Uncle Ron was no uncle. An elderly, single, gay guy with no living relatives, he had sold himself to the boys. It's called "rent an uncle." In return for his monthly social security check they would take care of him for life. At 91, how long could that be?
Why did they do such a thing? He was the perfect foil, a seemingly frail 91 year old with a castrati voice. He made the boys respectable -- a gay couple devoted to caring for their aged uncle. Oh, and the dogs too. Make that two gay guys with their aging uncle and two dogs. Harmless.
Uncle Ron was the biggest scammer of them all, the mastermind for the whole operation.
He looked like someone hovering near death. He didn't speak much. The boys condescended to him or they treated him roughly. But it was clear he was taking it all in, listening to the banter, sizing up people, deciding who could be scammed for what. He ate the food set in front of him, wore the clothes he was given and was dragged to every party, every event, and took it all in with his eagle eyes.
It was his eyes that gave him away, to me, at any rate. He was always quiet, sitting with a Sudoku book, or watching tv...but once I saw the flash, the intelligence, something evil flash in his eyes. It chilled me when I realized who he really was.
But to the rest of the world, he was a poor, tired uncle, packed into the stolen Mercedes along with the two dogs and driven south across the border. He was given clothes, food, a clean bed, and the promise of Super Bowl Sunday in peace and quiet.
No comments:
Post a Comment