The Smoke Jumper Read Online Free Page A

of the fittest. It’s tough but that’s evolution. Now, please excuse us or we’ll be late for the movie.’
    And with another smile, he took the woman’s arm and steered her off across the street, leaving Ed standing there, drenched and tonguetied and totally futile.
    ‘You inconsiderate pair of—’
    A car whooshed past, drenching his legs with spray. Another car was honking at him.
    ‘Hey, man, move your car. You’re blocking the road here.’
    ‘Oh . . . get lost.’
    Ed trudged back to his car and got in and dried his glasses. He had to cruise the area for twenty minutes to find another place to park and during all that time thoughts of revenge swirled darkly in his head. Eventually, he found a space just a few cars along the street from the woman’s VW and as he walked back past it he had the idea. It would be a perfect reciprocal act.
    He went into Ralff’s and apologized to Bryan, the manager, for being late. He’d had a bad day, he said. Bryan shrugged and said who hadn’t? The place was almost empty so Ed didn’t feel too bad. He went quickly behind the bar and by the cash register found a piece of paper and a pen.
    ‘Hey, come on,’ Bryan called. ‘Let’s have some music!’
    ‘I’ll be two minutes.’
    He scrawled something on the paper then found some wrap and carefully sealed it so the rain wouldn’t get to it. He headed for the door, calling to Bryan that he’d be right back.
    Outside, the movie theater crowds had disappeared. Apart from the occasional car swooshing by in the rain the street was deserted. Ed went straight to the VW and leaning over the hood carefully disengaged the wipers. They came off easily. He inserted his wrapped note under one of the arms. He stood back with a satisfied smile. Vengeance, he concluded, sticking the wipers into his coat pocket, was a dish best eaten wet. He turned and headed back to the bar.
    ‘In a few thousand years,’ the note said, ‘the only drivers will be those who learned how to steal the wipers of the parking space thieves. It’s called survival of the fittest.’
     
    Despite the dampness of his clothes and the miserable day he’d had, he played well that night. Around ten, the place started to fill. One of the tables applauded every number and it caught on with the others. He racked his brain for songs about rain and they went down well. ‘Stormy Weather’ even got calls for an encore. He didn’t have a great voice but tonight he seemed to be getting a cold so it sounded deeper and, in his opinion anyway, kind of sexy. Leanne, one of the waitresses on whom he’d always had something of a crush, kept bringing him drinks and, maybe it was just his imagination, but she seemed to be looking at him in a totally different way.
    Every time the door opened he was gratified to see that it was still raining. It was pathetic, he knew, but he kept imagining the woman coming back to her car and finding the note and he only wished he could be there to see her face. The movie must have finished by now and he wondered if she might show up and what he’d do if she did. But Ralff’s was a drinkers’ place, all low lighting and red velvet banquettes, and though all he knew about her was that she stole parking spaces, he imagined she was more the healthy type, yogurt and yoga classes, and probably wouldn’t be seen dead in a dump like Ralff’s.
    But he was wrong.
    He had just taken a fifteen-minute break before his last set. He’d gone to the restroom and on the way back been cornered - willingly, enthusiastically cornered - by Leanne, who told him how much she’d enjoyed his playing tonight, especially his new sexy voice. So when he settled back at the piano, Ed was feeling pretty pleased with himself. He sat down and was just taking a drink, when he saw her. It was the red ski jacket he noticed and had he looked a moment later he might not have recognized her, for she was just taking it off. Under it she was wearing a cream-colored sweater. Her