Stealing cars (2)
“I can’t imagine doing that commute every day,” Stephen told Jeff when he saw him on the platform at Beacon. “Shit.”
“Shit yourself. How are you?”
Jeff gave him a bear hug and an arm punch, and they were on their way. Stephen was tense, more on edge than in the city a month ago when they’d hit the Stadium together and walked up the block for something to eat. But he shrugged when Jeff asked if something was up, and Jeff dropped it.
"Old place hasn’t changed, huh?” said Stephen as they drove to the river where the restaurant was.
Newburgh had changed a lot, Jeff thought, but he didn’t say it.
“Man, the things we used to do here, huh?” added Stephen.
“We had fun.”
“Newburgh – city of sin. But we made it out alive.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“Oh yeah. You’re still a prisoner.” Stephen turned to Jeff, suddenly animated. “Go down Dobbs and over to Johnson.”
"Bullshit on that. This ain’t the place to screw around.”
"Just do it.”
“No way. I value my life.”
“Why?” said Stephen, with an edge. But he let it drop.
(to be continued)