Sunday, June 22nd, 2014
Issue: 9   Editor: FlameS


Life of Crime - Part One FlameS

It was a late night out on the street of Illinois. There was a chill in the air leaving me with goosebumps. As I put on my jacket and cross the street I notice a man. He took my attention right from the start and I was intrigued. I attempt to blend in with the crowd of people pouring out from the late showing movie. It is my hopes to get close enough to him without drawing attention to myself in the process.

It was then that I noticed it. He had a browning concealed under his heavy black trench coat and it was just peeking out of the bottom. Its muzzle reflecting in the street lights I was sure things were about to get scary. What was he doing there all alone and armed so heavily? I take a deep breath and start to work my way towards him. I think to my self “Are you crazy? STOP! Don't do this!” Against all advice, I know I have to at least say “hi” to the man who will only be a regret if I turn and run now. I want to be the one who says “I met that guy once...” and for that, I push on.

I weave in and out of the people. On this night no one was exchanging pleasantries. I would say excuse me and they would look up for a brief moment, then return to their conversations about the wonderful movie they had just seen. I was never much for silent films, and wonder if its the class of people attending them that ruin it for me.

I am lost in thought about the social status' of the world when I look up to notice him standing right in front of me. Face to face. Our exhaled breathes intertwining and almost dancing between us. He holds out his hand and says “You could at least shake my hand after staring at me.” I am baffled, confused and scared. It all clicks in my head very quickly that I was not the watcher, but the watched. I was stuck like a deer in the headlights. I could not move from the fear that had wrapped it self all the way around me. I could not talk for there was a huge lump in my throat. Hell, I was even scared to blink in fear I would pass out from terror.

A minute or twenty had gone by and we both were still just staring. Then he put his hand under my chin and told me “There is no reason to fear me at this time my sweet, I am just checking the streets to make sure they stay working for me.” You could see the kindness in his eyes had been abused in the past but still he makes the effort to be kind. You can feel the power in his touch, yet it also seems gentile. I start to ease and can finally talk. “I am so sorry for the awkwardness it seems your friend there (points to the concealed weapon) made me very nervous. Please forgive me for staring sir, but I have heard so much about you and I just wanted to see if I could say “hi”. He throws his head back and erupts into a hardy laugh.

“Sweet girl who's name I do not know, you do not need to be scared. You should say hi to anyone with whom you wish. You can never let fear consume you. Death is impending no matter how you look at it and one must always use their time wisely.” I step back in shock at the words he said. The whole time he is talking he is constantly scanning the streets, watching everyone and everything.

He offers me a seat on a nearby bench and I take it. Unsure of what he may say next I might like to be sitting down. After an hour of small talk about the weather, road conditions and the current tax rates he suddenly stood up. He looks to me and says “Sweet girl, I will say to you good night as my team is not far now. What we do can be dangerous and I do not want you to get hurt. I should have never left my post as I am the defender in this operation and if I fail my team we will all be blown to pieces. It's best you go for now.”

I don't want to go but can tell by the alarm in his voice that I don't get a real choice in the matter. I thank him for the nice talk and turn to walk away. He grabs my arm and turns me around so fast I thought I had been shot and says “Are you a good driver?” I start to smile and reply a simple “Yes”. He goes on to tell me I can try driving for him and all about a secret mail service called “BM” and how to use it by typing in the his name which he than gave me as “Sored”. He is smiling now and so am I. As I walk away I know this is dangerous and scary, but most things unknown are, and besides this could be the start of my life of crime.

Part 1. Please stay tuned for Part 2.
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