The Drop

So, recently, an ad caught my attention. Write a short story with a maximum of 2000 words and you could win $20,000. Of course, my mind went 'say no more' and I wrote a short story in one hour. As I was about to submit my entry, I realized that I had to pay $10 and provide my social security number and that's when I decided, let me research this company or whatever it was a little further. I found many people complaining about the website, so I immediately aborted the mission, but I was disappointed that I was stuck with a 2000-word limit short story. I have decided to share it with you guys so you can get a taste of my writing style. Enjoy...

The Drop

The Drop

I entered the pharmacy and was immediately knocked to the side by a tall, wiry man hurriedly leaving the establishment. A folded piece of paper fell from his hand, and he bent to pick it up. He turned his head to sneer at me without uttering so much as an apology. I disliked guys like him, that thought their ugly mug could easily scare or intimidate others around him, but I wasn’t the type of guy to cower or be easily intimidated especially today when my migraine was splitting my head in two. Anybody could get it!

“Hey! Watch it!” I snapped at him, then turned my back and made my way inside the pharmacy. I needed extra strength something…anything. I walked down the aisle with the over-the-counter drugs neatly assembled from top to bottom on the shelves and grabbed one of the boxes of extra strength Goody powder since I needed something to work fast. Then, I walked to the beverage coolers where I quickly selected one of the colas. I opened one of the Goody packets and emptied it in my mouth, downing it with some of the harsh soda that helped to nullify the bitter taste of the medicine.

Once I was finished, I caught the attendant at the register staring at me as if I was doing something criminal. I looked around. I was the only person inside the pharmacy who explained why the cutie with the piercing blue eyes, but furtive stare would home in on me.

“I plan on paying for it!” I snapped, throwing her a mean glare since my surly mood had not improved. She averted my stare and focused her attention on wiping her counter with a spritz bottle and a rag in hand. People like her aggravated me…acting as if they owned the place, they worked in. Do your assigned job and go home. If I wanted to rob the place, there was nothing her frail, skinny, body could do to stop me. However, lucky for her, I was…rehabilitated from that life. I was sure my muscular physique, tanned skin, and intricate tattoos on my bulging biceps made her feel otherwise…anxious.

Work was rough today. The construction site I was assigned to was wrought with a host of problems. No one could get anything right…not even the incompetent supervisor. That coupled with the searing heat from the sun, sent a migraine the size of the Indian Ocean tsunami my way. I held my forehead as I waited for the pain to subside even just a little. My phone began to vibrate. I pulled it from my back pocket and looked at the screen. It was the temp agency. I knew they were calling me with information about my next worksite, but I didn’t have a pen to take it down, so I headed toward the stationery section in the pharmacy. My eyes caught a little black book on the shelf, and I made my way to the register with it, resting the box of Goody powder and soda on the counter while talking to the young lady on the phone about my next work destination.

“One moment,” I told the girl, placing her on hold. “Got a pen, beautiful?” I sweetly asked the same blonde who was being a bitch earlier. She was obviously taken off guard by my sudden display of charisma and it amused me. She cracked a fake smile and handed me a pen.

“Ok, go ahead,” and I opened the book to write down the address of the site. However, the first page already had writing on it from ink that bled through for a previous page, and it was clear someone had ripped out the page before. I skipped the page and the ink had bled through to that page too. Clearly, someone had written in the book with likely a Sharpie. I skipped to the back and wrote down the address. “Thank you, angel,” I responded then hung up the phone. The Goody was working, and I was feeling like myself again. I returned the pen to the blonde and I took my wallet from my back pocket to pay for the items, setting the black book on the counter. The blonde rung up the soda and the box of Goody powder, but not the book.

“This too,” I informed her.

“Where did you get that? We don’t sell books like that,” she explained as she narrowed her eyes, staring at the book.

“In your stationery aisle,” I told her, motioning my head to the aisle where I found it. She took the small book and walked from behind the counter to the aisle trying to place the book but couldn’t seem to find anything remotely close to matching the book she was holding. I on the other hand was growing impatient. Eventually, she walked back to the register.

“You could exchange this for one of ours, but I can’t ring this up,” she told me handing me the book. I didn’t want to waste any more time.

“Look, I don’t care. Just ring up the rest of the items so I can be on my way.” The blonde looked a little insulted by my edgy tone and punched some buttons on her register.

“$5.99,” she said softly.

I swiped my bank card, “I don’t need a bag,” I said grabbing the items. She handed me the receipt and I was on my way out in a matter of seconds. I went to my green Ford truck and sat inside. I opened the book and stared at the address while keying it into my GPS. It would take me half an hour to get to the new site from my home and I prayed that I wouldn’t get caught in traffic. I picked up my half-empty box of cigarettes, took one out, and lit it so I could get my nicotine fix. I flipped the pages of the small book to the front. Even though the ink had bled through, I could make out the words clearly.

Money in duffle bag…

Corner of bus stop shelter

In front of Gen Mobile on 10th Street…5:00 p.m.

“What tha?!” I tapped my cigarette out the window and lifted the black book closer to my face to make sure I was seeing right…and yes, my eyes were not deceiving me. The information in the book detailed a pickup. I checked my watch…4:30. I could make it there, but I needed to get there before 5:00 and hoped the money would be there. I wasn’t even sure if the money would be there today. There was no date or day on the page, but I would be damned if I was privy to this information and ignored it.

I flicked my half-smoked cigarette outside my green truck and started the ignition, driving straight to 10th street. Once I got there, I parked on the opposite side of the street and looked around. I spotted the bus stop shelter. Two women were seated inside the shelter and appeared to be waiting for a bus. I tried to see if I could spot the duffle bag, but I didn’t see anything. I sighed out. Of course, there wouldn’t be anything there. That would be ludicrous! This wasn’t a James Bond movie…people didn’t leave duffle bags with cash lying around in public. I wanted to kick myself for being so gullible.

I checked my watch…4:48. I started the ignition and was about to drive off when I noticed a man walking to the bus stop shelter with a duffle bag. My heart picked up pace as I shut off the truck a second time to observe. He seemed agitated by the presence of the two women and didn’t seem to want to drop off the bag with them around.

“Braindead nitwit! Why would you decide to make the drop there?” I bitched to myself. Either these were some amateur fools, or this was some type of setup. A public transportation bus pulled up to the bus stop shelter at around 4:50 and the two women boarded the transportation before the bus drove off, leaving the man with the duffle bag. Again, he looked around and then placed the bag in the corner before walking in the opposite direction.

In my heart, I knew it was a setup. It had to be. There was nothing else to explain this hair-brained arrangement. I couldn’t just walk over there with my face exposed. What if they saw my truck? It was just a chance I had to take. I reached in the back and grabbed a hoodie and put it over my T-shirt. I also put on a pair of sunglasses that was hanging from my rearview mirror. I jumped out of my truck and made a beeline for the bus stop shelter. I quickly grabbed the duffle bag and lightly jogged back across the street to my truck. I didn’t wait a second. The engine chortled as I turned the key and sped off like the devil was chasing me, skidding my tires. I drove and kept driving. I didn’t care where I ended up, but I knew I needed to quickly be out of sight and out of mind in case anyone saw me.

I drove all evening until I spotted a lone motel off the side of the road next to a gas station and a junkyard. I drove inside the junkyard and parked. It was dim so I turned on the ceiling light. I grabbed the duffle bag from the passenger side of my car and zipped it open.

“Motherload!”

Inside the bag were wads of cash, neatly placed in stacks of hundred-dollar bills. I wiped my hand across my mouth in awe as I picked up one stack after the other. There was at least a million dollars inside the bag…at least! I had made plans to stay at the hotel, but I changed my mind. Whomever this money belonged to would be looking for it and I had to make sure they didn’t find me. I had a girlfriend but no kids… losing my girlfriend of six months was a small price to pay to abscond off the face of the Earth with over a million dollars. I alighted from the truck and stacked anything important from my truck into the duffle bag, including my .38 revolver. I pulled up my Uber app and ordered a ride to the nearest Greyhound Station. I didn’t care where I was going. I could close my eyes and point my finger on a map of the United States and wherever my finger landed, that would be my destination.

The Uber took about thirty minutes to show up. A mixed-looking chick with pretty brown skin waved at me with a broad smile on her face. I hopped in the back of a red Sedan silently without even acknowledging the woman. I figured she must have been really low on cash to be driving thirty minutes in the middle of nowhere to pick up a stranger. Well, tonight was her lucky night because she would get a hefty tip. She took me to the station, and I threw a stack of the hundred-dollar bills on her front seat along with my cell phone.

“Do me a favor and trash my phone, sweetie,” I instructed her. She took up the stack of cash and flipped through, then nodded her head and I exited the car. I entered inside the Greyhound, found a map, closed my eyes, and pointed.

I pointed right in Nevada, where I currently was.

“Screw that. I’m going to Virginia!”

In a few minutes, I was staring out the window of the Greyhound, headed to New York instead of Virginia with every intention of getting lost in the Big Apple with my newfound wealth.

The End