Page 103 of Goose

Ally

It had been two weeks since Goose and I declared our love for one another. Life was joyous at home. At the clubhouse, it was a different story.

If there was one thing I learned to do throughout my career, it was act. So, I began to act like I enjoyed being in Cash’s company, even though it was obvious he didn’t enjoy being in mine.

Hoping to bond with the overgrown child, I sat at the clubhouse’s snack-stained sectional instead of off to the side in a hard chair. The results were often frustrating, but almost always entertaining.

For me, anyway.

Positioned between Cash and Goose on the sofa, I listen to Baker as he instructed us on our next bank job.

“Is there anything anyone feels like adding?” he asked.

“I’ve got something,” I said.

Baker nodded in my direction. “What’s that?”

“If we continue with the cheerleader thing, there’ll be enough people that eventually report it that we’ll be known as the cheerleader bandits or some ridiculous shit. It isn’t the label that bothers me, it’s the cops looking for a cheerleader while they’re on patrol. After that first report of a cheerleader at a bank is given, the next time we pull up beside a cop and I’m wearing a cheerleader outfit, we’ll get got.”

“What about waiters and waitresses,” Cash asked. “Or something like that? Act like we’re coming home from the bar?”

Baker shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

Cash slumped in his seat, obviously butt-hurt. “Why not?”

“Because most waiters in this area wear black. I liked the cheerleader thing because anyone that pulled up alongside the car would recognize the driver as being a cheerleader. If they pulled up alongside a bunch of waiters wearing black, they’d think you’d just robbed a fucking bank.”

I raised my index finger. “What about the guys wearing SDSU shirts while they’re on lookout, and when we’re done, they can take them off? We can paint their faces red and black. Underneath the shirts, they can have body paint?” I asked. “One guy with a red “S” painted on his chest, one has a black “D” another has a black “S”, and then a red “U”. I’ll paint my face half black, half red, and make my hair fire engine red? It’ll look like we just left a San Diego State University game?”

“I like it,” Baker said. “Wearing the shirt while they’re on lookout will keep people from doing a double-take. In the car, they’ll stand out enough that people passing by will notice. Let’s plan on it.”

“Just like that?” Cash huffed. “We’re painting red and black letters on our chests because she thinks it’s a good idea?”

“It is a good idea,” Baker said.

“I don’t like it,” Cash said.

Baker shot him a glare. “Why not?”

Cash sat up in his seat and shrugged. “Just don’t feel right. You don’t like red, remember?”

“I’m the rabbit. There’s no red on me. I don’t give a shit.” Baker looked at the other three men. “Anyone else got a problem with it?”

“Tell you what I got a problem with,” Reno said. “I got a problem with getting tossed in jail. I’ll paint myself pink if that’s what it takes to slip by the cops. Personally, I’m kind of pissed off we haven’t been doing shit like this all along. I’ll volunteer for the “D”.”

“I’ll take an “S”,” Tito said.

“I’ll take the other “S”,” Goose chimed.

Baker gave Cash a nod. “Looks like you’ll be the “U”, Brother.”

Cash grunted.

“I’ll plan on bringing the body paint in here. We’ll do it right before we go. Be sure and shave those chests, fellas,” I said.

“Anything else?” Baker asked.

Other than the sound of Cash mumbling and indiscernible something, no one spoke.