It was a cloudy day but the humidity was high. Frank sat behind the wheel and Lucky in the passenger’s seat. They didn’t talk much as they sat. They had done a lot of talking five days ago when they drove up Interstate 94 and while they stayed at their hotel. After the couple of visits Lucky had with Anthony, he would come back to the hotel and tell Frank about Ant. Lucky and Frank would go out to dinner and it would be the same. How his son was big and strong and how he looked more like his mother. Anthony was very muscular and Lucky was thin, but strong also, and his limp was gone, compliments of the hip surgery he’d had several months ago. “So what you gonna do when he ask you again. ’Cause you know he’s gonna ask,” Frank questioned his boss. Frank was talking about Lucky’s son getting down with the crew. Anthony was twenty-eight with no skills; legal ones that is, broke and had been incarcerated for ten years. He had asked his dad to put him on, to let him be part of his thing.
