The Legend of Kareem Read Online Free PDF

in my shoe because I was worried about leaving a credit card trail across Texas for Glenning and those people to find.
    “Alright, man, let’s get this show on the road.”
    Zeke’s car smelled of fast food and sweat, and the floors were ruled by a collection of random junk. As he started the car, he scrolled through some music on his phone and then blasted it through the car’s speakers. “Just got this,” he shouted over the din. “It’s a bootleg of the Portland show from last month.”
    As we left the parking lot, I realized it was White Widow we were listening to. Some kind of world-music hippie jam band stuff, warbling and dissonant and meandering. Not my scene. I’d take Josh Ritter or Iron & Wine over this junk any day.
    The traffic on I-35 crawled like roaches across a carpet. Zeke had mercy on me and turned the volume down on the music an hour into the journey. I couldn’t even say how many White Widow songs I’d heard, because they all blended together like one long djembe drum solo.
    My pocket started to buzz. As I fished my phone out, Zeke turned the music down a bit more.
    “Hello?”
    “Tucker Candle?” a voice on the other end said.
    I tossed a glance at Zeke, wondering if he could hear the caller. Zeke eyed me.
    “Yes, that’s me.”
    “Mr. Candle, this is Detective Cross. I’ve been going over your statement and I just have a couple questions for you. Was wondering if I could pop by around nine tomorrow morning and we could chat for a few minutes. No big deal.”
    This was a problem. While I hadn’t been arrested for any of the events of the last two weeks, they’d told me I wasn’t supposed to leave Colorado without permission.
    “I don’t think that’s going to be possible,” I said.
    A pause. “Why is that?”
    “I’m afraid I’m not at home. I had to travel to Texas for…” I didn’t know how to finish that sentence. I was either going to lie to this detective or get caught in a lie to Zeke. I chose Zeke. “I had to fly to Texas to take care of my father’s estate. He passed away a couple weeks ago.”
    “Sorry to hear that, Mr. Candle, but you were supposed to inform us if you were required to travel.”
    “I know. I’m sorry about that.”
    “You need to contact me immediately when you come home. We have some unresolved issues surrounding the events of last week. Your statement needs to be clarified.”
    “Absolutely. I will do that.”
    When the call ended, Zeke shook his head. “You lied to me, man.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Your name isn’t Luther.”
    I didn’t know what to say. I considered a few options, but I was red-handed no matter what I said.
    “I saw your driver’s license when you showed me your cash.”
    The way he said it sent a pulse of fear into my stomach. I had an urgent notion to somehow distract him, open the car door, and tumble out. I’d try to roll, maybe might only dislocate a shoulder. But that was crazy. We were doing seventy on the interstate.
    “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
    “Whatever, I don’t care. I just don’t want to have that kind of energy between us, you know? That’s not what I want to carry into the show.”
    He looked at me, and I winced.
    “Oh, you’re not even going to the show, are you?”
    “I’m sorry, Zeke. I just need to get to Austin, and this was the only way I could think of to do it.”
    He bit his lip, turned the music back up, and ignored me for a half hour.
    Somewhere around Waco, Zeke started sniffling. I noticed a dribble of a tear on one cheek lit in orange light by the dashboard electronics. He caught himself and turned his head away. I wanted to ask him what was wrong but didn’t want to pry, given that he was probably still mad. I was surprised he hadn’t left me by the side of the road after I’d lied to him.
    In a couple minutes, he broke the silence. “That phone call. You said your dad’s estate?”
    “Yeah?”
    “My dad passed away a couple months ago. Still hurts.”
    A van