Tim Green - The Big Time

They hadn't taken two steps before a guard barged in from the entrance and said, "Hey, G Money. We got another kid now."

"What?" G Money said, rumpling his face.

That's when the guard reached behind him, grabbed hold of a collar, and shoved Tate into the big room.

LUTHER'S PINK GRIN APPEAREDin the midst of his beard, G Money flashed his own gold grille, and Troy's dad joined in.

"Little man is some kind of Romeo," Luther said. "Come on in here, Juliet."

Tate folded her arms across her chest and scowled at them all.

"Tate," Troy said in disbelief, "what are you doing?"

"Making sure you're all right," she said, glaring at him like the whole thing was his fault.

"I'm fine," Troy said.

"Right," she said, drawing out the word to show her disbelief.

"You want me to bounce her on out of here, G?" the guard asked.

"You remember Tate, G Money?" Troy quickly said. "My friend from the Falcons game. Down on the field?"

"You can't take the little man's shorty," Luther said, laughing.

With the men's attention on Tate, Troy realized in a flash that he had a chance to do what he'd come for. The thought of his father going to jail forced his hand into his pocket. He clutched his mom's cell phone with the quarter pressed tight to its side. When he removed the items, he kept his eyes on the men and let the quarter slip from his hand so that it fell to the bearskin rug with the faintest thump.

"Oh, Troy," Tate said, obviously embarrassed by the men's attention and wanting to get out from under it any way she could.

"I think maybe you just dropped a quarter or something."

TATE POINTED AT THEfloor, and the men's eyes all followed its direction, looking at Troy's feet. Troy made a show of looking down himself and bent to scoop the money out of the rug, holding it up in his free hand.

"Wow," he said, "yeah. Got it. Thanks, Tate."

Troy's face warmed as he tucked the quarter back into his pocket.

"Okay, scat," Luther said, jabbing his thumb toward the door as he stepped to a side table and poured himself what looked like a whiskey to Troy.

"Come on," Troy's dad said, motioning to them. "Let's go sit by the pool and we can talk."

"Yeah," Luther said, raising his drink, "and I'll call you when I need you, Drew. That Cayman Islands thing, right?"

"Right," Troy's dad said. "Sure."

As they crossed the big room for the doors, Troy heard the sound of men arriving at the front door, laughter, greetings, and the slap of handshakes.

When they'd passed through the sliding doors and were alongside the pool, Troy asked, "What's that Cayman Islands thing all about?"

His father flinched but then quickly gave Troy a smile and a wink and said, "Just business."

"With that guy?" Troy asked.

"He's G Money's friend," Troy's dad said, lowering his voice. "If G Money wants to do something with him, I've got to stay on top of the deal. I'm the lawyer."

"What kind of a deal is it?" Troy asked, hoping against hope that his father would come up with something to prove the FBI agents wrong.

"Nothing you'd understand, Troy," his dad said. "Stop asking questions, will you? Why'd you come over here anyway? Did you climb over the wall?"

"Yeah," Troy said. "Tired of fighting with my mom, I guess."

"I get it," his dad said, showing them to seats around the table on the terrace where the men had played cards. "Let me get you two something to drink. Coke? Grape soda? Mountain Dew?"

"Orange soda if you have it," Tate said.

"Coke," said Troy.

The instant his dad disappeared down the shrub-lined path heading for G Money's bar by the end of the pool, Troy said, "Tate, are you kidding? What the heck are you even doing here? Do you know what you just did with that quarter?"

Tate gave him a worried look and shrugged. "Saved you twenty-five cents?"

"It's the whole reason I'm here ," Troy said in an urgent whisper that he also used to quickly tell her the story about the FBI.

By the time he finished, Tate's forehead was wrinkled with concern.

"These people are, like, criminals?" Tate asked.

"I guess they are."

"But if you help, then they'll help your dad?"

"Yes."

"We have to get that thing back in there," she said as if speaking to herself.

"How?" Troy said, huffing. "I can't just walk back in there. That guy's scary. He's dangerous; that's what the FBI said. You see the way he looks at me?"

"No, you can't," Tate said, distracted by her thoughts until she looked up at him. "But I can."

" You can?" Troy asked. "How?"

TATE'S EYES FLASHED INthe direction of the bar. She leaned forward and said, "Your dad's coming. Give it to me, quick."

"How, Tate?"

She growled at him and said, "When a girl's gotta go, a girl's gotta go; now give me that."

Troy reached in his pocket, removed the quarter, and held it out across the table. He hesitated, looking into Tate's dark brown eyes. He dropped the coin into her hand. She snapped her hand shut and jumped up, brushing past Troy's dad and his drinks.

"Where you going, Tate?" Troy's dad asked.

"The facilities," Tate said.

Troy's dad looked away and nodded, and Troy thought that she just might be right. He knew that whenever a girl he'd been around mentioned anything having to do with the bathroom, the mind of every guy within ear-shot would go blank. It was like a stun gun, rendering them useless.

From his spot, Troy could see Tate working her way through the maze of shrubbery, past the pool. She was headed right for the sliding doors of the great room, even though the small cluster of men around the zebra couch was clear to see.

"She's a fireball," Troy's dad said, sitting beside him and plunking down the sodas on the big round table.

His dad's appreciation of Tate only made Troy sad.

"Dad?" Troy said.

"Yeah? Oh, wait," his father said, raising his soda can. "Here's to five million dollars. Right?"

Troy clinked his can against his father's and took a swig.

"What'd you want to tell me?" his father asked.

"If I could help you," Troy said, "I would, you know."

His father's face twisted up for an instant as if he might cry, but then the pained look was gone. And when his father grinned hard at him and winked, Troy wasn't sure it had ever happened. Maybe he'd imagined it.

"I know you would," his father said, clapping his shoulder. "I'm your dad. I don't doubt it. You're a good kid, Troy."

"And I'd never do anything to hurt you, Dad," Troy said, looking away because he didn't trust his own emotions to stay in check the way his father's had.

"Is there something you've got to tell me, Troy?" his father asked. "You're not going to ask me to back out of the deal? It's too late for that, Troy."

Troy sighed and said, "No, it's a great deal."

"It sure is. So, we're good?" his father said, raising his can again as if they were toasting all over.

"Good," Troy said, and he dared a peek at the big window where he could clearly see Tate standing inside the zoo room with her back to him. The group of suspicious-looking men stared at her, astonished. Tate's arms flew about with her hands flitting through the air to assist in the telling of what Troy knew must be some crazy story.

Troy cleared his throat, looked into his father's eyes, and said, "I just wanted to see you. It's still pretty cool for me to just see you. I thought about you for a long time."

His father's grin went slack, and in a sad way he said, "And I've thought about you, Troy."

Troy's insides froze.