Chapter 7

It was a sunny day and a blue sky this time of year was a rarity to enjoy. Eric stood beside a lamppost and scanned the place. Parked cars dotted the empty street on both sides. 

 And there it was, an old Toyota; not very flashy but still in good condition. Did it have an alarm? 

 He leaned his back against the vehicle; nothing happened. Facing the street, he kicked the door. The Toyota remained quiet. 

The car was painted over, and yellow peeked out here and there where the new blue coat flaked. He took a long flat piece of steel out of his jacket and slid it into the narrow slot between the glass and the metal in the door. After some fiddling, the lock clicked open. He was ready to scram at the first sound of the alarm, but the car didn't make a sound. He jumped in and looked around; the street was still vacant.

 Crouching down, he fumbled with the car's wiring. He stripped a blue and a red wire and connected them. A small sparkle jumped in the air, and the engine roared. A triumphant smile spread across his face.

 When he sat up, the passenger door opened, and a redhead woman jumped in. "Hello, Eric." 

 He grabbed the door handle, ready to bolt but recognized her. "Natalie?" 

 "In the flesh."

 "I thought you were still in jail."

 "Surprise! They let me out. Now drive."

 "Huh?"

 "Hit the gas or he gets you!" She pointed at the window behind him.

Eric looked up; a large man was standing beside the vehicle, staring at him. 

"What the hell are you doing? Get out of my car!" He banged on the window and then tried to open the door. But Eric held the handle, pressed on the gas, and turned the steering wheel. 

"Drive! Drive!" Natalie shouted and laughed.

The man had opened the door halfway." Stop! Stop!"

But Eric sped up, and he had to let go after a few steps. 

 "Come back here, you bastard!" he yelled in vain. 

 Eric shut the door.

 "That was fun!" She turned back and looked at the large man, standing in the middle of the street.

 "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

 "Grumpy." 

 "You distracted me. I could be caught." He said, glaring at her.

 "Relax. Why didn't he just open the door right away and grab you?"

 "I don't know."

 He turned into an alley and stopped the vehicle. "What do you want, Natalie?"

 "You must do it," she said after a short hesitation. 

 "Do what?"

 "Anton is in prison. For life."

 "I know."

 "I need to hire some real lawyers to get him a rich man's justice."

"I thought you were rich. A rich spoiled girl, playing Bonnie and Clyde with Anton. But the game got a little too serious for yah, didn't it?"

 "My parents were rich, not me. Nothing's left of their money, and whatever I did, I did for Anton."

 "Sure! It was all for love! Please! You get a kick out of stealing crap and shooting people. Middle-class lifestyle is too boring for you." 

 She shrugged. "Fine, I don't wanna be a soccer mom. It's no fun."

 He guessed where this was going and opened the passenger door. "Get out. The answer is no."

 "I need that money. We can do a job together. I'll be set and get out of your hair."

 "I don't have anything for you. Out." 

 "You don't?" She raised her eyebrows.

 "No." 

"So you've just been demoted from an armed robber to a car thief. And a thief of shitty cars, for that matter?" 

 "Yes." He nodded.

"From what I see, this is a 'getaway car' for a job. Something not flashy but practical which you can toss away when you're done."

 "What I do or don't is none of your business. Now get out." He opened the passenger door again.

 "You owe us!" She pointed her finger at him.

 "I don't owe you a damn thing."

 "You owe Anton. He told me to tell you that." 

The short sentence hit him hard. It touched an old wound that had not healed properly and still bothered him. Did Anton tell her? It wasn't like him to do that.

He bit his lip and stared at the alley. 

 "So, you're gonna do it?" After a couple of minutes, she broke the silence, speaking as softly as she could. 

"Give me your number. I'll think about it." 

She wrote her number on a piece of paper, put it in the glove compartment, and got out of the car. 

 ***

 The shower was running. Eric drew the curtain and threw his towel on it. He liked to shower in the early morning when it was least crowded. The drops of water bounced off his body and glistened under the fluorescent light.

 One of the inmates pushed back the curtain and stood in front of him. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Eric covered his penis with his hands.

He had seen the man before. He stared at him in the prison yard, in the dining hall, but Eric ignored him. He knew what the prisoner wanted.

"Relax, you're gonna enjoy it." The convict winked at him and grinned.

 "Guard! Guard!" He shouted from the top of his lungs.

 "He's gone." The inmate punched him in the face, and the sheer force of the trauma brought him to his knees. Eric tried to get back on his feet and fight him off. But a second blow came and numbed his limbs altogether. 

 The man put a shank to his throat; a burnt toothbrush with a razor stuck to one end. "You move, you die."

 The blade broke his skin, and a streak of warm blood ran down his neck. He was right if that thing nicked Eric's artery, he would die in a minute or two.

 But he didn't care about death. Anything was better than what was going to happen. If only he could get on his feet...

 He felt his arms and legs again. His head still pulsed, but his limbs were coming back to him. He decided to wait a few seconds until he was ready and then jump the man. But waiting was a mistake.

The prisoner kicked him in the stomach and his diaphragm paralyzed. Eric gasped for air, and everything around him descended into a haze. Water poured down on him, and steam filled the air. The man pushed him down on his face and dropped his pants. His smile revealed a row of white teeth…

Then he screamed in pain and fell to the ground next to Eric. Anton was standing beside him and kicked him in the ribs.

 ***

Eric parked the car a few blocks away from his home in a garage. A few days back, he had rented the place under a fake name and paid cash.

After that day in the showers, no one bothered him again—not that prisoner or anyone else. A friendship grew between him and Anton. From time to time, he sat down with the big guy in the yard, chatted, and shared a laugh or two. It was his first time inside. He felt secure with Anton, and the loneliness of the prison weighed less. 

Eric was released a year before him. 

When Anton was out, Eric saw him once or twice with Natalie. And didn't like what he saw. A spoiled girl, bored with her nice life, looking for some adventure. Adrenaline rush.

 The feeling was mutual. She didn't like him either, and between him and Natalie, Anton chose her.

When he arrived home, poured himself a drink and slumped back in his chair. 

The phone rang.

 "Yes?" He picked up the receiver.

 "You have a call from the state penitentiary, do you accept the charges?" A woman said in a monotonous voice.

 "Yes, I accept."

 A few seconds passed in silence then a man said, "Hi, Eric."

 "Anton?"

 "Yeah, it's Anton. Remember me?"

 "Yes. I remember you."

 "Natalie came to visit me today, and I told her to contact you. You needed help once; I provided. Now I need your help."

 "How did you get this number?"

 "I have my ways. You know that."

 Eric wanted to hang up. This wasn't his problem, and he didn't want to get involved with Natalie. " You know…"

Then it flashed in front of his eyes again;

The showers were running; the steam had filled the air. The inmate sneered and revealed a row of white teeth…

 He sighed and finished his sentence. "I'll think about it. Don't call me again."

 Then hung up and chugged down his drink.