Compositions for the Young and Old

“You’re just going to have to suck it up. There’s nothing to prepare.

Unless you want to leave your suit coat on the beach,” I said, and tried on a laugh. It didn’t fit.

“How do I know that you won’t lose me on the swim? I mean, I know it’s unlikely given your ass-size, but you could be the husky-class breaststroke champion for all I know, and ditch me in the water like I’m some date that doesn’t put out.”

“That’s not going to happen. But it might if you keep calling me fat-ass.”

“Sorry to offend, Meat. But I’m not wild about the idea of being stuck in the water with no idea of what direction is what. You’ve already turned me around enough times trying to fuck with my sense of direction.”

Okay, this guy was finally scared, finally in the right frame of mind. So I thought.

“Look, you’re a client. We’re not enemies, kid. At least not yet.”

“You don’t know that, do you?”

“What are you saying?”

“What I’m saying, what I’m talking about are the possibilities, Meat. And with this swim, there’s a whole slew of them I haven’t had the opportunity to consider.” He ticked off his points rapid-fire, pointing and grabbing his long fingers like they were trying to jump out of his hands. “How do I know you won’t ditch me? How do I know you won’t put a bullet in my head while I’m splish-splashing around? How do I know I won’t simply panic and drown under the stress?”

“If you can’t swim, I can’t help you, asshole. But otherwise, fucking relax. I’m playing it straight.”

The guy shakes his head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. But what about you, Meat? Do you have your bases covered? Have you considered the possibilities? How do you know I’m not such a good swimmer that I could take you out, then move onto Harry. How do you know I didn’t slip a weapon past the checkpoints? How do you know I’m not here on Harry’s behalf, to take your place, to sink that stone who knows too much?”

I knew the guy was stalling, but I have to admit, he had my head in a mess.

I said, “I don’t waste my time with possibilities. I worry about something when it’s moved to probable.”

“Here’s some advice, Meat: A man in your line of work gets hurt when they think only in probabilities.”

My father once told me any man that can talk you into eating a pile of shit is as trustworthy as a kiddie-diddler on a Boy Scout camping trip.

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