry decided. Probably mid-twenties? Maybe early thirties? His voice wasn't gravely like middle-aged smokers, nor slurred by drugs. So probably legit. Harry wondered if this was Jason's contact who had gotten them the camp stove before.
"It's a Mustang. Three tires, minimal wear, and some damn fancy hubcaps. Two hundred at least."
"Once I see the tires, you can haggle up, kid. I ain't got time for any o' yer damn posturing."
"Show me the money."
There was a brief moment of silence, then what might have been a sigh.
"Okay, then. This way."
Harry then heard two sets of footsteps approaching. One set was Jason's; Harry recognized them in an instant. The other set was heavier, but not too heavy, like a lean middle-aged man.
Once they were close, Harry hopped off his tire tower and stood to the side, crossing his arms and placing his feet shoulder-width apart, like he'd noticed men did when they wanted to look tough.
A minute later, Jason came into view, followed by a young-ish man with shaggy hair covered with a grey bandanna, wearing a worn leather jacket, skinny black jeans, and heavy boots.
"So this is your little assistant." The man gave Harry a once-over. "Scrappy little thing, but he looks useful."
"He's not for sale," Jason said firmly. "The tires are."
The man smiled faintly. "Wasn't tryin' to buy him or nothin'. I don't get into that sphere. Too messy. Too much attention."
Harry filed away his questions about selling people (wasn't that slavery? And wasn't that super illegal?) and scowled lightly. But he didn't say anything.
The man gave him another glance, then turned his attention to the tires. He examined them for a good five minutes, checking the treads, the hubcaps, and nodding at the handful of lug nuts Jason held out.
Finally, the man straightened up with a thoughtful noise. "I admit, I didn't expec' much for yer first score. You win, kid. Two hundred even. I look forward to continuin' this partnership."
He handed over a stack of bills—more than Harry had ever seen in his life—then waved them off while dialing a number on his cell phone.
Jason grinned at Harry, then beckoned and they hurried away. Once they were in another alley, Jason split the cash between himself, Harry, and both of their ever-present backpacks. Then Harry bounced on his toes.
"Batburger? Please?"
Jason laughed and ruffled Harry's hair. "You got it. We can treat ourselves today. Then we'll have to figure out what to do with all that cash."
Harry laughed happily and grabbed Jason's hand, tugging him along. Within five steps, he was skipping. Jason was grinning at his antics, letting Harry swing their hands back and forth with enthusiasm.
Fifteen minutes later, just as the light was dying, they reached the nearest Batburger. Once or twice, way back when he'd first started out, Harry had raided the dumpsters and trash of this place, but he'd never had a fresh burger before. Outside the door, they did their best to wipe grease off their hands and straighten themselves up a little. Then Jason took Harry's hand again and they went inside.
Harry inhaled deeply. The restaurant smelled like oil and grease and he loved it. They walked up to the counter, and Harry bounced on his toes excitedly as Jason scanned the menu and placed their order.
"Two Batburger meals and one kids' nugget meal, with two large cokes."
"And a shake!" Harry added, pulling the (crumpled) punch card out of his pocket and handing it over. He'd taken to carrying it around as a sort of good luck charm once he and Jason had both recovered from almost two weeks of near-starvation.
"And a shake," Jason added, grinning. "Vanilla."
"Got it." The bored cashier punched it in and the total sprung up. "Fifteen dollars, fifty-two cents is your total. And here's a new punch card." He took the crumpled one from Harry, then punched out three meals on a new one and passed it over. Harry reverently took it and slid it into his pocket. Jason handed over a crisp twenty, though neither of them were quite able to hide the cringe at the total cost.
The cashier handed over their change, then passed over two empty cups. "Self-serve machine is over there." He gestured vaguely, then called for the next customer.
"Self-serve?" Harry asked in awe.
"Saves them time, I guess." Jason stuffed their change and the receipt into his pocket, then led the way to the machine. They filled their cups all the way up with brown, bubbly soda. Then they took turns in the bathroom washing their hands while the other held the drinks.
Harry took his drink back just as their order number was called. Grinning again, Harry led the way to the counter, then carefully balanced the drink on his tray and carried it to the table, with Jason behind him.
"Don't over-eat. We're doing better than we were, but no sense in getting sick," Jason warned Harry as he stuffed four fries into his mouth at once.
Harry choked, chewed, then swallowed. "I know! But it just smells so good."
"It sure does. Open the kids' meal. They usually come with a toy."
Eyes wide, Harry did so immediately. He stuffed a nugget into his mouth as he pulled out a plastic package. He tore the wrapper off and laughed in delight at the Robin figure that fell out.
"I'm giving this to Tim," he declared.
Jason grinned. "You do that. I bet he'll love it."
Harry nodded, then went back to eating. He tried to take it slow. He really did. But everything was so good that he couldn't help himself. And then he tried the shake and he had never tasted anything so good.
In no time at all, their trays were empty save the burger wrappers and empty fry containers. Harry slurped the last of his drink, then sighed in contentment.
"I might get sick later," he stated. "But it was so worth it."
Jason grinned. "I hear you, little hawk. Come on. Get your Robin figure. Let's go see Tim tonight before heading back."
Harry nodded eagerly and took Jason's offered hand. Then they left the restaurant, stomachs full, pockets stuffed with cash, and smiles on their faces.