--Nobody'd live with him. He'd just as soon nab some coin from his own toilet as say hello to a friend.

--A real guy. Still doing the same thing, I heard.

--Same thing, yeah.

--Just won't quit.

--He won't quit. Shouldn't quit something you're that good at doing.

--I suppose, yeah.

--It's true! You shouldn't.

--I suppose not.

--Coulda been a professional with those hands though.

--He is a professional.

--That's what I meant.

--A shame.

--Old-school tricks.

--With hands like those... Jesus.

--Can't beat it, sir.

--You could do a lot.

--Too bad.

--A shame. Vince is pretty old.

--No, he's pretty young.

--I thought he was...

--No. Little older than we are.

--I coulda sworn he's pretty old.

--Who: Vince Kohn? No.

--Well, it's too bad he lost his hands.

--Didn't lose them: They're on display in the Manwell Gallery.

--That's what I heard. Some big shot Jap is gonna buy them at auction for a million bucks.

--I didn't know.

--Thursday, somebody said.

--And Vince won't see any of it.

--Nope.

--Damn.

--Damn right. Really had something.

--What I'm asking is...

--How does he still do it?

--That's what I'm asking. How the fuck does he still do what he does?

--With no hands.

--Nothing at all.

--That's what I'm trying to get at.

--Something unbelievable.

--That's it. Something bizarre.

--Divine.

--I'd say. Definitely.

--We can't understand the way.

--Makes you wonder.

--And course he's not gonna get caught ever again.

--Imagine. A joke.

--"Your honor this man picked me off for a thousand dollars and I want him jailed."

--Yeah, and: "But this man has no hands to speak of at the moment."

--The prosecution has got to fucking rest at that.

--Jesus Christ. I guess so.

--Some kind of power.

--Vince Kohn...

--A real guy.

--A real shame.

--You know what they say? What people say?

--Who?

--They say... I don't know, word's out they say his hands walk the halls of the museum at night.

--Bullshit!

--When nobody's around, they say.

--Who says that?

--It's got to be bullshit but they say it.

--Who?

--Lot of people I've talked to about it.

--Like who for instance?

--Like Marianne.

--That bitch says a lot of things.

--Yeah but she and Vince were close.

--Like how close?

--Like less than an inch close.

--That close?

--Think of it. But closer.

--What did she say about him?

--Said Vince could pick somebody off from across the street.

--I wouldn't believe her. That bitch.

--That sometimes he didn't even realize when he was picking somebody off till he got home and found a clip of hundreds he didn't have before.

--She was close. But let me ask this...

--She had some stories about Vince would make you shit your pants.

--Let me ask you: You ever seen Vince?

--Sure.

--Really?

--I seen Vince.

--Yeah but really.

--No. Not in person.

--What do you mean "not in person?"

--I mean no, I never actually laid eyes on him. But Christ, you got to understand: I mean, his fucking hands are on display in a fucking museum with his fucking name attached to a little card.

--His hands.

--His fucking hands are there. In a museum right down the street. Ask Tony.

--The hell does Tony know?

--Knows they're there.

--Shit. Tony?

--Well I don't care. Whatever you want to think.

--No no. I know.

--Ask anybody.

--No, I know. I believe it... How'd Vince lose his hands?

--They're many theories on that.

--People guess about it. What's a good one?

--Nobody really knows much.

--What do they guess about it?

--Well. Jack said he was caught and given the ultimatum of either going straight to prison, eight to ten, or have his hands surgically removed at the wrists and be given a shitload of drugs for the rest of his life. See he was that well-known that he could bargain with the cops.

--I heard that one. What else.

--One I heard the other day. Vince picked off some broker with contacts. Took a pile of cash from the guy's suit coat pocket that the guy had been advanced for something or other. And, well, this broker hired a few people, they found Vince, followed him till they were sure he was the one, and sawed off his hands with a few pocketknives. The kind you'd buy anywhere.

--Heard that one too.

--So what are you asking?

--What does Vince look like?

--Tall, thin. Mustache, I guess.

--I heard short as a dwarf.

--Well, I don't know!

--I'm just asking.

--Marianne says...

--Fuck Marianne! You know what she did to me?

--What do you got against Marianne?

--Nevermind. Vince's the point.

--I don't think you know but... they were married.

--Marianne and Vince?!

--Yeah, married. That's how come she knows.

--She knows shit and I'll prove it.

--And when Vince was in the heavy dough, few years ago, he'd throw these dinner parties (Marianne says) and invite a hundred or so people with real wealth.

--Yeah I bet she did; she said a lot, that bitch did.

--Let me finish...

--OK yeah.

--And Vince would take their coats like any other host and slip a twenty or a fifty out, depending on the proportion of cash any one sucker had, and put it in his own pocket. Nobody said a fucking word because, this is Vincent Kohn, an important guy. Now that's fucking lucrative.

--Pretty smart I got to say. You gotta figure that's how much?

--That's... That is a lot of fucking money for a night's work.

--Nevermind it.

--Give it no heed.

--Seriously. For us that's like a lifetime of toil.

--But shit man, you got to admit, that's out of the fucking book wisdom. Doesn't just come like that.

--That's a lifetime.

--Build the man a fucking pedestal.

--That's what I mean.

-- ...I didn't want to say anything before. I think I saw him.

--Vince?

--Couple weeks ago. Vince.

--Why didn't you say something?

--Didn't want to get anybody excited. Around two thirty on Good Friday. I was picking an old guy with an easy flap bag on 2nd. I saw Vince Kohn then. I didn't even finish the guy off. Just stared like some moron.

--That ain't right.

--I know but I was shocked.

--Not that. It isn't right that you saw him Good Friday at two thirty on 2nd.

--No, it was Vince Kohn. I'd know him from anybody.

--Naw... I saw him Good Friday around two thirty while I was ripping off a fat hag on 49th.

--Just fucking mention it now!

--Too much to say.

--At two thirty?

--Definitely. I looked at my watch. Two thirty.

--Isn't right.

--No shit. I'm thinking something important.

--Yeah, like who else has seen him.

--Like that, yeah.

--Because there's Marianne and Tony, probably Larry and who else.

--Everybody's said they've seen him somewhere.

--Yeah. Who else.

--Everybody at some point.

--Like who?

--I don't know who all. But everyday there's somebody.

--Fuck that, seriously. All's I'm saying is we're all into something crazy.

--The man's like some goddamned myth.

--We got to get to the museum and see those goddamn hands.

--That could be it.

--We'd better hope so.

--But if it isn't.

--Then that's it.

--Something crazy...

--Fucking hypnosis.

--Heavy stuff.

--Goddamnit.

--We'll see. This guy could be real or not.

--Tall guy you saw on 49th?

--Real tall.

--Guy I saw was short. So short you wouldn't notice him if you wasn't looking.

--Something else.

--Listen to this: Each of us is seeing what we want.

--Isn't that something.

--We got to find out.

--The museum. Manwell Gallery?

--We just got to.

--That's everything.

--Little bit more than everything.

--Wait.

--I'm seeing it.

--Vince is like some kind of patron saint.

--What're you saying?

--I'm saying does it matter?

--You're thinking like Vince.

--Learned a lot from Vince.

--Me too.

--We have to stay calm here.

--You're saying something important.

--What would Vince do in our situation?

--I think I see what you're doing, yeah.

--We got to make sense.

--Vince is something more.

--Like the time he nabbed a siren from a cop car as it was driving by.

--That's it.

--There's more like that.

--Forget it. See that guy?

--Just got of the cab. Wearing a tweed suit. Looks like an expensive make.

--That one.

--Let's give him something to talk about.

--A couple good stories.

--Keep him guessing.

--Some good stories for Vince.

LAST ORCHARD IN AMERICA

**SUBSCRIBE TO THE2NDHAND if you like reading our our respective broadsheet and online series -- any donation above $30 gets you a LIFETIME SUBSCRIPTION to THE2NDHAND's quarterly broadsheet. See this page or send a payment through PayPal here:

OUR FRIENDS AT The Left Hand make great soap, salves, balms and other natural hygiene-type stuff, in addition to publishing a zine and running a book swap, a performance series and more from their Tuscaloosa, AL, homebase. When they offered to make something for us, we jumped. We introduce THE2NDHAND soap, an olive oil soap with a quadruple dose of Bergamot, "for the readers we've sullied..." Price is $6, ppd.

**BOOKS BY THE2NDHAND CONTRIBUTORS at Amazon

Enter your search terms Submit search form

Web www.the2ndhand.com

061509