LITMIR.BIZ

      I was up early the next day, feeling antsy and ready to get back into the regular swing of work. I’d been neglecting things for the past few days and needed to catch up.

      Since I currently had no office, we’d set up my desk and chair in the corner of the living room, with the filing cabinets next to it. I got myself a cup of coffee, turned on the stereo, and sat down, pulling a box full of assorted desk crap to my feet. I stuck the pen cup and stapler on the desk and started to sort through the folders and paperwork I’d stuffed in there in a hurry. I spent about an hour humming along to the oldies station while I worked, setting aside a few things for billing, and filing the rest.

      Next, I set up my laptop and printer, put the “In” and “Out” boxes where they belonged, and arranged file and mail sorters. It felt good to get back to normal. When I was done I had a clean desk and a stack of envelopes to mail.

      I was getting up to change clothes, when my phone rang. The call was from Ernie Schmendrick of Ernie’s Used Autos. I do repossessions for the guy, and he usually calls every couple of months with a new batch of cars for me to fetch.

      I flipped open the phone. “Hey, Ernie, how’s it goin’?”

      “Not bad,” Ernie said. “I got a handful of jobs for you if you want ’em. You could stop in for the paperwork this afternoon. I was hoping maybe you can run some of these down for me tonight?”

      “Probably. Work’s light right now. If I can get Seth, we should be able to pull in a few for you.”

      “Great. See you later then.” Ernie hung up, and I shut my phone and headed for the bedroom.

      * * * *

      When I went over to Ed’s to see if Seth would be free, he was on his back under a Ford Fairlane, growling a lot of extremely rude things about the placement of starter bolts. He swore loudly and whacked the underside of the car with his wrench. I have it on good authority he doesn’t treat Matilda like that, and I think it’s best for everyone if I just choose to believe it.

      “Hey ugly,” I called, leaning on the workbench with my hands in my pockets. “You wanna make some money tonight?”

      “I keep telling you, Dino,” he said from under the car, “I’m not that kind of boy.”

      “That’s not what I heard.”

      “Come on, now...the rumor about the three sailors and the goat is lies, I tell you, all lies.”

      “That goat happens to be a very good friend of mine.”

      “You motherlovin’ whore!” Seth snarled and his hand appeared to feel around for a different wrench.

      “Strange, that’s exactly what the goat called you.”

      “Fuck off, Dino.”

      Seth’s sense of humor fades quick when he’s frustrated, so I cut the jokes and said, “Ernie called me a while ago. He’s got some repos for us, if you’re interested.”

      “Yeah, I could probably pitch in,” he said, gritting his teeth. His feet scrabbled at the floor like he was having a seizure, then he gave a loud whoop. “Got’cha, you little steel bastard.”

      He rolled out from under the car, holding the starter on his chest, and grinned at me. He set it aside and grabbed a rag, wiping his hands while he got up. “Easy ones or not?”

      “I don’t know yet. I’ve still gotta’ get the paperwork from him and see how many I can track down. I just wanted to find out if you were free. I can give you a call later with the details.”

      “Sure thing, dude.”

      * * * *

      Doing repossessions is good work and fairly easy to get. I know guys who make an entire career out of it. It’s dirty work and can be dangerous, but at a hundred and fifty bucks a pop, it pays well. Seth and I can do three or four of them in a night, depending on where they are and how much trouble we have. He’s invaluable to the process, and he’s got the tow truck if we need it, so we split the repo fees. We also list Ed’s as the actual repo agent because it looks more official that way.

      Ernie’s Used Autos is a decent sized dealer over in St. Pete, and he carries cars of all shapes, sizes, and price ranges. He’s also willing to do a lot of the financing through his own office, and because of that, he finds himself in need of repossessing vehicles on a fairly regular basis.

      I parked Matilda on the side street across from the lot and walked over, scanning the rows for Ernie. I found him showing the virtues of a Volkswagen Bug to a pair of pretty young ladies, and he was really working it. I set down my briefcase and leaned back against a Chrysler, crossing my arms over my chest. It could be a while.

      Ernie’s a pudgy guy with thick, black hair he wears on the long side, so it falls into his eyes a lot. He has a classic salesman personality, but possesses a ring of sincerity most of them don’t have. He’s an okay guy, and I like him. We meet up for beers once in a while.

      After a few minutes, the girls both shook his hand, and seemed to be giving every indication of planning to come back, judging by the smile on Ernie’s face as he walked up to me.

      “Dino, what’s with you, man? Why don’t you ever park your car in the lot? It hurts me, it really does.” Ernie clapped me on the shoulder and grinned.

      “I don’t want your clientele drooling all over my baby. Besides, she’d outclass everything you got. I’m just tryin’ to be considerate here.”

      “You’re a true gentleman, Dino. They just don’t make ’em like you anymore.”

      I laughed. “What have you got for me?”

      “Come on into the office,” Ernie said, nodding toward the tiny building in the center of the lot.

      “How’s business?” I asked as we walked.

      “Not too shabby really. We’ve been doing pretty brisk sales, and not having too much trouble with the loans. No more than usual, I guess, and that’s about what we could hope for. It’s good, real good.”

      “I’m glad to hear it.”

      Ernie held the door open and I went in, crossing the sales floor to his private office in the back corner. The place smelled like tire rubber and old coffee, and everything was covered in a thin film of the particular kind of grime that comes from being around cars. Seth’s office had it in spades.

      I shut the door while Ernie went behind his desk and pulled a stack of manila folders off the top of a filing cabinet. He leafed through them. “There are a couple of newer cars here that came with key codes, so that’s nice, and this one I happen to have a spare key on file for. The rest of ’em you’re gonna have to crack.”

      “Thanks, Ernie,” I said, taking the files as he handed them over. I took a quick peek at them myself and slipped them into my briefcase. “I appreciate the business.”

      “Don’t thank me,” he said, holding up his hands. “You’re doing me a big favor. I don’t have anybody around here I could send out for this kind of thing.”

      “We’ll pick up as many as

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