Things were a little crazy at home. While Lady and I were playing with the fish my children drove the Suburban into the local hardware store. Not on purpose, of course. Mary had taken the kids to the hardware store for something, then left the kids in the Suburban to run in real quick. Emily a mature thirteen year old and Mary had parked directly in front of the store, so this shouldn't have been a problem. It was cold, so she left the motor running. To set the scene further, the hardware store had an old fashion rough hung hen wood deck with a wide set of rough wood steps leading up to it. All of this raised about five feet above the parking lot. It was a nice rustic set up.

So one of my younger children pulled the shifter lever and put it into reverse. The Suburban started backwards and ran into the car parked behind us. Emily responded by attempting to pull the shifter into park, but put it into drive instead. When it started moving forward she tried to reach the brake, which was difficult with a baby and car seat in the way, so she pressed down on the accelerator by mistake. The Suburban obediently rushed forward and climbed those wide heavy wood steps, on to the porch and into the plate glass window.

By the time I heard this story Mary was worried over the entire event. There had been a police report and it being a small town, everyone remembered the incident where Cody was injured after Mary left them in the car to run into a shop. Mary's concern was that she would be accused of negligence and the state might attempt to take our children from her. I didn't believe this could happen because I knew just how protective a mother my wife was. I just couldn't imagine anyone viewing her as anything other than the greatest mother ever. Everyone who knew her would agree with my high opinion of her. But Mary had a point. Lots of folks looked down on us for having so many children, which could be a strike against us to some. Plus we home schooled, which a lot of state officials didn't like. Add to this that both police reports looked bad on paper and it was possible some social worker would feel she needed to do something "to protect these poor children."

We both loved Alaska, but the truth was that Alaska had been hard on us. We were broke and we were in deep debt. The boat had many problems I haven't mentioned, enough so that it would need a serious investment to make it safe and capable of fishing again. Not that I wanted to fish again. Plus there was the prospect that we'd need to hire a lawyer, which we couldn't afford. By the time we talked about all of this Mary had already made up her mind that we needed to leave Alaska. There isn't much she couldn't face, but the prospect of losing her children was one of those things. It didn't take much for her to convince me. We packed up what we could and left most of what we owned in the rented house. We also left the boat and my truck. The plan had been for me to come back and settle everything, but that never happened.

It was a hard trip from the beginning, mainly because we were short on cash. The Suburban died on the Illinois Turnpike on the south side of Chicago. We had it towed to a nearby exit into a cheap motel parking lot. We had enough money for two days in the motel, but not enough to repair the Suburban or enough to move the entire family even if we had a place to go, which we didn't.

I can't remember what lie I told Mary when I left the motel room to go for a walk, but I am sure it was a dozy. Maybe she believed me and maybe she didn't, I don't know, but we were desperate so I was going to do something to correct that desperation. I think deep down she had to know this. Mary knew me too well.

Three blocks from the motel was a new car dealer. A big place. I'd dressed well for my walk so no one at the dealership paid attention to me as I walked through their office. It didn't take long to find what I was looking for. The key board was attached to the back of a wall in the sales office. One guy was in the office so I walked by and went to the bathroom. When I walked back by the office was empty, so I reached behind the door and grabbed a set of keys. The model and color of the car were written on the tag, so I walked the lot until I found the car. I got in the car and drove off like I owned it and no one seemed to notice. I'd brought a screw driver, so I found an out of the way parking lot to steal a set of plates. The car only had a quarter tank of gas, so I spent ten precious bucks to add a little. Thus prepared, I looked for an opportunity.

I didn't have a solid plan. My only real thought was to rob a drug dealer. I was sure there would be plenty of them in Chicago. This plan had several critical short comings. First, I didn't know anything about drug dealers except they usually carried guns. That was my second problem: I didn't have a gun. We'd already sold our guns, so robbing an armed drug dealer with a screw driver seemed problematic.

I did know Chicago fairly well, though. Over the years I had done a fair amount of work in the windy city so I knew my way around. Just to be on familiar turf I drove to an area I knew. After two hours of driving around looking for either an unarmed or a very stupid drug dealer I decided to give this up. I was getting hungry so I went to a big hotel I'd stayed in before because I knew they always had coffee and Danish out for guest. I sat in the hotel's comfortable lobby, ate the "free" food and tried to figure out how to get out of this situation.

As crazy thoughts ran through my head I noticed a woman walk from behind the checkout counter with a green money back in her hand. I wasn't willing to commit a robbery, even if I'd had a gun, but it was difficult for me to ignore the money bag. Of course there could have been anything in the bag other than cash, but it was a bank bag, so I was attentive. The woman and the bank bag went into a non-descript room down the hall and disappeared inside. I noticed that she didn't have to unlock the door to enter.

There was a convenient bank of pay phones in that hallway (I feel like I need to explain what this is but won't) so I pretended to use a phone and watched the door. I didn't really believe this would lead to anything but I've always believed in looking for life's opportunities. At this point I was simply waiting for an opportunity that could develop. Five minutes after she entered the office, the woman left again. This time she had a register receipt in her hand. With her back to me I walked towards the door. She had just turned out of sight when I opened the door and stepped inside.

Having no idea what to expect on the other side of the door I had a story ready about looking for the hotel's business center. But I wouldn't need a story. The office was surprisingly small. Eight foot by ten foot. About the size of a jail cell. All that was in the room was a desk and chair. On the desk were three green bank bags and several neatly arranged stacks of cash, with a plastic box filled with rolled coins.

I grabbed the cash first. I didn't have anything to put is in so I filled my pockets and then stuffed the rest inside my shirt, which was already tucked into my paints so nothing would fall out. The green bank bags I simply picked up and held together. There was box of Kleenex on the desk so I pulled one out. With the tissue I wiped the inside door handle clean of my prints as I opened the door, then wiped the outside door handle as I left the room. The only other thing I had touched was the things I had taken. Without hesitation I walked calmly towards the front lobby exit and my car. I was wearing a suit coat so put the three bank bags inside the jacket and under my left arm. They were too large to hold there without looking awkward, so I held my left wrist with my right hand making it look like my left arm was injured. Far from an ideal slight-of-hand, but it was the best I could do with no planning.

I didn't see the woman as I left and no one seemed to notice me. At a red light I opened the bank bags. All three were filled with credit card transaction receipts and checks. After safely dumping the bank bags I drove back to Mary. A few blocks from the motel I bought a McDonald's feast for the kids and asked for an extra bag. I put all but twenty dollars in the McDonald's bag then stopped by a convenience store where I bought a spray bottle of window cleaner and a roll of paper towels. There I cleaned off the inside of the car, kept two paper towels and threw away the rest.

I went straight to the motel with the goods. The kids were delighted to see the bags of fast food. I handed Mary the bag with the cash and said, "I'll explain after I return a car I borrowed." My wife wanted to scream and hit me with something, but she held her words and anger. Her eyes did get wide when she looked in the bag. Knowing I was pushing the limits of her patience I whispered, "Drug dealer, no one hurt." She was still upset because even that she didn't like me doing, but she calmed a little and nodded. She walked me out the door and said, "Nice car. You are going to return it, aren't you?"

I removed the stolen plate and dropped them in a trash can being sure my prints were not on them, then returned the car to the exact spot I'd taken it from. After a final print wipe of everything I had touched I left the keys in the ignition and walked back to the motel. Mary had counted the money and transferred it to her purse. She met me outside the door when I returned. I think she wanted to make sure I was walking and not driving a "borrowed car."

She said, "I don't like what you did, but thank you. I was worried." Then she added, "Sixteen hundred dollars. What now?"

I'd hopped for more, but it would be enough. I'd left the full size Dodge van I'd bought on one of my trips in long term parking near the Pittsburgh airport, so I said I'd go get it and come back for everyone in it. Pittsburgh was 500 miles away, so a ten hour drive each way.

I considered taking a bus to Pittsburgh, but I hated busses. Borrowing the car again would be the easiest way, but Mary wouldn't like that and I'd pushed her limit enough as it was.

"I'll hitch hike," I said, pointing towards the Illinois Turnpike a few hundred miles away. Mary didn't like that either, but she agreed. She believed hitch hiking was dangerous, but she trusted that I could take care of myself.

We had expense money for now, but time was working against us so I decided to leave immediately. I changed to clothes more appropriate to hitch hiking, took a total of $300, kissed everyone good by with a promise to return the next day and walked towards the turnpike. I walked across the overpass to the east bound side, climbed the fence, then walked down the road to where I'd spotted a car left on the side. It was always easier to get a ride when someone thought you'd broke down. Standing just past the broke down car, I stuck out my thumb. Within the first minute a pickup truck stopped and gave me a ride. Things were looking better.