The Hand Job

by Rip Peterson

Table of Contents

On The Run

It turns out freedom kind of sucks when you don’t have an ID or any money. There was no way that I could make it home to my family who probably aren’t actually waiting for me.

I would have to walk. A lot. Like really far.

I’m not going to do that for kids I barely remember or a mother who may not even be alive anymore.

Plus, I reasoned with myself, they would probably be staking them out. Expecting me to return. That would probably be the stupid thing to do.

Maybe I could hit up Kimberly. I would totally Lady and Tramp a sub or burrito with her now.

But I did need money. For food. A place to stay.

And new clothes. Those were still on the bus.

How did people earn money or get jobs without IDs?

Most places do background checks. I needed to find a way around that.

I sat on a bench pondering what my next move was.

Across the street, a group of Mexican men were standing around. A truck pulled up and they got into the bed.

Huh.

I bet they didn’t need IDs or anything like that. They probably got paid in cash. Not sure what they would be doing. Maybe some construction or