Spencer
Fool Me Twice – Review – Reedsy
Best laid plans and larger than life characters that will make you smile
He’s planned for anything and everything that can go wrong. But the one thing he hasn’t planned for is Mac.
Paddy Evers is an ex-convict bank robber who has learned from his mistakes. He thinks this time he has the perfect plan, and he wonât be let down, because heâs going solo. Well, âalmostâ solo. The plan sounds rather good and simple, but he didnât count on Mac, who is everything and anything you might need. The expression âbigger than lifeâ seems made for him. We all know about best-laid plans, and Paddy will discover he has a few lessons left to learn.
This novel, narrated in the first-person by Paddy, offers a good balance between plot and characters, although when Mac is on the page, it is difficult to pay attention to anything or anybody else. Paddy is a likeable character, despite (and because of) his circumstances, and Spanky, a young boy they meet during the action, also endears himself to readers, as does his grandmother, and Lisa, Paddyâs long-suffering girlfriend, but nothing can compare to Mac, who tells tall tales, takes enormous risks, gets himself into trouble and out of it with ease, drags others into impossible situations, and nobody can stay mad at him for long.
The characters live many adventures, trying to get back the money robbed, enticingly near and slippery far, and the writing style is conversational, full of humour, with a good dose of foreshadowing, and fairly dynamic. Paddy sometimes shares his views on life and politics âhis time in prison gave him plenty of time to reflect upon life and its illsâ and some readers might feel those asides slow down the action somewhat. A tighter editing of the book could make it faster and shorter, increasing the importance of the action scenes, but it would rob it of some of its psychological complexity, its humour, and its charm. Because this is a novel of good but flawed people, who donât always do the right thing, but their hearts are in the right place. There are plenty of twists, turns, and false endings to satisfy genre lovers, many of whom are likely to guess how the story will end, but will enjoy it nonetheless.
As it pertains to the genre and the situation, there is some use of bad language and some prejudicial attitudes expressed by some of the characters, unlikely to offend most readers.
A fun read, recommended to fans of Welcome to Collingwood, Rufufu, those who enjoy comedies about criminals with a heart of gold, con men, and stories of camaraderie and friendship between men, especially those with a grain of truth. Just check the authorâs biography. A feel-good novel, which will make readers think, laugh, and leave them with a smile.
Fool Me Twice – Video Trailer
Crime thriller bank heist with lovable characters that will leave you laughing.
Fool Me Twice – Fishing Trip
The next Saturday, I finally got around to doing what I’d promised my father I’d do for the last seven months. I picked Spanky up on the way to my father’s, then the three of us all went fishing together.
We got up early, packed the truck with several coolers filled with beer, sodas, and munchies, and made it to Galveston by mid-morning.
It wasâbelieve it or notâSpankyâs first trip ever to the beach. I couldn’t believe itâfifteen years old, and he’d never seen the coast.
We couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day. The sun was shining, and the air was filled with the sounds of boats and seagulls and crashing waves and kids frolicking up and down the beach. And just like I had when I’d taken the boy to the zoo, I was seeing it all anew through the eyes of someone seeing it for the first time.
We found the longest pier on the island, a quarter-mile-long monster my dad had taken me to when I was still a kid myself. It was so big it had a bait-shop/convenience store built into it that was halfway between the shore and the end of the pier.
We staked out our own little corner, way out to the furthermost point, marking our territory with towels, fishing-poles, and folding lawn-chairs. Dad guarded our territory while Spanky and I made several trips getting all our supplies unloaded.
There was enough cloud-cover to keep the extreme heat mostly at bay, with the southerly breeze doing the rest.
Spanky got a huge kick out of feeding the sea gulls by hand, donating nearly our entire box of Ritz crackers to the hungry birds.
Throughout the day, the kid kept his own personal flock hovering over or near us at all times.
Spanky had, without a doubt, the time of his life, catching all manner of ocean-going critters, including a baby hammer-head, various types of crabs, two redfish, and an amberjack. It had been slow going at the beginning, though.
After getting his bait stolen a few times, Spanky turned to my father. âWhat am I doing wrong, Mr Evers?â
Hitching up his suspenders, my dad replied, âWell, let’s see what you’ve got here.â
And for the next half-hour, my father skillfully and joyfully imparted several generations worth of Evers family wisdom pertaining to the art of pier fishingâhow to securely tie the tackle, where to place the bobber, and, most important, how to bait the hookâbe it shrimp or worm.
It was the first time in a very long while that anyone had gone to my father for advice of any kind. He was delighted at the prospect of once again being useful, of actually being needed again.
As the boy listened reverently, my father took to the task as if the future welfare of the entire world depended on Spanky’s success as a fisherman.
It was plain to see the two genuinely liked each other. It was almost as though they’d been friends forever. But then, my father had always made friends easily. When I dropped my father off that evening, Spanky shared his thoughts.
âYour father’s great. I really like him.â
I smiled. âMe too, buddy. Me too. Back when I was growing up, all my friends in the neighborhood used to always say they wished their fathers were like mine. Matter of fact, he used to bring me and my friends to that same pier to fish. At night, you can catch all kinds of stuff. He’d sleep in the car while me and my friends fished through the night. I mean, how many fathers would do that?â
When I saw Spanky’s expression fall, I realized too late what I’d done.
With a despairing look on his face, he said, âI just wish…â His words trailed off as he stared into the distance.
I put my hand on his shoulder. âI do too, kid. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… you know.â
I wasn’t intentionally trying to compare fathers with the boy. I just got carried away.
âBut, look here, kid. If you want, we can come back and do this again. And next time? I’ll tell you what. Next time, we’ll charter a boat, and go waaay out where the water’s deep and blue, and the redfish are as big as a whale! How does that sound?â
He smiled at the prospect. âReally?â
âAbsolutely!â
âIâd like that. I really would.â
As I was dropping him off at his grandmother’s house, I stopped him before he could get out of the truck. âHey kid?â
He turned around, one foot still in the truck. âYeah?â
I stared through the windshield at the dark night beyond, trying to find the right words for what I was trying to say. âSay, I’ve been meaning to tell you something, but just haven’t gotten around to it.â I paused to take a breath, then went on. âAnyway, a long time ago, probably around the same time you were born, I had a chance to be a father myself.â
I turned away from Spanky’s inquisitive stare.
âAnd?â he said.
âWell… let’s just say, I sorta blew it. Actually, I blew it big-time. It was all about me, what I wanted. Screw everyone else. I let Lisa down. The saddest thing is, my parents almost expected grandkids. My dad really wanted me to have a grandson. That’s all he talked about, his grandson. Anyway, he would’ve been about your age now… if I hadn’t…â
Now it was Spanky’s turn to look away. âI think I understand.â
âBut, what I wanted to say is… I just hope he would’ve been like you, kid.â
Spanky smiled. âThanks, Paddy. That means a lot. And thanks for today. I had a great time. I never thought fishing could be so cool.â
I don’t know how to explain it, but at the end of the day, it was like two loose ends of my life had somehow been brought together- one from the past, and one from the future. Although Spanky wasn’t of my blood, still something real, something good, was passed down that dayâfrom father to son, and hopefully, beyond. It was, for me anyway, the best fishing trip ever.
Hard Lesson – Five
Maybe It's Good
Many times when something bad happens to us – getting fired from a job, getting denied entry from the university of your choice, a car breaking down, you name it – there is something is going on behind the scenes that we can’t see. And in the end, what we thought was bad, ends up being good.
The bible, in Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.”
Once, a long time ago, there was a farmer who had a prize stallion – the fastest and most beautiful horse in the kingdom. One day the horse ran away.
The farmer’s neighbor, always eager to put in his two cents, said to the farmer when he heard the news, “You’ve lost your best horse! That’s terrible!”
The farmer barely seemed to notice. “Maybe it’s bad,” he said. “Maybe it’s good.”
Weeks later, the stallion returned of it’s own accord, running back into his own corral, and with him brought an entire heard of mares he’d gathered to himself while out in the wild.
When the neighbor saw the farmer’s apparent good fortune, he exclaimed, “My goodness, man! You’ll be the richest man in the kingdom with all those horses! That’s wonderful!”
“Maybe it’s good. Maybe it’s bad.” said the farmer.
A few weeks later, the farmer’s oldest son was breaking one of the new horses, when he was thrown, fracturing a leg in the process.
The neighbor came to console the farmer. “My, my, my!” he tutted. “You’ve lost your best hand now. That’s terrible!”
The farmer smiled. “Maybe it’s bad. Maybe it’s good.”
A week later, a war began with a neighboring kingdom. The king’s officials came through, conscripting the oldest male of every household. But when seeing the farmer’s son laid up with a broken leg, they passed on to the next household.
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Since we never know what our future holds, we should always refrain from passing a negative judgement on something that happens to us, no matter how bad it may seem. To pass judgement on something we know nothing about shows a lack of critical thinking, not to mention such negative thinking often leads to anger and depression, both of which are bad for your health.
And there’s yet another reason not to prejudge something that happens to you as bad.
According to researchers at Cornell University, our minds find it easier to find evidence which confirms our judgements, rather than evidence that dis-confirms it, a phenomenon, called confirmation bias. So once we’ve judged a situation as bad, that conclusion will then cause us to perceive our life in a way that confirms our negative outlook.
The truth is, we never know what the future holds. The thing you dread now, that thing you must be dragged through, kicking and screaming, might just be the best thing that ever happened to you.
Over a year ago, I was denied compassionate release. The court’s denial meant that instead of getting immediate release from prison due to the Covid pandemic, I would have to serve the remaining four years of my sentence. It was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to go through.
Nothing good, I thought, could possibly come from such a situation. For months, I was inconsolable.
And then, lo and behold, as a direct result of getting my motion denied, I met the most wonderful woman in the world. That woman is now my wife. Had my motion been granted, I would have never met this woman. God truly works in mysterious ways.
We cannot know what He has in store for us.
But if we are patient, if we accept with gratitude and an open heart the things He has set before us, we will often find that in the end, what we thought was a painful loss, was in reality, a supreme gain.
Hard Lesson – Four
Tomorrow Isn't Guaranteed
How many times have I heard it?
“When I get out of prison, I’m going to study this, or learn to do that.”
“When I get out, I’m going to turn over a new leaf.”
“I’ll change when I get out. I’ll do this or that, when I get out.”
I once had a celly, named Roy “Big Moe” Moe.
Big Moe lived for riding motorcycles. A couple of years before his release, Roy began making plans. His brother was having a pair of custom motorcycles made just for them. They planned to spend several years touring the United States with a large RV and a trailer on the back pulling the bikes. The plan was to hit all the big sights – The Grand Canyon, Yosemite, Yellowstone. During the day they’d tour around on the bikes, while at night they’d sleep like kings in the RV.
For months it was all my celly talked about. He had pictures of the bike as it was being built. The pictures were his talisman. He carried them with him wherever he went on the yard, showing them to anyone who was interested.
It was pure joy watching him – the look in his eyes.
There wasn’t a soul on that prison yard who didn’t envy Big Moe.
Roy was so excited he barely slept that final night. On the day of his release, when I said goodbye, I told him, “remember me when the wind is in your hair.”
That morning, Roy’s brother drove up to the prison in the RV, with the two custom bikes on the trailer. Roy backed his bike off the trailer right there in the parking lot.
We couldn’t see him, but I was standing outside in the yard with several other inmates. We listened as Roy revved his bike and rode it around the parking lot several times before heading off down the highway, with his brother trailing behind in the motor home.
We all had this dreamy far-away look in our eyes, and there wasn’t a man among us who wouldn’t have gladly traded places with Roy that day.
Approximately thirty minutes later, in a small town called Carnes City, an old woman pulled out in front of Roy, and there was a terrible accident. Roy was life-flighted to San Antonio, but passed away two days later in University Hospital.
That was the day I stopped living for some ideal day in the far-off future, when I’d finally get back to that mythical free-world. Many inmates spend years fantasizing about that day, as if it’s guaranteed. But just like outside, people in prison get sick and die all the time.
Tomorrow is never guaranteed.
So if you’re incarcerated, and you find yourself wasting too much time on television or slamming dominoes, it might be time to stop counting the days and start making the days count. Make a conscious effort to appreciate everything you have left, rather than worrying about everything you’ve lost.
Start reading everything you can get your hands on – history, philosophy, psychology, religion. Learn something. Study something. While you may never get to apply it in the real world, you’ll learn something valuable: That learning and knowledge don’t have to be applied to have value.
Study and knowledge have their own intrinsic worth.
Learning for the sake of learning can itself be valuable.
It’s fine to make plans. I highly recommend it. But never forget, all we have is today.
Hard Lesson – Three
Quitting is not an Option
For those of you who think suicide is some sort of noble deed requiring great courage, I say this: Killing yourself accomplishes nothing.
It only serves to hurt and sometimes even destroy the people you love most. Suicide makes life that much harder on the survivors, who are now forced to pick up the wreckage you’ve left behind, while further burdening them with guilt. It’s the coward’s way out.
If you’re incarcerated and serving a long sentence (or even a short one), there will be days when you feel down and depressed. Days when you think you just can’t go on. After nearly 26 years inside, I speak from experience.
Know you’re not alone.
Even out in the world, there are many people who share your feelings of hopelessness and despair. Many people who are outwardly successful – even rich and famous people – feel as if there’s nothing to live for.
Maybe you think there’s no way you’ll ever possibly make it through another five, ten, twenty, or even fifty years. Thousands of people in this country face decades behind bars. But even short sentences can play havoc on emotions.
I once had a newly-arrived inmate come to me seeking advice. Within seconds of introducing himself, this man broke down in tears. “I just don’t think I can make it,” he cried, with a look of abject despair.
“Well, how long do you have?” I asked. Judging from his despondency, I expected an answer of at least a decade.
“Nine months,” came his reply.
The point is, if you’re the one serving it, if you’re the one separated from your spouse, friends, or children, any sentence is a long sentence.
Rule number one – never give up.
Maybe you feel you really can’t do another five, ten, or twenty years. The good news, my friend, is you don’t have to. The only thing you have to do right now, is follow rule number two.
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Rule number two – get through today. Survive.
Because if you can just make it through today, if you can survive the day ahead, chances are, when you wake up tomorrow, things might not look quite so hopeless. But if they do? Go back to Rule Number One.
Here’s a list of ten things that are guaranteed to help you make it through today. Things that can help you shake off the despair you may be feeling right now.
- Get up and move. Do twenty-five push-ups. Or a hundred jumping jacks. Or fifty pushups. If you can’t do fifty, do what you can do. Nothing beats exercise for fighting off depression. The hardest thing is starting. Once you get past the inertia, it begins to get easier.
- Clean something – your cell. The tier. Your laundry. And every time you scrub something, visualize your mind and heart being cleansed of hatred, bitterness, or resentments.
- Find an elderly inmate, and ask them if they need help with anything. Maybe their cell needs cleaning, maybe they need a letter written. Whatever it may be, do it with a smile.
- Write a letter to a loved one or friend on the street, telling them how much you love and appreciate them.
- Write a list of ten things you’re thankful for. If you can’t think of ten, make it five. Or even one.
- Find an inmate with a drug problem, and tell them there’s a better way. If you yourself have a drug problem, find another inmate who shares your desire to get sober, and make an agreement – a partnership – to help one another in your endeavor to gain and maintain sobriety.
- Make a list of five goals you’d like to accomplish before you get out of prison.
- Make a list of five goals you’d like to accomplish after your release from prison.
- Make a list of five ways your life could be worse. This will help you put things in perspective, and see that perhaps things aren’t as bad as you thought they were.
- Pray or meditate – sit calmly and focus on your breathing for a few minutes. Then send thoughts of loving kindness to a loved one, or even better, to someone you don’t particularly like. You’ll be amazed at the results.
So when you feel like giving up, always always remember the true secret of happiness – helping and serving others. There’s always someone worse off than yourself. If you can find that person, and help them in some small way, in the process you will find you have helped yourself as much as you’ve helped them.
Hard Lesson – Two
No One Can Save You But You
No one – not even God – will force you to make the right choices in life. Praying for God or Jesus or Buddha to change you only sets you up for failure. Because such a course removes responsibility from there it belongs (on you) and places it on God.
“Well,” you say, “I asked God to change me, and he didn’t.”
If God made you stop drinking, or using drugs, or cheating on your spouse, then you wouldn’t be human.
You’d be an automaton. You would no longer have free will. What we can do, is ask Him for wisdom, for the discernment to see the harm we cause ourselves with our self-destructive actions.
Ultimately, change comes from within.
That’s why God gave us a brain, and common sense.
That’s why He gave us two eyes with which to see, and two ears with which to hear.
Using the eyes God gave us, we are able to see the destruction in our lives caused by addiction.
Using the ears God gave us, we can listen to the lessons life is trying to teach us.
And with this knowledge, we can then use the brain God gave us to conclude that a decision is called for. A decision to stop our self-destructive behavior.
Only you can make this decision. God cannot make it for you.
And know this too – that choosing not to decide is still a decision. If you’re an addict, and you choose not to decide to get clean and sober, it’s the same thing as choosing to be a slave.
Again, you can ask God for strength, or wisdom, or discernment. But ultimately, it’s your decision. And if you find yourself praying for the strength or wisdom to make a decision, that’s a pretty good indication you already know in your heart that a decision is called for.
So in reality, you don’t need strength.
Or wisdom.
You simply need to make up your mind to do what’s right.
In such a case, it’s not a problem of strength, or wisdom.
It is, rather, a problem of attachment.
How much strength does it require to let go?
The problem therefore, is not a lack of strength. The problem is indecisiveness.
Hard Lesson – One
Truth About Happiness
Many people – especially addicts and alcoholics – have somehow come to the misguided conclusion that we’re supposed to always be happy.
We always want to feel good. No matter what the circumstances. We’re always craving that next hit, that next drink, and next slice of chocolate cake.
For many it’s a constant struggle to perpetually feel good. We’re always on the lookout for the next new way to get high and feel good. As if feeling good were the end-all be-all of existence. We search in vain, high and low, for the secret to happiness.
But the secret to happiness begins with the knowledge that we weren’t put here just to be happy. We were not put on this earth merely to feel good. We were put here to learn, to grow, and to evolve.
And the funny thing – the miraculous thing – is that the more we learn, the more we grow and evolve, the more we find ourselves wanting to help others.
And the more we begin to help others, the more we find that, lo and behold, we ourselves are made happy in the process.
By putting others before self, through the path of service to others, we then find the true secret to happiness.
A Letter to the Incarcerated
Advice From Beyond From My Father
In 2018, I had a dream. Several months after my father passed away, he appeared to me in a dream. He spoke to me for several minutes, and as soon as the dream ended, I woke up, and as fast as I could, wrote down what he’d told me as best as I could recall it. The things he told me could apply to almost any inmate in prison in this country. This was what he said.
“Look at yourself, Son. Ask yourself – What’s this life all about? Look around you. What motivates you? What’s important to you? Look how small-minded and petty it all is.
Will you ever break free?
Not just from the outer, physical, prison. But from the prison inside you? The prison of sickness and disease?
And if it IS a sickness, who or what can cure you?
If you were released tomorrow, what would happen to you?
Freed from your physical prison, you’d carry around your spiritual prison like a ball and chain. Listen to me. For once in your life, listen to me.
Now is the time. If not now, when?
You have the strength and power within.
You need only make up your mind.
Is this what you want? Is this how it all ends?
You need to dig deep. Reach down. And rise above all of this. There’s nothing more to it.
You must prepare yourself for freedom. Otherwise, it will kill you.
Do you want a life beyond this place? Do you wish to move beyond this petty existence and into the real world? Or are you comfortable where you are? I hope you want something more out of life. I hope you aspire to more than this. You must free yourself, so what when you’re released, you will be truly free.
The world beyond is going through birth pangs of its own. You must be ready, Son. Or you will not survive.”
I’ve carried these words around with me, on a piece of paper that’s now so worn it’s literally falling to pieces. I wanted to share them with inmates out there, as words to consider. Or even words to live by, particularly for those nearing release.
It is my hope that someone, somewhere, will read these words, take them to heart, and above all, put them into practice.
Because for many inmates, the “freedom” awaiting them on the other side of the fence, is not true freedom.
The years they’ve spent inside have often been wasted playing cards, reading trashy novels, or watching endless hours of television. Instead of getting better, they while away the the years growing bitter. Blaming their troubles on everyone from their parents to their eighth grade math teachers, they often refuse to turn inside to the real origin of their problems.
If you’re one of those people, and you’re reading this now, it’s not too late. It’s never too late.
If you are tired of what you see when you look around you, tired of the pettiness of life inside prison, then maybe it’s time to turn inward. To dig deep, and begin to rise above. It all starts with you. Right now.
If not now, when?
Spencer Lane Adams
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Fool Me Twice – Mac Takes Off
Halfway to Mac’s nephew’s house, we pulled in at a convenience store to grab something to eat. We’d planned on waiting till we got to Spanky’s grandmother’s house, but since we hadn’t eaten anything all day, we both decided to make a pit stop before that.
When he pulled in to the 7/11, I told him to make it fast.
He looked at me with a sheepish grin. âWould ya mind? I’m kinda drunk.â
He wanted me to get the food.
I rolled my eyes, but agreed nonetheless. âAll right, you lazy ass. Tell me what you want.â
He grinned and rubbed his hands together. âOkay, I want a big bag of trail mix. I want a hotdog with mustard and relish. I want a glazed honey bun. I wantââ
âC’mon, Mac! You want a fucking filet mignon too? Hurry the fuck up!â
After repeating his order back to him, I walked inside the store and proceeded aisle to aisle, filling Mac’s order item by item. I then carried it all up front, piled it on the counter, and headed to the back to get some drinks. When I happened to glance out the window, it was just in time to see Mac pulling the truck out onto the street and driving away.
I know I’m stereotyping, but the clerk in the store looked and sounded just like Babu on the Simpsons.
Standing at the window, I was too stunned to speak or yell or even move. So, I just stood there with my mouth wide open.
âAre you okay, Sir?â asked the clerk.
No, I was not okay. I was definitely not okay.
âExcuse me, Sir, I’ll be right back.â
I hit the front door of the store runningâacross the parking lot, and out into the street, where I stood transfixed as I watched Spanky’s old truck drive into the distance. I continued watching as it turned onto the feeder road, got on the freeway, and then disappeared.
In despair, I turned around and walked back inside the 7/11.
The clerk eyed me sympathetically. âYou do not look well, Sir. Do you need an ambulance?â
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut, âI’ll be all right.â Motioning towards the pile of stuff on the counter, I said, âBut I won’t be needing any of this. I’m sorry.â
He immediately began gathering the items up in his arms. âThatâs quite all right, Sir. Will you be needing a ride? My wife can watch the store.â
I stood there, slowly absorbing my situation. In the process, I almost broke down crying. âNo thanks,â I said. âI have a phone. Iâll just call someone.â
The one thing I did buy, was a six-pack of longnecks. Then I walked outsides in a daze and sat down on the curb in front of the store, head spinning.
Maybe Mac was just playing a joke on me. If he was, it definitely wasn’t funny.
Suddenly, I stood up and then lurched around to the side of the building and threw up. I pulled out my phone, and with hands shaking, tried calling Mac’s number. When his voicemail picked up, I instead called Spanky and told him to come and get me.
He was surprised to hear my voice. âAlready? I didn’t expect you for another hour.â
I sighed into the phone. âSomething’s happened. I’ll tell you about it when I see you.â I gave him directions and hung up.
After walking back to the front of the store, I sat down on the curb once more and opened a beer. In my head, I mentally replayed everything that had occurred in the last few minutes. It was the same old bullshit questions that I always seemed to find myself asking: What if I’d done this? Or, what if I’d done that? Or, why hadn’t I done such-and-such?
It was the story of my life, writ small. And the more I thought about it, the clearer it became to me. Nearly everything Mac had said or done since I’d tracked him down, had been designed to lull me into thinking he was my friend. It all fit so nicely into my cynical worldviewâjust one more confirmation of my distrust of mankind in general.
Now I was forced to ask myself a question. Had anything Mac ever told me been the truth?
The story about his brother? About Tony the Toad? Or Louie Brocca? Had it all been bullshit?
By the time Spanky arrived, the beer was gone.