Small Change

Jessica
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"This is a nice city."

Josh maneuvered his car around a corner and shrugged. "I've been coming here since I was a kid. I guess I don't think about it."

"It has a waterfront."

"Murder capital of the United States."

"The Peabody Institute."

"The Orioles."

"The Great Blacks in Wax Museum."

Josh stopped for a red light and looked at Sam. "The what?"

"The Great Blacks in Wax Museum." Sam handed Josh a small flier.

"Give us free! Give us free!"

Sam laughed in spite of himself. "We're going to Hell."

"I'm a Jew. We don't believe in Hell."

"I may have to--" Sam was interrupted by a honking horn.

"Always with the honking! Look at the map. How many blocks to Broadway?"

"I thought I was, and I quote, a long-haired tourist dork for going into the welcome center."

"You were, but sometimes, your dorkiness comes in handy. This is one of those times. How many blocks?"

Sam studied the map. "Looks like two. You've been coming here since you were a kid."

"Yeah."

"Then why do you need the map?"

"I've never driven to Fells Point."

Sam unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and drained the contents. "What's in Fells Point?"

Josh smiled. "The waterfront."

* * *

Sam and Josh stepped out of The Daily Grind and sipped their coffee. "Wow."

"Do you think Donna would be willing to come down here and get me coffee every day?"

Sam squinted in the sun. "Donna's not willing to go down the hall and get you coffee."

"Good point. Do you want to sit?" Josh gestured to a small, round table on the sidewalk.

"Sure."

They sat and lapsed into silence. A golden retriever bounded up to their table, jostling their cups and spilling their coffee.

"Beau!" A woman with wild red hair and an apologetic smile approached them. "I'm so sorry."

Josh looked at her and found himself smiling, too. "No problem."

"I didn't even want to get a dog. I don't even like dogs. But Beau here's a good boy most of the time, aren't you, Beau?" She scratched behind his ears, and the dog wagged his tail. Sam extended his hand, and the dog's tongue lapped against his fingers.

"We should go." The woman secured her grip on Beau's leash and began to cross the street. "You boys have a good day, hmm?"

"She was nice."

"Why are we here?" Sam asked quietly.

Josh removed the lid from his coffee cup and began tearing at the plastic rim. "I don't know where Charles lives."

"I thought he was living with Shannon."

"He was, but somehow I don't think she'd appreciate it if I called her up and asked if she knew the whereabouts of my cokehead cousin."

Sam sipped his latte. "Where does he work?"

Josh shrugged. "Some bar."

"Well, that narrows it down. Too bad he doesn't work at a Starbucks."

Josh continued to rip small pieces from the lid. "I don't know what I'm doing here."

"It was a good day for a drive."

"Do you want to go back?"

Sam looked at Josh. "Do you?"

"I don't have a lot of family, Sam."

He looked at his watch. "Should we take a water taxi?"

"Have I made you angry in some way?"

"Water taxi or the National Aquarium. Your call."

Josh stood and put on his sunglasses. "I knew I should have brought C.J."


* * *


Sam stepped out of Jimmy's and zipped up his jacket. "The food in there is like a big plate of heart attack."

"You're the one who wanted the complete Fells Point experience."

"Crabcakes are what I wanted."

"They're out of season." Josh stepped to the curb and looked down the street. "Do you want to get a beer? I can get a little wild tonight; Leo said he can spare us until Tuesday."

Sam stopped walking. "What did you tell Leo?"

Josh looked over his shoulder at Sam. "What I told you. What I told C.J. The truth."

"What'd he say?"

"Among other things, not to get caught with cocaine in my car."

Sam nodded and caught up with Josh. "That's always good advice. Did he tell you to wear clean underwear, too?"

"No, that's what Donna told me."

"What'd he say, Josh?"

"That Charlie's not going to stop until he wants to, but I'd be a horrible person if I didn't try."

They fell quiet until Sam paused next to The Waterfront. "This looks like as good a place as we're going to find." He opened the door and stepped inside after Josh.

The bar was mostly empty. A short, balding man was standing in front of the jukebox, and they watched as he made his selections and sat down next to the same red-haired woman they'd seen that afternoon at The Daily Grind.

"Small world," Sam said, fishing in his pockets for quarters.

"I'll say. Did you call the FBI and have them track me down?"

Sam's face fell. "Why would you--"

The woman smiled. "It was a joke. Do you boys want to join us?" Before Sam and Josh could speak, she called to the bartender. "Charlie! Bring two more for my friends here."

They looked at each other, and then they looked at the bartender. Charles looked back at them.

He dried a glass and placed it on the bar. "Of all the gin joints in all the world--"

"Knock it off." Josh's voice was low.

"You boys know each other?" the woman asked.

"I believe it was John Lennon who once said, what the hell are you doing here?"

They walked to the bar. "We wanted beer," Sam offered lamely.

Josh climbed onto a stool. "So, Charlie, how much do you make a night in tips?"

Charles placed a mug in front of Sam, then looked at Josh. "You don't get any beer."

"What's your problem?"

Sam took a breath. "Hey, Ellis."

Charles continued to hold Josh's gaze. "What, Sammy?"

"Why don't we do this when your shift is over?"

"I can't wait."

Sam stood and threw a few dollars onto the bar. "We're at the Marriott on Aliceanna Street."

Charles picked up the money and handed it back to Sam. "It's on the house."


* * *


Josh paced around the hotel room, popping peanuts into his mouth. "How late do the bars close in Baltimore?"

"Probably the same time they did when you were in college." Sam sat on the foot of the bed, flipping channels. "You can't act that way when he gets here."

"What?"

"Like you did at the bar. You can't act that way when Charles gets here."

"I'm supposed to be nice to him?"

"Did you make the trip to act like a jackass?" Josh stared at him. "Listen, all I'm saying is that he's not going to listen if you come at him like that."

Josh rubbed his neck. "He's not going to listen anyway." He took a seat on the edge of the bed next to Sam and rubbed his feet along the carpet. "The TV?"

"Yeah?"

"Could we just, could it just be quiet?

Sam nodded quickly and reached for the remote. Josh waved a hand to stop him. "You can leave it. I'm going to get a soda. My throat's dry."

Sam watched Josh walk out, then leaned back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He didn't move until he heard footsteps approaching. Then he turned his head, assuming he would see Josh, and jumping when he didn't.

"Boo."

Sam stood. "I was expecting Josh."

Charles entered the room, placing a brown paper bag on the table and removing his jacket. "I wasn't."

"That, at the bar, was an accident."

"Dumb luck?"

"Something like that." Josh leaned against the doorjamb. "What's in the bag?"

"Beer."

Josh chuckled bitterly and drank from the soda in his hand.

"When did you start drinking Coke?"

"Around the time you started snorting coke."

"Are we back on this?"

Sam cleared his throat. "Hey, guys?"

Charles raised a hand. "No, I want to know. Are we back on this?"

"You came to my job."

"Excuse me?"

"You came to my job," Josh repeated. He placed his soda on the table next to the beer, closing the door as he did so. "I don't work at Bob's Big Boy, Charlie."

"I know that."

"I farmed a meeting out to Sam that day."

Charles looked at Josh. "And that's my fault how?"

"You dropped this into my lap and ran."

Charles' eyes grew wide. "You told me to leave!"

"You're a coward."

Charles rocked back on his heels and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "That's original."

"Always have been."

"No, I mean it. How insightful. Did you and writer boy here work on that one on the drive up?"

"Hey!" Sam took a step towards Charles, who glanced at him.

"You're guilty by association, Sammy."

Sam took another step forward. "You don't have any--"

"This isn't your fight," Josh said quietly.

"I'm standing in this room."

"Why don't we talk about that?" Charles shrugged and threw his hands up in the air as they looked at him. "I was having a good day. I slept in this morning, I ate a sandwich. I was having a good day."

"Did we bother you?" Sam wondered. "I'd hate to think we ruined your high."

"Sam!"

"What the hell am I doing here, Josh?"

Josh exhaled slowly. "This isn't your fight."

Sam opened his mouth to speak, then looked at Josh's face and closed it. He shook his head and scoffed, but sat on the bed and said nothing.

"What exactly is the point of this little visit?" Charles pulled a can of beer from the paper bag, and plucked the tab twice without opening it. "I shouldn't drink this."

"It's stunning to me that you care." Josh crossed his arms.

"Did you come up to make sure I was still alive?"

Josh swallowed hard. "Maybe."

"Here. Touch my arm. I'm not dead. Now go home."

Josh laughed in a loud, short burst. "You are so -- Jesus, Charles!"

"You want to say something?"

"I do."

Charles settled into the armchair and crossed his right leg over his left, resting his hands on his ankle. "Tell me."

"I don't know where to start!" Josh ran his hands through his hair. "What is wrong with you? You're thirty-six years old. Cocaine? Are you stuck in the eighties? Who the fuck does cocaine anymore?" He began pacing around the room. "You came to my job, man! You think you were having a good day? I was having a world-record excellent week. You're smart and you're good-looking and you're better than this. I don't know when you became this guy who doesn't care."

"You want to fix me."

"You want me to fix you. You wouldn't have told me if you didn't."

"You couldn't save Joanie so you're going to save me."

Josh's eyes welled with angry, unexpected tears.

"You need to go," Sam said softly. "Right now."

"Hey, now, this is just getting interesting." Charles stood and pointed a finger at Josh. "I dare you to tell me I'm wrong." Josh took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Say it. Tell me I'm wrong."

"Go to Hell, Charlie."

"We're Jews. We don't believe in Hell."

The two men stood inches apart. Sweat glistened on Josh's pale brow, and he drew uneven, raggedy breaths. Charles watched his cousin trembling, then finally stepped backwards.

"That's what I thought." Charles reached for his jacket and slipped into it. "Always nice to see you, Sammy. Enjoy your stay in Charm City." He stepped into the hall, slamming the door behind him.

Sam waited a minute before he spoke. "Josh--"

"I couldn't."

"He's a drug addict."

"He's right."

"No, Leo was right," Sam said quietly.

Josh shook his head, tossed his can of soda into the wastebasket, and reached for one of the beers his cousin had left behind.

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