Joe, all of five-foot two, with a gun that weighted ten pounds secured under his windbreaker in the waste band of his pants, stood upon the side of the road waiting for a cab.

Once alone, Joe began to think. 'Man, what am I doing? Is this the right thing to do?' But the power of his dream of returning to NY in splendor caste those empty thoughts along to the traffic of cars and trucks which were zooming by at what seemed like ninety miles an hour. Standing there, like a fish out of water, with all of those eyes zeroing on him as they passed, caused Joe to get paranoid. He felt that each and everyone of them could see he was about to rob a taxi driver! Joe began to get that familiar feeling of fear tearing in his insides. Several empty cabs had already passed him by yet he did not--or rather could not--raise his arm. And then, just as he was going to say forget it, a cab squealed to a stop in front of him and the driver said, "Waiting for a cab?

Joe entered the cab and informed the driver he was heading to his grandmothers house on 125th and Biscaine Blvd. He said he was staying at the hotel with his older brother. The cab driver just flipped the lever and squealed into the fast moving traffic.

Harry, the plan called for Joe to "put the drop" on the driver immediately after they entered the first traffic light, force him to make the next right, and then go four blocks to the bay where he would rob him, take the keys, and scoot two blocks where Barbie and Clyde would be waiting....

The driver zoomed off with Joe sitting tensely upon the edge of the rear seat. After the cabby had flicked the lever, he began to speak to Joe...

"So young man, you from NY?"

"Ah... Yea.." Joe was not in the mood to talk, he had his hand on the gun and his mind was in the process of putting all of the pieces together. The light was approaching rapidly and his hand began to shake...

"Your grandmother live in Florida long?"

Joe did not hear the question. His hand, clammy and wet, was shaking so bad he could not control it. He was attempting to force it to stop when he realized they had passed the point he was supposed to have ordered him to turn!

"Sonny... has your grandmother lived in Flor..."

"Put your hands up!" Joe screamed--holding the shaking gun between the opening of the plastic divider with two hands...

The driver, seeing a huge gun pointed at the back of his head through the rear view, began to stammer. "SSSSon..sonny.. I can't, I can't pu, pu, put my hands up! I..I.. I'm.. I'm d..d..d...driving...."

"Oh.. Yea. Well. If you don't do what I say I'll blow your head off! I'm scared. The gun is shaking. IT COULD GO OFF! MAKE THE NEXT RIGHT!" Joe said, just as Deborah had told him!

"I can't turn right!"

What Joe did not realize was that they were in the left turn only lane of the three north bound lanes in heavy traffic

"Make the %$#$%^% right NOW!" Joe screamed, pulling the hammer of the revolver back with a loud click.

"SCREEEEEEEEEEEEECH...BONK!.... BONK!.... HONK!.... HONK!...HONK!..... SCREEEEEEECH BANG! BAM RRRRRRRRRRRR......DODUMP! The taxi jumped the curb leaving a bunch of fender benders and angry commuters strewn in it's wake....

"Where you want me to go..... I'll take you anywhere! Just don't pull the trigger!" The driver squawked.

Joe attempted to compose himself, the gun's hammer had released in the bumping and screeching of the cab as it bowled through three lanes of rush hour traffic. But, do to his hand, the hammer had come down on flesh! He was nursing his hand as he directed the driver....

"OK, pull over there and park by the curb." Joe directed when they had arrived at the place they should have been ten minutes before.

After the driver pulled over, Joe began to direct him... "I want you to be cool, you hear me? No funny stuff or I'll have to shoot! I want you to place your right hand on the wheel and pass the money with your left over your right shoulder!" (The right and left thing was Joe's idea to keep him from pulling a gun)

The driver, attempting to do as Joe said, was caught up like a pretzel in a box. No matter the contortion, he could not put the right on the wheel, reach under the seat to get the cigar box with the money and pass it over his right shoulder with his left hand!

"Sonny, I can't do it. It won't work!"

"Oh yea? I betcha you just $#$%$#$ with my head!"

"Well, if you think you can do it go ahead!"

Joe, not used to this violent stuff, did not think before his pride got the best of him!

"Get the heck out of the car...and don't make a false move! I know you got a gun or something! Trying to trick me, Huh? You know I'm right... you could have done what I told you but no, you wanna make it hard. Get out, I'll get it myself!"

The cad driver slowly removed himself from the cab as Joe kept the gun leveled...

Twenty minute had gone by since the "Mike, it will only take ten minutes" episode began. Joe could hear wailing sirens coming fast from the north..."Must be for the damn wreck," Joe said out loud as he lifted himself from the rear seat. "You. Stand over there with your back to me!"

This, like the pretzel thing, was not part of the program. He was supposed to "get the money and tell the driver to face forward for twenty minutes or he would...."

As Joe reached under the front seat of the cab, the driver, whom was supposed to

keep his head facing away from Joe, glanced at Joe and when Joe's head turned to look under the seat, he just flat out picked up his feet and lit out at a zillion miles an hour!

Joe jumped up and freaked out.

Now, Joe would/could not have fired the gun for any other reason but his own safety. So, Joe was left with the cab, the money, and a driver whom had more than likely already reached the scene of the accident and the police whom would have already begun directing traffic.....

Joe cruised the corner twice where Barbie and Clyde were supposed to be waiting before becoming stuck in a mess of bumper to bumper traffic. Unknown to Joe, the long wait and blaring sirens had frightened the duo away; they had not even checked for Joe...just "flat out picked up their feet, slammed on the gas, and lit out of there at a zillion miles an hour". And with only four blocks running east of Biscaine Blvd. before hitting the Bay, Joe had no option other than to attempt a maneuver through the great big accident at 49th and Biscaine.

Joe crept the cab in first gear up to the corner before the one with the mass of flashing red and blue lights. His only option was to have the audacity to cross here! He hoped the cops would have thought he was long gone! As he pushed the taxi through the dense traffic--several times even "bumpering" a few diehard "Ain't gonna budge an inch" drivers with his massive, rubber covered wraparounds--he looked once more at the "money" in the box: twenty one dollars and forty five cents! He could not believe that the driver only had twenty one dollars and forty five cents! He began to feel bad for him. Heck he was doing his job: making twenty one dollars and forty five cents when some punk robbed him! Just as he began to mull the thought of leaving the money in the trunk when he got back to the projects--which was 60 blocks away--he noticed the police cruiser in his rear view mirror.

His first thought was to finish making his way through the center of the intersection with out raising suspicion. There were many cabs in Miami and most of them seemed to be here, right on the boulevard. He looked once more, edged his way, and then turned left onto 48th St.

The way was now clear! He stepped on the gas and...

The siren cut on in an instant. Three police cars were coming for the kill. The police must have called in the number or something because one car was coming straight at him, the other down a side street, with the original behind him. He was trapped...

Barbie and Clyde reached the projects. The word hit the streets by the time they parked their rental car: Mike had been caught! Mike had gone down because of something he did that he was not supposed to do...mainly not turning when he was supposed to and then causing the cabby to wreck ten cars in his haste to make up for his fumbling and bumbling!

Deborah and Harry had already decided to hit the first liqueur store and blast out of Florida. They figured Mike would inform on their hide-away. As she scurried around the apartment gathering the things she needed for the road, Deborah was pasting the blame on Harry...

"It was your idea to use that punk!" She screamed as she packed her clothing. "Look what happened!"

"That's bull and you know it!" Harry blared back...

Joe waited until the cars stopped in position and the drivers got out to order him out of the car before he placed the car in reverse and jammed the pedal to the floor....

BANG! The police car behind him ricocheted into the dense traffic...Bang! Boom.... BOOM... BOOM! Several cars careened into the cruiser and themselves....

The first cop instinctively turned to see if assistance was needed as Joe took the opportunity to throw the shifter into drive and jam the pedal down....

As he tore through the street towards the car in front, the one on the side street entered behind him...he twisted the wheel as he hit the breaks and jammed the pedal...the car spun a 180 and he zipped by, turning into the now clear side street......

Joe then raced the streets-turning-dodging-fleeing this way and that, until he blasted between two cars--taking a fender and a bumper along the way--on 79th and 2nd. Ave, bounced over the rail road tracks... and flew five feet through the air to come sparking down to freedom.....

Joe arrived in the heart of the projects to a screaming, maddening crowd!

"Yo man, we though you got busted!"

"Yea, wow, we checked it out! Saw you tearing through the tracks on 2nd Ave....check it out!"

"Hey, Mike...Let me drive..."

Joe's subjects were drooling all over the place in their excitement when Deborah and Harry appeared; their faces in great, big, grins...

"I told you Harry..." Deborah began as she "sulked" her way over to the car with plenty of swing in her rear. "He could do it.." She purred..

. ..and to Joe, it sounded like..."He could do it...to me!"

Just as Joe was deciding to him self where to "bury" the car, several police cruisers entered the projects! Joe yelled he would be back and burned up the grass and bushes of several yards as he tore out of the projects....

Harry, by this time, Joe had begun to feel invincible. He felt he was in power...not his past! He was learning to enjoy the adrenaline which coursed through his body... he enjoyed the fear and anxiety which crept his veins. He felt if he got caught he would spend some time locked up, but, what the hay! He had nothing better to do!

Joe made it to the corner of Biscane and 79th St. with ten cars behind him. It was getting dark out and the traffic was as slow as molasses on a winters day. The intersection was jammed tight. When he saw the cars behind him moving over to allow the cops, whom were inching their way through to him, sirens blaring, flashing more lights than Times Square and Rockefeller Center at Christmas time, he knew he had to bail out! Thinking of a trick Pauly Wheat had taught him in NY: he stepped hard on the brake and jammed his foot all of the way down on the accelerator, which caused the rear tires to spin. Within seconds, a huge, dense and smelly cloud of burning rubber completely obliterated all vision with in the entire intersection....then he made his move...

Jumping out of the car, he headed on the course he had planned on before causing the vision "white out". Running cautiously through the trapped cars, he made it to the rear of the X-rated Pussy Cat Theater, a landmark that sat on Biscane Blvd. next to a steel bridge which ran over a canal several blocks south of 79th St..

Chattering radios, reminiscent of the transit cops in that NY bust, seemed to be coming from all corners of the bridge embankment. Joe crouched high above the water, in the actual rafters of the bridge, as the police, with dogs, began canvassing the area. As they got closer to the concrete piers, he could actually hear the orders of each cop as they keenly tossed and turned any movable object. Holding still, with both legs and arms wrapped tightly around a steel strut, Joe held his breath.

"Hey, he is not here. I checked it thoroughly." One of the brown uniformed, Dade County, police officers yelled.

Joe's face itched with sweat running down his face. He desperately wanted to move...but he held still. It was dark with no moon. He was figuring to himself how they would leave soon, never knowing he was right above them, when his arm slipped and bang, he fell off the strut and into the water...

"THERE HE IS...." The shouting and flash lights soon reached him as he swam under the bridge towards the Playboy Club on the opposite side of the theater...

Reaching the boat dock of the club before the cops could figure a way in, Joe climbed out and ran towards the bay...

Joe was hiding on the roof of a large metal shed, face pointed down, a large branch of oak shading his features. His heart was pumping and he was praying they would not discover him...

The police officer, with a large German shepherd on a long leash, approached the shed. Joe could clearly see his features! Joe could clearly see the dog's face! They were not more than twelve feet away...including the height of the shed! As the officer approached the building, coaching the dog with promise of reward, the dog began to bark and jump up on the building. Joe was terrified of the dog. It seemed he had zeroed on JOE... Holding his breath, he watched as the cop flashed his light right into Joe's eyes! Joe was sure the cop could not miss him. Heck, he just closed his eyes tightly and waited for the order to turn himself in!

The cop just looked up and turned away....as he gave his dog verbal coaching of rewards.....

Joe lay upon that building until late that morning. Then, gently climbing down the tree, he leapt the club fence and made his way the ten blocks to the projects and freedom....

Joe had been traveling for six weeks with Barbie and Clyde in a rental car that should have been turned in three months ago. It was mid-January; cold, windy, rainy, cold, and cold. They had began cruising the highways of the Southeast, stopping here and there so Joe could use his "Jack training" at hotels and motels. Joe was tired of the situation. It seemed they would "let" him do a hotel room and then take the money. He ate, he slept--in the car while they slept in hotels--he traveled, but he got nothing in return...just more of Deborah's teasing. Away from Miami and "friends", feeling like he was caught in a viscous circle, he began to think more and more of Aggie...which led him to think of his family. One day, while the duo slept, Joe slipped to a phone....

"Let me see, it's Ravenswood 4, 3361!" He dialed the number and deposited the coins the operator requested....

RING! "Yea!?

"Who's this?" Joe asked, the voice vaguely familiar.

"Who da hell iz dis!" The strange voice repeated.

Oh, lord. Joe thought when he realized whom had picked the phone up! "Joe! Is my mother there?"

"Oh, it's you! Don ya know whoze speekin? I tol you youz betta treat ya mudder right. She don wanna talk to you. And, if ya know wads up, ya woodin come home!" Click He hung up....

Joe was speechless, angry, and on fire! He scrounged his last coins and dialed again...

RING! The phone picked up... but, before the party could utter a word, Joe let loose..."Let me tell you something, who the hell do you think you are! I have learned how to deal with assholes like you....when I get back I'm..."

"Is this you Joe?." The voice of his mother cut him short. He had been talking to her not that jerk Joe Pag!

"Oh, I'm sorry mom I..."

"I think it better if you do not call again... You have not changed. I'm tired of worrying about you. Besides..."

Joe hung up.....

Harry had gone to take care of some business so she invited him in.. She sat naked on a tiny chair facing the door as she put her silk hose on her legs. Running her hands up and down her legs. "Listen, we're running low on money".....she's now toying with her breasts as she attaches her bra..."and I was thinking".... she's placing lipstick seductively on her lips, running her tongue around to tamp it down and hypnotize Joe...."we should head for Knoxville where the pickings ought to be good and I can visit my aunt"... she is bending over to pick up the expensive dress she had just purchased with the majority of cash she took out of the last "job" Joe had nearly got killed for:

...It was a dark night. No moon. No lights...other than the three bare light bulbs which glared in the night over a sign that read: "TV--Real Heated Rooms-See The Live Alligators!

Joe was not amused. Heck, what did "Real Heated Rooms-See The Live Alligators" mean? What if you chose a non-heated room? Would they feed you to the gators? It did not look good, but Mrs. Barbie Doll kept on about "Needing the money...Honey" in her normal duff duff look! Joe wanted to tell her to shove it...but he was starving!

"OK, but this is the last job...do you hear me? I want to get enough money to catch a bus to NY...."

"You got it." She said...just like all of the other times before, yet here he was, at a run down motel in the backwoods of the swamp man with out a ticket, ready to rob the place.

"OK, Harry, you will go in this time!"

"Hey, that's not my thing, I..."

"I don't care about you going, I do not need you!" Joe spat at Harry.

"Heh,"... Harry began as he toyed with a large caliber gun. ..."Don't you ever talk to me that way. I'll %$%$#$% feed you to the gators!"

"OH...Come on poopy doopy....lets get the bread..." Goldy locks cut in silencing Harry.

"OK. I'll back him up!"

They approached the room which had the station wagon, packed to the roof, parked in front. The door was four feet--Joe guessed against possible flooding of the abundant swamps which surrounded the place--off the ground and had it's own metal staircase. Joe climbed the stairs and carefully picked the lock. Then he moved away and waited several minutes. When no one came to open the door, he swigged a mouthful of Jack Daniels--kept for this purpose--and returned to the door. When no one objected, he placed one hand on the upper portion of the door, his right foot against the bottom, and pulled on the knob as he pushed with hand and foot. He opened the door a crack with out a sound and blew his alcohol breath around. Then he opened it further. When no one appeared to challenge him, he walked towards where Harry was waiting..

"OK. Remember, you are the muscle...but do not shoot any one. Just follow me in and if something goes wrong, I will jump to the side and you will trip the person, than tear out of there...I will be right behind you." Joe informed Harry.

Joe crouched down and entered the dark room. Spying a pair of pants lying over a chair, he headed for them knowing a wallet would be in the back pocket...A noise caused him to halt! Harry had bumped into something and the large person sleeping in the bed turned over and loudly said something in his sleep. Looking over his shoulder, Joe motioned Harry to stay where he was and went for the wallet. He was removing it when Harry, whom saw a ring on the night standand and went for it, fell into the bed!

The guy awoke and, with the swiftness of an agile rabbit, jumped up, turned and grabbed a SHOTGUN hidden by the bed and stumbled towards the door...

Though feeling like he was about to be fed to the gators, Joe was sure Harry would remember what to do! All he had to do, because the guy still had night blindness and could not focus, was trip the guy and run ... he would still get the wallet!

The guy was rubbing his eyes when he saw Harry run like a rabbit himself! Joe was in dire circumstances; caught between the far back wall and the bed with an angry fat man with a gun... shotgun that is! He knew even if he made it out the door, he would never make it to the road before the man blasted him!

The guy began to yell as he aimed the gun out the door.

Joe jumped up and surprised him... he had not a clue another person was in the room... which was the whole idea!

As the guy turned towards him, Joe was already rolling towards his legs. CRASH! He bowled him over and the gun tumbled in a racket to the floor..

Joe was up and through the door when he realized he was gonna get it...grabbing the stairs, he swung down and under them as the guy reached the door and came tearing down, raising the gun...

He could have touched him from where he was. That's how close he was. As the man ran, firing his shot gun at a long lost shape, Joe got up, went inside, and seized the wallet!

Joe made it. He had gone through the swamp and forest area for a mile before he found the duo...at least they waited...or was it they enjoyed Joe doing all of the "stuff".....

Knoxville, ten thirty that night...

Joe spent the entire trip in the back seat--acting as it he were deep asleep; worried at a turn of events: normally Joe did most of the driving, but on this trip, Harry decided to drive and at one point he awoke to hear the duo discussing him...

"Lets just dump him!"

"But he knows so much do to your mouth!"

"What, like Mark?"

"What ever, but after Knoxville...."

Joe knew she was tired of the toy. It was time for something else. He began to plan...

"Hey, is that a hotel up there?" Barbie asked Harry. "Lets go there!"

The hotel was right on I-40, which ran through the center of Knoxville. Brightly lit and huge, it was a genuine Hotel! 'Boy,' Joe thought, 'They must have been stashing the money! It was gonna be great. Maybe they would let him have a good nights sleep in a real bed... At least he would be safe until he figured what to do...

They pulled under the glaring lights of the parking lot and parked. From where they were, Joe could see for a mile in all directions! It was beautiful because the entire road was lit like a Christmas tree. A large truck stop was perched on a bluff right across the street. Joe could see the diesel trucks, parked side by side, blowing exhaust through their stacks and multidudes of people coming and going. Joe knew what he was gonna do! He would sleep, shower, and eat...and then, in the morning, he would cross that highway and get a lift... some where north and home!

Joe's excitement was temporarily dashed when Deborah's voice crashed his thoughts.

"Mike, go with Harry."

"OK." He said as he removed himself from the car, his mind returning to his thoughts...