Now You See Him

by Kathryn Lynn Carroll

“Hey, Carl, do I have a sweet deal for you.” Hearing his name, Carl turned and saw John Piscatello walking toward him, deftly avoiding a stack of two-by-fours and piles of dirt that littered the construction site. He stopped in front of Carl and pulled an envelope out of his back pocket. “I can't use these,” John said, handing the envelope to Carl. “You doing anything Saturday?”

Carl opened the envelope and took out two tickets to the big game. He whistled. “I am now. Thanks.”

“It beats watching the game on TV, doesn't it,” John said.

“You bet,” Carl agreed. “Ask Christie to go with you. I think she has her eye on you.”

Carl pictured the company's secretary in one of those short skirts she always wore. “Yeah, maybe I will.”

John turned and began to walk away. “Thanks again, man,” Carl called out after him. John was an all right guy, Carl thought as he picked up the handles of a wheelbarrow loaded with bricks and steered it toward the half-finished chimney—he didn't talk too much or ask too many questions. It was nobody's business, Carl felt, that he was on parole or had spent the last two years in prison for theft.

Yeah, he liked that everyone on site kept to themselves. If he had to have a job this was a pretty good one—except the early mornings. Just imagining the shrill 5:00 a.m. alarm made him consider calling in sick tomorrow. But, nah, he thought to himself, Christie would be there with the paychecks and he could invite her to the game. He'd call in sick on Monday.

Saturday was turning out to be a perfect day. With Christie on his arm, he had filed into the park with a throng of other fans all excited about the big game. Carl led Christie down the aisle to their seats and was happy to see they had an excellent view.

“Sit tight and I'll get us a couple of hot dogs and beers,” he told her, leaning in close enough to smell her perfume.

“Don't take too long.” Christie smiled at him as he rose from his seat. “I don't want to get lonely.”

This had to be the luckiest day of his life Carl decided as he walked up the stairs and joined the crowd at the refreshment counter. Christie really seemed to like him, and he loved being back in a stadium. It was the perfect atmosphere—noise, jostling and everyone distracted by vendors and the action on the field. So what if his being here was a violation of his parole. The stadium was only twenty miles over the state line. It was just a technicality, really, and besides no one would ever find out he had been here.

The guy in front of him finished paying for his order and slipped his wallet into his back pocket. Carl felt the old adrenaline rush making his heart beat faster. He couldn't help it if his fingers had been getting itchy lately. He missed the delicate work of making people's wallets disappear. The constraints of his parole were like keeping a magician from his audience or an artist from his easel. He'd only lift this one; a bit of extra cash could make up for the loss in wages he'd suffer for taking Monday off.

Carl felt exhilarated as he carried the box of food back to his seat and the beautiful woman waiting for him. After they ate their hot dogs, Carl put his arm around Christie and she snuggled in close.

The game was the most exciting of the season. With minutes to go the score was tied, but the home team was in scoring position again. The crowd was on its feet, the cheers deafening. Carl squeezed Christie in a one-arm hug. The play was made…the home team…scored!

The crowd went wild. Carl pulled Christie to him and kissed her. He heard whistling and shouting and opened one eye to glance around. He had the feeling of being watched, but it was just some teenage boys hooting behind him. Jealous, Carl thought and smiled to himself.

The next morning after a leisurely breakfast and a little reminiscing about yesterday, Carl went through the stolen wallet. He found two hundred dollars and a couple of credit cards. With that kind of dough, he mused, he could take Christie out for a nice dinner.

Just then the doorbell rang. Perhaps it was Christie, he thought, his heart pounding. Maybe she couldn't wait to see him again. He ran his hand through his hair and opened the door. On the porch stood his parole officer and a police officer.

“That was quite a kiss you landed on that young lady,” his parole officer said. “But I'm afraid you won't be seeing her for awhile. I have a warrant for your arrest. Parole violation,” he peered around Carl into the apartment, “and knowing you, Carl, this search warrant will turn up a few things that don't belong to you. Am I right?”

Carl stood by stunned as the police officer pushed past him and entered the room. “But I haven't….But how….?” He stammered.

“How did I know you were out of state? Well, that was lucky,” the parole officer said. “I was watching the game yesterday on TV, and just after the winning score that fan camera the network has scanned the crowd and stopped right on a happy couple celebrating the big win. Guess who it was

Just then the police officer held up the wallet, and as Carl was being led to the patrol car he wished he could make himself disappear as easily as he made valuables vanish.