Saving Savannah

“What’s your choice?” the man said again. “Left? Right?” His eyes gleamed. “Center maybe?”

I shook my head. “None of them.”

The man’s eyebrows knitted instantly together. I saw a flash of panic, and then he smiled again.

“You have to pick one of them!” he laughed merrily. “That’s how the game works!”

“Not this game.”

The crowd let up an “ooooh” sound, low and in stereo, while the street performer shifted uncomfortably.

“C’mon little lady,” the man chuckled again, only this time there was a nervous edge to his laughter. “You saw me put the ball under one of the cups.”

“Yeah, but I also saw you sweep the ball into your front left pocket on the third crossover,” I said, “while you pretended to lose control of the cup in your right hand.”

The man’s face went utterly blank. All the excitement and animation was gone.

“It was pretty slick,” I went on. “Happened really fast.” I nodded back to the table. “Go on, then. Lift all the cups. Show everyone where the ball is.”

The man frowned, then swept the cups away without revealing anything. Just as quickly however, he shoved Roman’s money right back in his direction.

“Wait a minute,” I smiled. “I thought twenty got us sixty?”

“Go scratch,” the performer grumbled.

I laughed again as we got ready to leave.

“You’re good,” I told him confidentially. “Real good. But if you’re gonna commit to a distraction like that? You need to sell it more.”

He eyed me sideways as we melted into the crowd, which was disbursing quickly. We were another minute or two down the walkway before we heard the sound of the man’s voice calling out again.

“Holy shit,” swore Roman, when we were alone again. I could tell by his body language he was absolutely incredulous. “Where in the world did you learn to—”

“Do you like Chinese?” I blurted.

He paused, before letting out a short laugh. “Does the tin-man have a sheet metal cock?”

“Very well then,” I smiled back. “Lead the way, and lets go blow the twenty dollars I just saved you.”

Thirty-Seven

ROMAN

“And you drew these?” she asked incredulously.

“Yep.”

“All of them?”

Savannah spun in a circle, her pretty mouth dropped half open. It was a lot to take in. The walls of my room were pinned with sketches and drawings in every direction.

“Oh my God, Roman!”

I turned red as I always did, as that familiar flush of embarrassment crept over me. But unlike some of the people I’d shown my work, her astonishment was genuine. She seemed actually impressed.

“I had no idea…” she gasped, as her gaze finally turned back to me. “I mean, I knew you drew doodles. Those little cartoons you’d send me through text-messages. But this…”

“Is a little more serious because it’s bigger cartoons?” I joked.