Reggie had been drinking again. I smelt it on his breath.
“Do you know where we even ARE right now?,” I asked him.
“Tallahassee, maybe. Tahoe?”
I rolled my eyes and finished packing up what supplies would fit in my backpack.
“See ya around, Reg,” I said and then circled towards the freeway. I knew I would never know a baseball card quite like that again.
I never did see him again, through threw a mutual acquaintance I heard that he finally made it back in time and saved all those ’52 Topps high-numbered from being dumped in the harbor. Part of me was jealous, but I was also happy he made it, and even a little proud that I had some small part in the mission.
He deserved it.
[Ok, I’m done with this dumb blog. Experiment over. Bookmark deleted. Not coming back. WordPress sucks. We’re done here. Thanks to all zero readers for not reading. LOL]