Chapter 11 - Betting Man

   Joe sipped his coffee. Waiting just a little. Hoping he played this just right. He saw a chance to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. He sipped again. Wait, just that little bit. Draw the slight tension and drama up. Draw them in. Ben looked over.

   "Okay. You? Got me curious."

   "All right... just be entertained, until I'm done."

   Ben chuckled and shook his head.

   "Whenever you're ready. Nothing else? Sounds like I get a good story to tell the other fly-boys. Hell. I'm gonna miss them too, with the flying. Miss the wife and kid more, but. Them too. They go with the whole... flying package, you know."

   Joe kept his voice level and didn't gesticulate too much. He delivered the whole story as matter of fact as he could. He didn't want too much excitement, and chase Ben off before he was done, and made his pitch. He knew he would sound like a madman, but he wanted to be a quiet and entertaining madman, not the kind that hopped around.

   He really didn't leave a whole lot out, and it surprised even him. Ben stayed drawn into his story. He surely came off as one of those intellectual crazies. Educated, before the madness hit. Armed with the huge, circular story. Every clever plot point filled in. The kind of schizo that it was actually hard to punch a hole in their logic.

   Ben to his credit? Nodded some. A little smile, here and there. Bid him to finish. And when he had finished, Ben nodded more. Smacked his lips lightly. Had another sip of his coffee.

   "Wow."

   "I know how it must sound."

   "Now, you said you had... proof."

   "Oh, I'll get to that part. Believe me. And trust me here? From where you're sitting, hearing this? I'm the one it happened to, and... I thought I was crazy for a minute there. But, if you'll indulge me? Before I talk about proof."

   Ben smiled.

   "You know? I figure you're either... you know. No sense being rude about it. Or... good practical joke. Or maybe? Even one a them CIA guys. You're the type, now that I get a look at you. Polite. Low key. You do seem well educated. And you know? Wouldn't of been the first one of them come nosing around, on account of that... thing up there."

   "I guess they flash a badge, like cops do? Never met one, I never figured they had badges. Kinda thought they were all... secret agents and everything. I'm... an academic, I wouldn't know anything about all that, though."

   "Well. They don't flash badges. Pilots in the military? You meet one or two now and then. You're flying something important. I mean, the hell do I care what I'm flying. The guy wants intelligence on the area before the flight? Hey. My commanding officer says entertain the CIA spook? I entertain him. Then I fly. Some other guy's problem what the cargo is. My job? Get it there in one piece."

   "Not me, but. I guess any... real CIA dude, would say that."

   "After being around a few back in the day? Its more of a feel you get, than anything they say or do, really."

   "I guess if I ask about... that thing up there? Gonna spook you."

   Ben chuckled.

   "That a pun?"

   "What."

   "Spook. Old timer's word for... secret government agent. Don't mind me. Go on. I just gotta hear all this. Are you miffed, if this is entertainment?"

   "Whatever keeps you in the story? No problem on my end."

   Another sip.

   "So. That thing up there. I bet... official people, military. I mean, whoever has the job to worry about something like that? Is worrying."

   "Buddy. Worrying? Is for amateurs. We're talking... diapers got changed a couple times. No one knows shit about it. I mean, could it be secret government shit? I hope it is. If anyone knows? They ain't telling."

   "Let me ask you this. If someone could make that... thing, go away? How happy would people be then."

   "Shit. You ever watch... old action movies? The retros."

   "Sure. Weekends as a kid? And still sometimes. Me and my girl watch some of them. I like the old comedies, myself."

   "Well. An old action flick. At the end? There's always this band of... unlikely heroes. They not only survived, they're the big heroes? They're always getting medals and a parade and all that. What I mean is, the guys that made that damn thing go away? You'd get your ticker tape parade or your medals and dinner with the president, I bet. Something along them lines. Lots of diapers getting changed over that thing."

   "Now. Ben. That, was interesting. Here. First. I'll lay out my proof, okay? You'll think its just as crazy as my story, but. Gotta tell you. When you see the proof? Try not to have anything expensive in your hand, you'll drop it. I been through this."

   "Go ahead."

   "You working tomorrow?"

   "Nope. Told you. Reduced schedule."

   "Would meeting me here. Tomorrow. Would that work for you?"

   "And I get my... proof then, I guess. But, what is the proof."

   "Tell you what. If I were to tell you... that tomorrow, at high noon? Or... exactly whatever time the sun is at the middle highest point, actually. That at about that exact moment? That thing, will change size. Would you consider that proof? I mean, I know how I sound. I have this... extraordinary claim. I need... extraordinary proof. Would that kind of proof, fit the bill?"

   Ben chuckled, waved the waitress for more coffee again.

   "I'm playing along. Yeah. That? Would about do it. I think."

   "Check your phone, for high noon. The time."

   Ben grinned and did. Showed Joe the time.

   "Okay. I'll be here. Tomorrow. You show up? Or not. Wherever you are, you'll hear about it. Any news feed will cover it. They sure did last time I did this."

   "Hey. I'm not missing this one. I mean don't get sore, but, this is the most fun I had in weeks. I can't wait to tell the other fly-boys this one. You, uh... you wouldn't want to bet on this happening or not, would you?"

   Joe looked ahead, and blew on the fresh hot coffee the waitress had brought. Sort of matter of fact dead panned him. He figured it was the best affect he could use.

   "Honestly? I wouldn't want to take your money."

   Ben chuckled and shook his head.

   "Buddy. Uh, Joe, right?"

   "Yeah, Joe. Friends call me Carp."

   "Carp. You call it, and that thing does its thing around high noon tomorrow? Changes size again. On your... command, or... predicting it?"

   "Yeah."

   Ben smiled and leaned in. The conspirator's voice now. He whispered it.

   "That happens? I'll give you a G ride."

   "Really."

   Ben shrugged.

   "Done it before. Most of us have. If its just food or clothes, simple supply stuff like that? There's no big deal to it. My wife got a couple. I'm happily married. I don't use it to get girls, like the younger guys do. I can't blame them, but... ain't my style. I'm a family man."

   "Interesting."

   "Yeah. I mean, you can call anyone and tell on me? Like I give a shit. I'm a dead man anyways. Gonna get revoked and grounded in no time, as soon as my terminal catches up with me. Call Santa Claus and tell him to shit in my stocking. I don't care. Gotta tell you though. Carp? Pretty safe bet from where I'm sitting."

   "Well. I don't have much, but... if it don't happen? I'll get you anything on the menu. Hell. Drinks afterwards. On me. That way, at least its a bet. Only fair. Friends, Ben? Until tomorrow, then..."

   Joe held his hand out for the friendly handshake. He figured Ben would most likely show up, if for no other reason than maybe free dinner and drinks, see how the lunatic took losing his crazy bet.