Andy took his time buying the daily necessities: sandwiches and canned food, toilet paper, dish-washing liquid… Time was what he needed the most. Several times while shopping he stopped to take a deep breath and sigh. Spanky and his antics. He should have known things were going too smoothly. He grabbed cookies in the breakfast department.

‘You never really know a person until you live with them,’ thought Andy, recalling his first and only disastrous attempt at relationships. ‘Hm… toothpaste.’

Would Spanky’s plan work out, or would Andy have to pay his driver? Beyond being funny, that was the problem: they were supposed to be two adults accomplishing something together. To gain strength from each other. Andy dropped paper handkerchiefs in the shopping cart. Would he be stuck babysitting?

Adding a couple of discount vodka bottles for his own consumption, he made his way to the checkout. He emptied the cart and realized he had gotten some of his zen back. He felt more like himself already.

‘Guess we’re gonna need a proper talk,’ thought Andy, lifting the potatoes, sighting again.

He wasn’t used to being stingy, but his wallet was weighting heavily in his pocket when he made his way back to the parking area. Spanky was there, picking his teeth with a grass blade and overall looking like a lost puppy. The van’s open sliding door showed he had used the time to tidy up a bit.

He greeted back Andy hesitantly, testing the water. “Hey man,” he said, “found everything you wanted?” Andy nodded back.

They emptied the cart together and went to empty their accounts at the nearby ATM. Andy went first and managed to get a decent wad of bills into a backpack. Spanky had to use a technique consisting of withdrawing one banknote at a time. It was likely to take hours, but after three or four big ones, the cash machine refused to deliver more and swallowed his debit card.

“I guess that’s all I’m gonna get,” said Spanky, nodding, his face resigned, tucking the notes into a back pocket. His body language was along the lines of ‘Hey, that’s how luck goes! Nothing you can do about it’. Andy intensely focused on something else.

“You drive, Spanky,” he said when they were back at the van.

It was around noon and they first took two basic club sandwiches out of their supply box: a old chest that had lived in Spanky’s attic for the longest time. Once cleaned up, they had managed to squeeze it beside the mattresses. As far as storage went it would be good enough.

They ate in silence. At half the sandwich, Spanky was uneasy enough that he decided to start driving. That would give him something to do.

Starting the engine, he turned towards Andy. “I was thinking of going towards the coast,” he said, “then following it down until we cross over to France. What do you think?”

“Good,” Andy said, laconic. “Let’s do that.”

---

The van was rather full now. Correction: it was stuffed. Two mattresses, a food chest, bags of clothes from Spanky’s spending spree, a folding table and chairs, a set of drawers with daily necessities, cardboard boxes from both apartments stacked over the chest. It was a lot to deal with and it became messier every time the van moved.

Spanky was growing really uneasy with Andy’s disapproving silence. The only way he could make himself stand it was by redirection his attention towards other issues, like how much the van was full.

‘We should have asked for a trailer along the van,’ he thought, getting into it. ‘A trailer, that’s the only way to travel decently. Maybe he would have made it bulletproof.’

The road was cutting through the countryside. They passed orchards, small-scale cattle farms and abandoned plots of land. Once in a while they would cross a small village, brick and stone houses tied in a silent knot, grass growing unruly all around. Nothing seemed out of place, apart from them. Criminals on the run in a vehicle full of junk. Where was home now?

A sign located them 24 miles from Brightlingsea and the North sea. Had Spanky thought about bringing a swimsuit? He couldn’t remember. At least the air would be a relief, compared to the interior’s atmosphere. Damn, how much of a grudge can one bear over a little money?

As if he had heard his thoughts, Andy grunted, making Spanky jump out of his skin. He turned towards the passenger seats, only to see the old man had fallen asleep. Spanky smiled. The pressure he felt had suddenly gone down by a lot.

Half an hour later, they were parking on the side of a large pond. Spanky got out of the van. He went to sit on a wooden bench there and started throwing small pieces of his evening sandwich at a gaggle of geese. He regretted it when the beasts surrounded him, flapping their wings menacingly, trying to rip him off the rest of his dinner.

“Bah! Shoo!” said Spanky, “I’ve dealt with tougher chumps than you lot, I’ll have you know.” The geese weren’t impressed. He retreated towards the van, clearing space by kicking the air near them.

Andy was awake, a lopsided smile showing on his face. “What are you laughing at?” said Spanky, closing the door behind him in a hurry. He was all sweaty from the sudden exercise. “That’s a bloody pack of wolves!”

“Oh yeah, I saw their teeth” said Andy mockingly. In the grand scheme of things, geese could be stronger foes than the mob, people were allowed to wear whatever they liked, money borrowed would come back someday. Maybe things weren’t so bad.

“Listen, Spanky,” he said, “you’re gonna have to get that money back, you’re aware of that?”

Spanky was chewing. It took him some time to form an answer. “I. Mm. Shlrp. I’m not out of money yet, you know?”

Andy continued, unfazed: “You can barely cover the cost of gas ‘till Spain with what you got. I’m usually nice but I can get angry. You know I’ll chase your sorry ass if you borrow and forget to give back?”

Spanky gulped. It wasn’t fear, just the end of the sandwich. “I know, man. It’s not gonna happen. We’re in this together, promise.”

A moment passed. The geese gave up and flew off the windshield. Now Andy was getting hungry.

Spanky was thinking deeply. “There is still something to talk about, Andy,” he said.

Andy gestured his triangle bread thingie to indicate that he was listening.

“I think I should be called Joshua after all,” said Span- Joshua.

Forgetting all manners, Andy spoke through his meal: “You can’th be sherioush.”

“Yeah, I am,” said the new Joshua. “Untraceable, remember?”

Andy swallowed, sniffed, cleared his throat. He was feeling tired again. “Do whatever you want… Joshua. But no changing my name.”

Joshua lightly tapped Andy’s shoulder. “Come on, Andy, we’ve known each other for years,” he said, getting into character, “you can just call me Josh.”

Andy rolled his eyes.

“Would you just shut it and drive, please?”