Shade

Shade

 

“I found this in the bathroom.”

Despite the unfathomable horrors that might potentially follow such a phrase, the kid behind the counter gave a polite smile. His nametag read Eric. “Oh?” He had an acne-ridden face and a mop of curly red hair that dangled in his eyes. He had an innocent, gullible air about him. Jon immediately decided he liked him.

Through the window behind Eric, Jon saw a couple walking by the gas station. He willed them to keep going, to not come in and ruin everything.

They kept going.

Jon wiped his brow and held up a pearl necklace. “It was just sitting there, in the sink.” He set it on the counter and gave it an appraising look, rubbing his jawline. “Sure looks nice,” he mumbled. “Does the store have a lost and found, or something?” He had to resist tugging at his tie. Did it make him look as fake as he felt? It was so tight, he was sure he’d have bruises.

Eric gave the necklace a disinterested glance. “Yep. It’s behind the counter.” He cleared his throat and recited in a monotone: “You can leave it here and give us your number. If no one claims it in ten business days, it’s yours.”

Jon laughed once. “Thanks, kid, but if the owner doesn’t come back for it, I sure don’t want it either.” He furrowed his eyebrows at the necklace. “Then again, it does look really expensive.” He clicked his tongue and gave a quick tilt of his head�"oh well! He set a bottle of water on the counter. Eric scanned it.

“That’ll be one-oh-four.”

Jon fished a five out of his wallet. He smiled over Eric’s shoulder, out the window, and waved. A moment later, as Eric was counting out change, the store’s phone rang.

“Excuse me,” Eric said.

“No problem.” Jon’s lips threatened to turn upward and betray him. Leave it to a teenager to ignore the flesh-and-blood person in front of him in favor of a phone.

Jon whistled as he gave the store a casual once-over. He pulled a hand out of his pockets and examined his nails. His hand was shaking, so he stuffed it right back in his pocket, glancing at Eric. The kid wasn’t even looking his way.

“Yep, we’ll still be open.” Eric paused. A familiar voice carried faintly from the phone. Eric said goodbye, hung up, and looked at Jon. “It’s your lucky day, man.”

Jon cocked an eyebrow. He’d practiced the look in the bathroom mirror. “How do you figure?”

“That guy just called about his missing pearl necklace. He said he bought it for his fiancée and is offering a two-hundred-dollar reward to whoever finds it.” He gave that simple, innocent smile again. “Pretty lucky, right?”

Jon didn’t immediately answer. He crossed his arms, gave a little hmm. Tapped his foot. Ignored the way his tie was choking him out. “Did he say how soon he’ll be here?” he finally asked.

“Yes, actually. He said he’ll be down in around twenty minutes.”

Jon sighed, pretending to look at his watch. He ran a hand through his hair. “That, uh, that doesn’t work for me. I have a job interview across town in fifteen minutes.” Jon looked at the necklace. Just as practiced, he let a surprised sort of optimism take over his expression. “Hey, buddy. Would you want to help me out with this?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well,” Jon began slowly, leaning in. “I could leave the necklace here, and we split the reward.” He frowned and mumbled, “But how would that work?” He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck. His gaze fell on the cash register. The hope was that Eric would come to the answer himself, but that would have been too convenient. “Maybe, say . . . You give me half here�"you know, one hundred dollars�"then when the guy comes and gives you the reward for the necklace, you’ll be up a hundred.”

Eric didn’t understand right away. But he gave it thought. Jon could practically hear the gears grinding against each other. Then those innocent eyes lit up. “Oh!”

“That way we both win, right?” Jon coaxed, nodding big and slow, using the full range of motion he still possessed.

Maybe subconsciously, the kid mimicked the nod. Then he frowned, conflicted. But to a child, a hundred dollars was a small fortune. Who was strong enough to resist that? “I don’t really have a hundred dollars just lying around, though . . ..”

Jon put on a thoughtful face. “I wouldn’t have had it at your age, either. But you know who just might?”

Eric just looked at him, lost.

Guiltily, almost shyly, Jon pointed down, toward the register. Eric’s eyes fell onto it. “I know,” Jon said. “You’re a good kid, I can tell just by looking at you. You’ve probably never stolen anything in your life. Have you?”

Eric gave a quick, jerky shake of his head, the motion almost birdlike.

“You wouldn’t wanna do anything wrong, anything bad. But that’s just the thing.” Jon’s hands found the counter, and he was leaning even further in, staring into the kid’s eyes. This wasn’t part of the plan, but he was so close he felt like he was going to explode. He needed this over, and he needed it now. “You’re not gonna steal a thing, you hear me? The money you give me�"that’s not the store’s money. That’s your own money. Reward money you’re kind enough to split with me because I don’t have time to wait around here. Then, when that guy comes here and makes the exchange with you, you’ll put that extra hundred right back in the register, and no one’s the wiser.”

Eric was a little frightened. He’d pulled back at some point and was gaping at Jon, eyes wide, uncertain.

Jon gave an easy smile. “Right?” He nodded again, like it was already a done deal. Though his heart felt like it would burst, he was outwardly calm as could be. Just like he’d practiced.

The kid looked at the necklace. Hesitated. “Okay,” he said sheepishly. Jon’s ears rang, and his blood turned to electricity in his veins. He almost didn’t notice as Eric popped open the register. “Uh, we don’t have any hundreds.”

“Doesn’t matter to me.” Jon twisted off the cap of the water bottle. Twisted it back on. Off. “Tens, twenties, fives.” On. “Whatever you have is fine.”

The kid nodded and counted out a handful of bills. He thrust the money at Jon, who pocketed it with his shaky hands. A bead of sweat ran down Jon’s forehead and caught on his eyelash. He wiped it off.

“Thank you, sir,” Jon said, voice sounding off even to his own ears. His heart was jackhammering, and he wanted to be gone. “Have a nice day.” Jon turned to the door right as it opened. He backed up and out of the way of a tall, broad-shouldered man in a police uniform. He had a clean-shaven face, a bulbous nose, and several chins.

The ringing intensified. It drowned out even the uproarious cry of the blood rushing past his ears. It distracted him from the way his face burned. The way he could barely breathe. “Evening, officer,” he mumbled. The only thing his mind could conjure up was the fact that he hadn’t paid for the water bottle he was holding.

The officer tipped his hat and meandered right past. He reeked of sweat. Or was that Jon? Then the man was gone, perusing an aisle, and an incredible weight lifted off Jon’s shoulders.

He paused in the doorway, glancing up. “It sure is bright in here, isn’t it?”

~

He took the money out of his pocket and stared at it. Never before had a wad of paper been so beautiful. He laughed. It started as a slow, dry chuckle but evolved into an almost maniacal cackle. His legs gave out and he fell to his knees. Pebbles and bits of loose asphalt dug into his legs, but he didn’t care. The laughing fit died out, and he sat back against the wall, wiping tears from his eyes.

Footsteps. They were approaching him. His body went rigid. He shoved the money back in his pocket, but he kept his hand on it, knowing he would somehow lose it the instant he let go�"that it would vanish the very moment he let his guard down, just like everything else in his life. The steps grew closer and closer. A shadow peaked out from around the corner. It would be the chubby officer from the gas station, he just knew it. The cop was about to walk into the alley, brandishing handcuffs and scowling. Why had Jon let himself be talked into this? He was just as gullible as the kid he’d scammed, just as naïve. He should have been a good boy and gone straight home.

A tall young man walked around the corner, and the relief was almost enough to make Jon cry. The man’s dirty blond hair poked out from under his beanie. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. He inclined his chin. “How’d it go?” Austin asked.

Jon gave a little shrug, looked off to the side, and pulled out the wad of bills. When Austin laughed, a twisted smile took over Jon’s lips.

“God, Austin,” he said. “I can’t believe it was so simple!” With effort, he loosened his tie. It didn’t feel as good as he’d expected.

Austin grabbed Jon by his shoulders and hoisted him to his feet. “What’d I say? I knew you had it in you.” He clapped Jon on the back. “How much you get ‘em for?”

“A hundred, just like you told me to do.” He shook the bottle of water. “Stole this, too. I didn’t even mean to, it just kinda happened.” He could see himself in Austin’s sunglasses. Was the image distorted, or did Jon really look that sweaty and nervous? That weaselly? He hoped he did; this sort of thing shouldn’t be easy.

“No kiddin?” Austin asked. “Not too shabby, Mister Arnette, not too shabby.” He cleared his throat. “I hate to do this to you, but you know how it goes. Cost of merchandise, and distribution, and all that.” He held out his hand, palm up.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jon said, chuckling as he separated half the money. He tried slapping it into Austin’s hand, but Austin pulled back his arm at the last second.

“Actually, dude, I’ll give you a break. This time.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “Really? You, passing up on an opportunity to get money?” He sniffed. “You’ve changed.”

Austin shrugged. “What can I say? Call me sentimental, but until last week, I hadn’t seen you since high school. I wouldn’t feel right takin your money for a knockoff necklace.” His face hardened. “Just don’t get used to it, bub.” He jabbed a finger into Jon’s collar.

Jon couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank you.” He would have said more, but he just processed something Austin said.

Knockoff necklace.

What was Eric doing? What was he thinking, what was he feeling? Any minute now, a man was supposed to walk into that gas station and make the kid a hundred dollars richer. When that didn’t happen, the store would be out money, and Eric would be paying for it, one way or another.

Jon shook his head to clear it. “Anyway. Should I swing by your new place later?”

“What for?”

“To give you back these clothes.” He tugged at the collar of his blazer.

Austin smirked. “They helped you get in character, didn’t they? Help you sell the deal? Nah. Keep em, man. You keep hangin around me, you’ll need em again. Besides, the clothes you already have aren’t exactly in pristine condition. You could use some new threads.”

“Aren’t you in a giving mood.” Jon glanced at his watch. Instead of the digital numbers, he saw Eric’s pimply face. “I guess I'll just get going, then.”

“Wait.” Austin raised an eyebrow. “Actually, there’s something you and your fancy new clothes could help me with right now.” He pushed his sunglasses up on his forehead and looked at the sky. “Still got a little daylight left . . ..”

Jon studied Austin’s face. He wasn’t kidding. “Um, no, Austin, I told you. I’m only doing this one time. It’s not right, stealing from people like this.”

Stealing Austin mouthed, shaking his head. “If you say so.” He grabbed Jon’s wrist and held it to his face so he could see the watch. He wiggled his eyebrows, and the sunglasses fell back into place. He released Jon and turned around. “Well, I’ll be seeing ya. And tell your hottie of a sister not to be so rough next time.”

Jon watched until he left, then re-pocketed the money. The bills seemed to weigh a ton as he walked over to a dumpster. He got on his hands and knees, reached underneath, and pulled out a plastic bag. He checked inside to confirm no street urchins had stolen his clothes, then stood. He looked at his watch himself�"actually looked at it for the first time in hours�"and did a doubletake. A groan escaped his lips.

He was already a half hour late. Might as well make another stop on the way home.

~

The stairs creaked as Jon climbed to floor three. The sound was accusing, somehow. If he didn’t know better, he’d say the stairs were scolding him. Like an old woman pointing a crooked finger and saying Shame with each step. Shame, shame, shame. He stopped. Really, he thought. Stairs? He was letting the stairs make him feel bad? He’d done what he had to do, and he didn’t care what anyone or anything thought, no matter how well-carpeted they might be.

At the top of the stairwell, he turned right and walked until he reached apartment 306. He glanced down at himself, checking for the thousandth time that he’d remembered to change into his regular clothes. Julia would get suspicious if she saw him in anything not ripped in a thousand places. The blazer and slacks were hidden away in one of the three plastic bags he held. Once everyone saw what was in the other two, they would be too distracted to ask about the third.

He took a breath to steady himself and gave a shave-and-a-haircut knock. He heard a chair slide against the floor, followed by footsteps. The door opened, and Jon’s twin sister Julia stood in the doorframe. As always, it was dim inside, making her bright blue eyes stand out. Her dark hair flowed over her shoulders, framing her face and giving it the impression of emerging from the void.

She smiled, relieved. It was a sweet sight, but it quickly morphed into a scowl. “Why are you so late? We were starting to worry.” She noticed the plastic bags. “What’s in those?”

“Sorry, I lost track of time.”

Jon stepped past her and inside. Around the kitchen table, his three younger siblings were playing with cards. They sat clockwise, from oldest to youngest: his brother Sammy and sisters Lilly and Jess, with a fourth spot set up to Sammy’s right. They all looked up when he entered.

“Hey, kids, I’m hooome!” Jon called, as he did every time he entered the apartment.

Lilly pretended not to hear him, suddenly very interested in her cards. Sammy waved. Jess jumped off her chair and ran to him, tackling his waist in a bear hug. He mussed up her hair. He missed when the others cared about him this much.

“Miss me, rugrat?” he asked.

She looked up at him, her wispy blonde bangs dangling in front of her eyes. “Yeah. Why were you gone so long?”

“Sorry. I had to work later than I anticipated.”

Her mouth fell open, forming a small O. “What’s ant-is-uh-paited?”

“It means he was doing something he shouldn’t have been,” Julia called, the door scraping on the floor as she pushed it shut. At the table, Lilly bit her lips to keep from smiling.

Jon tightened his right hand into a fist, then unclenched it and stretched his fingers. He wished he’d kept that water bottle; he needed to fidget with something.

“Don’t listen to her,” he told Jess. “Your sister’s trying to brainwash you.”

He freed himself from Jess’s death grip and went to the table, Jess following at his heels. He stood between Sam and Lilly, observing the cards.

“Who’s winning?”

“Lilly,” Jess said, “but she’s cheating.” She looked at her sister and blew her a raspberry. Lilly squinted back, her eyes green slits.

Jon bumped Lilly’s shoulder to no response. “What?” he said. “That’s not cool.”

“Watch this,” Jess said. “Hey, Lilly, have any sevens?”

“No.”

“She’s lying.”

With exaggerated motions, Jon craned his neck, looking over Lilly’s shoulder. He had to strain his eyes to make out the details on her cards. “Hey, she is cheating,” he fibbed.

Lilly threw her cards on the table and stomped off to the couch. Jon looked at Sam. “Man,” he stage-whispered, “who knew ten-year-olds could be such babies?”

“I can still hear you!” Lilly called. “And I’m eleven!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he said. “Now come back here. I have a late present for you, birthday girl.”

Lilly peeked over the back of the couch.

Jon set two of the bags on the table, making it wobble on its flimsy legs. “Well, it’s for all of you, actually. I know you guys haven’t exactly been putting on weight lately. So I’ve been saving my pennies to get this stuff.” He gestured grandly with his free hand. “Go crazy, kids.”

He walked off to the side, near Julia, and watched. Jess hastily shoved the cards to one corner of the table, then the kids pillaged the bags for the boxes of cereal and granola bars and juice boxes.

“Did Johnson come by today?” he whispered to Julia.

She nodded stiffly. “He says tomorrow’s as long as he’ll wait. Then we’re out.” She worked her jaw.

Jon chewed on his bottom lip, seeing figures dancing in front of him. He sighed. “That’s fine. Today’s payday. Got just enough to cover rent.”

Julia gave him a look that he pretended not to notice.

Jess opened a box of cereal and tried shoving her whole hand in, but Sam caught her eye and shook his head. Jess stuck out her tongue but went to the cupboard for a bowl.

“Atta boy,” Jon said under his breath, smiling.

“Hey, kids,” Julia called out. “Time for bed.”

Jon took a half step away from her.

In unison, all three kids turned and stared at Julia. Then they glared at each other, having a silent battle. As Sam was the worst at giving dirty looks, he had to be the one to speak up.

“But it’s only eight,” he said.

“I know. Just turn in early tonight, okay?”

“But . . . we just got food,” Sammy ventured.

“It’ll be there tomorrow.”

Another pause. With a sigh, Sammy stood and walked toward his room. The girls followed his lead. Julia watched as they rounded the corner. The moment they were out of sight, she whipped around and slapped Jon’s arm.

“Where were you?” she yell-whispered.

“Ow.” He rubbed where she’d struck him. “I told you: I was working late. What’s the big deal?”

She crossed her arms. “Working, huh? So you were at the supermarket all day?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Uh-huh. What’s in the other bag?”

“Nothing important.” He swallowed. “Uh, look, it’s been a long day. I just want to relax for a while.”

Avoiding her eyes, he took a seat on the couch and ran a hand over his face. The furniture was so old, it offered no support. Jon adjusted his weight, feeling places where the wooden frame was loose. He set the bag on the floor between his feet.

“Jon. I called.” Julia walked over and stood in front of him.

“You called,” he repeated. He had to look up at her. He hated when she did things like this. She wasn’t taller than he was anymore�"hadn't been since they were thirteen�"but she still took every chance to make him look up at her. “You called. And I’m supposed to know what that means.”

“The supermarket.” She studied Jon’s face. The lights flickered. She cast an annoyed glance upwards. “You were gone for so long, I called to check on you. They said you left at five, just like every day. That was three hours ago.” She walked closer, making him crane his neck. “Where were you?”

“I don’t know who you called, but they don’t know what they’re . . ..” He trailed off, wilting under her gaze. He looked at the floor. His mouth moved, trying to find the words his brain couldn’t. He clenched and unclenched his fists, digging his nails into his skin each time. Finally, he sighed. “You remember the other day, when Austin came over?”

“You mean when he showed up out of nowhere and wanted you to do that stupid con job and I threw him out? Yeah, I think I remember that.” She watched him for a few seconds. “You did it, didn’t you?”

Jon scratched the back of his neck.

“I can’t believe it,” she said, sounding like she believed it just fine. Almost like she’d been expecting it. Just like her to put no trust in him at all. Jon himself hadn’t even considered the con until this afternoon when Austin approached him again and talked him into it. “After all the fuss I made, you just go behind my back and do it anyway. You�"”

Jon held up his hand. “I know. But I had to. My job doesn’t pay all that much, and the kids need to eat.”

“They need you!” Her voice escaped her, turning into a proper yell. She glanced toward the hallway, toward the bedrooms. In a lower voice: “Do you have any idea how much trouble you would be in if you got caught?”

“Well, I didn’t get c�"”

“What if you get thrown in jail? What happens to the kids then?”

Jon clenched his jaw. He tightened his fists. Open, close. This was all so easy for her to say. She wasn’t the man of the house. She didn’t have to live up to the legacy of a dead man, a father glorified to perfection by memory. She could be as melodramatic as she wanted. Open, close. His right hand prickled, and something wet his fingertips. He opened his mouth to talk.

“Julia?” a soft voice called.

Standing at the edge of the room, holding her hands to her chest, was Jess. She looked back and forth between her older siblings, eyes wide.

“Can you tuck me in?” she asked in a small voice.

Wordlessly, Julia stood and went to Jess. She put an arm around her shoulders and guided her to the girls’ bedroom. Jess glanced back at Jon, with those big, innocent, blue eyes. The same eyes Julia and Jon had. The same eyes that Mom had. Jon loved Sam and Lilly dearly, just as much as his full siblings. But he never felt pain like this when they looked at him in just the wrong way.

Now alone, Jon slouched and rubbed his eyes. The lights flickered, and he looked up. A month ago, two bulbs had burned out in the living room, and the final bulb in the fixture was on its last legs. He always said he would change them out, but he never did. He could never scrounge up enough change. There was always food to buy, or ratty shoes to replace, or rent to pay. On the rare days he did have a spare dollar, he put it in the jar on top of the fridge. He called it the Rainy-Day Jar. If he didn’t get new bulbs soon, though, they would be living in darkness. Then they wouldn’t be able to see the rain, but they’d get soaked just the same.

He sat taller and looked around at the apartment. Details to which he’d long grown accustomed now caught his eye. The wallpaper was horribly faded and ripped. The furniture was worn and had holes. The rickety kitchen table bowed under the weight of the uneaten food.

Finally, his gaze fell to the bag by his feet. Even after seven years apart, it was like nothing had changed between him and Austin. Talking with him was as easy as ever, and Austin had seemed to think nothing of giving Jon these opportunities. It had been one thing when they’d been teenagers, nicking things from the teachers’ lounge or rigging vending machines to give them stuff for free. Nothing had consequences back then. They’d just been kids.

Kids without responsibilities.

The floorboards creaked. Julia walked out of the hallway and sat next to him on the couch. He watched her intently.

“It’s not just for them,” he said, so quietly even he couldn’t hear himself.

“What?”

“It’s not just for them.” He shifted so he was facing her. “The kids. I didn’t do it just for them. I did it for you, too. And for me. For all of us. The family.”

Her posture relaxed. She rested her head on his shoulder. Her body heat radiated onto him. It was a comforting feeling, reminding him of when they were young and inseparable. Before they’d had to grow up.

“I just don’t want anything to happen,” she said. “For this family to work, we all need to be together. It took years for things to get back to normal after Dad, and even longer after Dean left us. And now�"Mom.” Her voice caught on the last word. She coughed. “The kids can’t handle anything else happening.”

Jon took a breath, held it for a few seconds, and exhaled. “I know.”

“They’re children, they shouldn’t even have to think about these kinds of things. They should just be worried about having fun.”

He faced forward. “I know.”

They sat in silence. The never-ending sounds of traffic pierced the thin walls. A siren blared, gradually growing louder. Maybe some cop was out there chasing a criminal. A thief, perhaps.

“Don’t do it again.” Julia’s breath was hot against his neck.

Jon didn’t respond. The siren faded.

“Please, don’t. It’s just not worth it.”

Slowly, finally, Jon nodded. “I won’t.”

“Good.”

For close to a minute, neither of them moved a muscle or said a word. They were content to just sit in each other’s company. Eventually, something occurred to Jon.

“Hey, how did you call the supermarket?”

Julia’s lips twitched. “Hmm?”

“The phone hasn’t been working for a week. How did you call?”

A smirk tugged at her lips. “Gotcha.”

Jon smiled despite himself. His face felt warm. He looked up, at the single remaining bulb. It was so dim it didn’t even hurt his eyes.

The light flickered twice and died.

Reviews

[Great Aunt Astri]

I enjoyed reading this story , vivid description and details. I kept anticipating something terrible was going to happen, and I was quite relieved at your satisfactory ending. (one thing I'm not quite clear about, Jon and Jess were brother and sister, weren't they? Dean must have been the husband?) Anyway, apart from getting a little confused with names, I thought it was a good story, which put the spot light on some of the things that go on (out of necessity, usually!), in parts of our society.

[Jacob Clifford]

If you mean Jon and Julia, yes, they're bother and sister. They're twins. I know there wasn't a whole lot of detail explaining things, but Dean is supposed to be the mother's boyfriend or a sort of step father.

What a lot of people are quick to do is judge those who do illegal things. Some lawbreakers are just plain, rotten, sure, but many have legitimate reasons behind why they do what they do. Thank you for reading and leaving your thoughts.

[Great Aunt Astri]

Yes, I agree. I think many who commit crimes have reason behind what they do. And I think our society is very wrong just to condemn them and lock them away. Everyone is part of the human race and I think those who transgress should be understood, their problems addressed, and helped back to normality, (Whatever normality is!!)

[Jade]

I usually don't read too many stories, lack of concentration. This is so good.
Awesome detail, descriptiveness and wonderful imagery in this write.

[Jacob Clifford]

Glad you enjoyed, and thanks for reading.

[Richard Charles]

Nice flow here. I like the transistion from the gas station to alley to the home. It's not easy joining all that together in a nice progression but I think you were successful with that. I also think the character consistency hangs in there throughout those transitions. I am far away from being able to write something this long, but you give me great encouragement! Thanks for the share.

[Jacob Clifford]

Thank you very much! Always a pleasure to encourage someone.

[barleygirl]

As I recall, this new version seems a little more streamlined & better that way. But there are a few "extras" that seem a little distracting to me . . . like when the store clerk mentions it's kinda late for an interview (are interviews only conducted during certain hours?) . . . and about paying the price for the bottle of water (from the sequence of events, this seems like a straightforward transaction, nothing tricky) . . . & right after the con, the imagined cop swinging his handcuffs (seems unlikely for a cop to be doing this). The ending is much improved, more logical & nuanced, with the reader being left to ponder whether the guy would do another con or not . . . & also with the ironic symbolism of the wife conning the hubby while the hubby was conning the store clerk. Good conversation between hubby & wife thru the ending.

[Jacob Clifford]

Maybe you're right about the extras. It seems to be a bad habit I picked up from all my years of undisciplined writing as a child. As always, I appreciate you taking the time to read and leave your thoughts, especially considering you've already sort of done it for this story before.

[Stan Lee]

I recognize some of parts of this! It's a great story. You really pull the reader in and give us lots of careful descriptions to help us imagine the characters and their situation. Glad to see you Clifford! :)

[Jacob Clifford]

Thanks, Andronicus. Glad you enjoy. Glad to see you, too. I know I've been on here less and less lately. Real life crap, ya know?

[Stan Lee]

Yup, I do know about real life crap :) Hope you're okay

[Jacob Clifford]

Yep, I'm doing well. Just a lot happening.