Talk

by Geoffrey Mahley

He opened his eyes, but it did not matter. The cramped trunk was too dark to see his hand in front of his face. To make matters worse, the sound of the engine cut out all of his auditory senses, except for the piano keys being played through the car speaker system. How could such soothing music be the soundtrack to my life right now? The beat finally dropped and the bass came in, making his headache more intense. The rag he had tied around his leg was progressively turning red and damp. Vince laid his head against the spare tire and waited.

***

“Yo,” Kevin turned down the music. “What do we do with him?”

“Look, we can’t do shit until we figure this all out. I say for now we just keep driving.”

“We’re almost out of the city though, James. We could just take him back by the bay and pop him and end all of this. No one would know, just the fishes.”

“SHUT UP WITH THAT SHIT. We need to think this all over. We need to figure out what went wrong.” James got off at the next exit and pulled the car off of the main street. “Okay, think now. How do we fix this?”

“Shit I don’t know. You’re Mr. Think All of This Through, Figure This Shit Out. You tell me.”

“How does that help either of us? I hope you know we’re both fucked.”

Kevin turned the music back up, closed his eyes, and lounged back. Kevin was very cut for someone his size and talked whatever was on his mind. James, on the other hand, was 6’2 but looked anorexic. James reached over into the glove compartment and pulled out a strawberry swisher and the last of his god’s gift. He threw the dank duglettes into his grinder and gave it a few twists then gutted the swisher into the street. With the cracked swisher in his lap, he began spreading the weed evenly throughout. He quickly made the flip and sealed it in one fluid motion. Kevin opened one eye and saw the ready blunt and handed James his lighter. They hopped out of the car and killed it in less than five minutes by playing a quick game of baseball. Then they popped the trunk and pulled out their prisoner.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?” asked James.

“Fuck you,” Vince spat back at him. Kevin brandished his piece and waved it in Vince’s face.

“I have NO problem with poppin’ you right here.” Vince silently stared into Kevin’s eyes. “AHHH FUCK!” yelled Kevin as he pistol whipped Vince to the ground. He cocked his weapon and aimed at the back of Vince’s head.

“Stop! Throw him back in the trunk! This is not the way to handle this shit,” James interjected. Kevin grabbed the back of Vince’s jacket and hoisted him into the trunk once again and slammed it shut. “We need to find out what he did with it, for our sakes. And we CAN’T do it with him dead.”

“You saw that mothafucka looking at me like that, didn’t you?”

“SHUT UP. We just need to go back to the Marina. Tomorrow night. Wait for things to cool down. That means we need to crash at your place. Is that cool?”

“Yeah, it’s cool.”

James turned the windshield wipers faster the closer they got to the marina. There was no music on this excursion only the swish swish swish of the wipers. The sky was a dark purple, the color of grapes, with splotches of gray tossed in. James pulled the brown Datsun into the parking lot and killed the engine in a spot close to the exit. The clock in the car read 11:30. From their position they make out the glimmer of the Golden Gate through the misty weather. James turned to Kevin. “Okay, let’s take him out.” Kevin hopped out of the car, swiftly grabbed Vince out of the trunk and tossed him in the backseat, still bound.

“Where did you throw it?” Kevin turned around in shotgun, and questioned.

Vince was silent.

“Where…did…you…throw…it?” Kevin spelled out, as if he was talking to someone who spoke a different language.

Vince remained silent.

James nudged Kevin and pointed to a beat up black car rolling into the lot. It’s lights were off and it was moving sluggish to the other side of the parking lot. The car was in a spot, but the engine was still on. James was able to see the brake lights and exhaust in the rear view mirror. It stood there for a couple minutes before a person dressed in dark clothing emerged. The figure began walking down to the shore break and began searching.

***

“Who is that?” Kevin barked at Vince. Vince began thinking very fast and hard. Thoughts ran in and out of his mind over and over again. He knew he had to do something to get these guys off his back.

“He’s the guy I texted while I was in the trunk.” Lie.

“What the fuck? James, what do we do?”

“I’d hurry up and do something before my hommie gets to the briefcase. I told him where it is.”

“Shut up!” Kevin said before pulling out his gun again.

“Stop FUCKING doing that,” James hissed at him. “What have you accomplished so far by whipping out your gun?”

“This.” BAHKA! Kevin pounded Vince in the head once again. Vince fell to the cushioned seat and shut his eyes, but kept his ears open.

“SEE! God damn it! You knocked him out. Now we know absolutely nothing about that man over there. And it’s all your fault.”

“Naw, don’t worry. I have a plan.”

“Ok, let’s hear it, dumbfuck”

“See, all we have to do is go over near the shore and wait for my man to get near, then grab him and make him show us where the case is.”

“What do we do about our buddy in here?”

“He’s not going anywhere.”

“No, fuck that Kevin. I’m staying here and making sure he doesn’t get up and dip.”

“Fine, that’s cool. I can take that guy. Just me and my girlfriend,” Kevin said as he stroked his gun.

Vince knew that this would be his one chance to get away. He waited patiently, motionless, until Kevin left.

***

“Shit. I need a blunt,” James said out loud. He opened his glove box but it was empty, only the smell of sweet, sweet weed. He pulled a swisher down from the glasses compartment on the roof of the car, then reached into his sock and took his emergency sack out. A perfect bar was flipped and he proceeded to hit it, but before he could exhale Vince sprung into action. Vince wrapped his shoelace around James’ neck and pulled tight. James began coughing from lack of oxygen, or the dank smoke that was trapped inside his lungs. After a few minutes, James was still. Vince picked up the blunt and puffed a couple times before exiting the car.

***

Kevin stealthy approached the dark figure from behind and grabbed him in a sleeper hold. As soon as he made contact with the figure, his nostrils became packed with a devastating odor. A mixture of Old English and vomit. Immediately Kevin threw the person down and saw that it was just some bum stumbling around looking for bottles. Kevin ran back to the street in time to see Vince stepping onto the bus with a briefcase in his hand.