“Look, do you think I could just touch one?”
“Touch one?”
“Yeah, touch one. Or hold one, or just the bag Davey. I could just hold the bag for a second if your arm starts getting tired. But I’d really rather touch one.”
“Well you can’t people might see.”
“But I could hold the bag. That would be okay, right? I mean your arm must be getting tired pretty soon. Or maybe already. Maybe your arm’s already tired and yeah that would make sense to somebody looking. Somebody who was looking would be like, yeah his arm probably just got tired so he handed it to his friend.”
“Would you just shut up”

Davey didn’t want to give Carl the bag. He didn’t trust him. He didn’t think Carl would steal, Carl wasn’t smart enough for that. But he was exactly stupid enough to get them caught. But the only problem was that the bag was actually really heavy. He’d switched arms already and was about to have to do it again. Carl, the big lumbering ox, would have been ideal for this except for the fact that he just couldn’t be trusted. There had been silence between the two of them for almost a minute and now and Davey could feel the conversation’s resumption coming at him like a train.

“I was just thinking,” said Carl with a tone suggesting that he hadn’t ever spoken on the subject before, “that if you passed the bag to me people who could see us would just think you were just passing the bag to me because it was heavy not because there was something in it that I wanted to hold because it was exciting. That’s all I was thinking. I just want to hold the gold bars Davey.”

“But what about people who can hear us Carl?”

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