Work 2 : Grasping Opportunity

“A little farther.” Maggy said confidently as she pointed to a spot in the middle of the road, her long red fingernail appearing to glow under the street lights.

“Okay.” I obeyed, pressing lightly on the brakes, slowing and stopping our car in the spot she instructed. I look around, noticing the environment that was once a lively city street had become a dark, dimly lit asphalt desert. “Is this the place?”

“Y-Yeah. Yeah, it should be.” She answered unconfidently.

“Are you sure?”

“Look, I don’t know! Maybe!” Her frustration was beginning to show.

“Relax, relax.” I take her hand into mine, interlocking our fingers and holding tightly. This always helped her calm down. Helped her feel safe. “I’m just making sure we can meet these guys and get what we need.”

“We will. Otherwise, we would’ve went through all of the trouble for no reason.” She gestured to the stained briefcase at her feet. I can only glance toward it for a moment. What we did to get to it and how it become so stained disgusted me. But I still went through with it.

  We waited for one minute. One soon became five. Five became ten. Ten became thirty. Thirty became an hour. An hour became an hour, twenty-five minutes, and fourteen seconds. That was when the headlights finally appeared in the distance. Bright. Hopeful. Almost like the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Come on.” Maggy commanded, replacing my sweaty hand with the cold leather strap of the briefcase as she exited our car.

  I take a deep breath and follow suit, patting the inner breast pocket of my bomber-jacket for reassurance. As short distance away from us is where the truck stops. Five men pour out of the vehicle; Four in matching black suits, the last in a blue suit and an obnoxious white fur cape.

  Don Liotta. That’s what the man with the fur went by. Was most likely a fan of Ray Liotta and did his best to recreate his intimidating presence. He probably practiced in the mornings between dropping a load and shaving.

“Johnathan and Margaret! My Bonnie and Clyde! Has all went well?” He asked, or I think he asked. It was sometimes hard to decipher some of his sentences, between the cigar he placed poorly between his lips and his fake Italian accent.

“All was great!” Maggy answered sweetly. Falsely sweet. So false, you could almost see how much she hated him as well. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

I nod silently. I can feel Don Liotta’s eyes looking me up and down with annoyance. He’s probably expecting me to bow down and play sweet for him. Too bad for him. I just need the payment we were promised.

  Don Liotta clears his throat after a moment of silence and snaps his fat fingers. One of the suited men from the back came forward with a sleek black case. There it is. Maggy and I exchange looks. There’s a hunger in her eyes and I’m certain my eyes carry the same.

  We were hungry. For good food. For clean clothes. For a good home with running water. For a good life.

“Ready?” Don Liotta asked. “We’ll slide it and part ways.”

Maggy nodded, holding the case in both hands. Both her and the suited gentleman crouch and throw the cases to one another. There was something lovely about the sound of fabric sliding along the rocky ground. I mean, not usually. Just this one time, I’ll say so.

  Both cases successfully reach their new owners. The suited gentleman opened the case quickly, almost the same second it reached him and looked inside. I expected a word of congratulations but something in the air had begun to feel off. As they glanced at the briefcase, I could see one of the men on the opposite side of the car reach into his breast pocket and pull out a familiar metal object.  A split second later, I reach into my jacket and pull out my reassurance and take aim.

“Mag, run!!!” I shout as I watch her scramble to her feet with the case. Bullets fly to her as she and I retreat and hide behind the doors of our car. Maggy’s clutching her arm and in it is her own safe-keeping. There’s blood along her door. My Maggy. Bleeding.

I rose once again and fired at the group. Two of the suited men dropped onto the asphalt as three holes opened along my torso. Even so, I continue firing along with Maggy, taking out the remaining individuals, Don Liotta included.

My breathing is ragged and unsteady. The feet beneath my body feel heavy. It’s clear that I wouldn’t be getting out of this one. With my remaining strength, I make my way to the other side of the car where Maggy is holding her side with open holes along her legs, breathing heavily as well.

“Hey.” She looks at me with a weak smile.

“Hey.” I responded, smiling as well as I fall next to her, hitting the ground a little harder than intended. With my free hand, I gesture to the case. Maggy takes the hint and reaches for the opposite latch as my fingers reach the one closest to me.

One…

Two…

Three!

  The case flies open. Within are several hundred newspaper clippings, all cut with beautiful precision.

Maggy and I exchange one more look and collapse into each other’s arms as we laugh and accept our fates. So much for getting rich.

-          - SunBoy