Heist

by Kezzy Sparks

  “Get out now,” she starts a lunge, but I back away.

  “Okay bye,” I mutter.

  My journey wasn’t to come here for a fight, and I won’t let that happen. Eve is already hurt anyway, and I don’t want to cause her further pain. She might end up calling police, and that will be a mess.

  “I’m leaving,” I say as I reach the door.

  The visit didn’t yield instant rewards, but I, however, did glean something from her responses. Eve has a clue about what’s going on, although she isn’t herself the Lady in Red.

  One of these days we will find a way to make her talk.

  Twenty-six

  Casey is surprised it’s now two p.m. when he stands up from the reading room. The subject he researched on was vast, with many branches, and he’d never imagined he would take so much time. Tina, that workmate of his who always spoke of magic and supernatural occurrences, was always right; the books confirmed that. Evil witches and warlocks sure exist. And they can do some very bad things, as his current troubles can show.

  The only sad thing about the whole exercise was that he was unable to discover a quick remedy that could restore him back in an instant. He therefore must wait upon the likes of Mel and crew to do the best they can. They are the pros, although they don’t seem to work the way olden day witch hunters he read of used to—roaming the lands openly, sniffing for wrongdoers, and bringing them to court. Everything has now gone underground.

  His trip wasn’t about the library alone, and there are some other important things to do. He now has to go and pick up the rental car he booked for the wedding. It will make running errands faster.

  His most trusted leasing company is Hertz, and their outlet on South Park has served him well over the last few years. The place is walkable from the library.

  He gets out and crosses Lafayette, then trudges all the way down to South Park. The air is hot and, depending on where he is passing at any given moment, alternately smells of cigarettes, ladies’ perfume, coffee, or fries and wings.

  This area isn’t by any means new to him, but today is the first time he walks these roads without feeling anything lively in his pants. He makes eye contact with several women; just a ritual, nothing could ever come out of it even if he tried, which of course he isn’t going to.

  “Cheer up Casey, it’s not the end of life.” He tells himself.

  After a while, he arrives. The rental office is situated in a small industrial-like building that’s built next to the bigger Seneca Buffalo Creek Casino. The inside is gold and black, and the preppy-looking woman who smiles him a welcome, is dressed in almost the same colors.

  The formalities of showing a license, signing a form, and surrendering credit card details are something he is used to. He must accept insurance coverage, for he has none of his own.

  “You will find her in the lot. She is a gorgeous,” the Hertz woman speaks of the Chevy Impala as though it were a lady, a very fine lady.

  Casey flirts with the keys as he leaves the office to find the Impala. Life without a car, anyway for these past couple of years, is a self-inflicted punishment. He was once the proud owner of a Jeep Wrangler, but he totally wrecked it while driving under the influence—a criminal accident he wriggled out of by use of clever lawyers. Yet even though the accident didn’t maim him, he swore not to own a car for the next three years, at least.

  True to its design, the Chevy royally ushers him into its pristine interior, the leather seats and fine plastic and chrome trim. Everything smells like new, and he inhales that scent of fresh paint, rubber, and other synthetics. It all fills him with glowing images of a man headed in some important direction, but nothing could be further from reality.

  He plays around with the levers. Before he can turn the engine on, his phone buzzes. It’s Megan.

  “Casey, where are you? I must see you.”

  “I’m right here downtown. What’s up?”

  “Lots, I just got a call. You must hear this.”

  “Excellent, from who?” he says, though his heart jumps a beat.

  “One Sue Ann Marie. Says she was once a college acquaintance of mine.”

  “Good, so were you guys touching bases?”

  “Not exactly. She says she's now a psychic.”

  Casey's heart races. Why would a psychic call Megan? He says nothing, though; perhaps this call should just end.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me what she said?”

  Casey grunts. “What did she say?”

  “That the wedding may go fine but not the honeymoon.”

  Shock ripples through him. This Sue Ann Marie is linked to the case and knows everything. Did she tell Megan something? A tight feeling grips him for an instant. “Your friend is crazy. We will be fine,” he says, scared about what’s to come.

  “I didn't say she was my friend,” Megan counters. “But hey, look, you’ve been avoiding me since yesterday.”

  “Megan, love, understand. Nothing will come between you and me.”

  She mutes herself for a bit, then says. “You want to know more of what she said?”

  “What again?” His lungs clench with arrested breath.

  “That you have been changed.”

  “Changed, really?” Casey trembles; it’s a miracle he is able to hold on to his phone. “How would I be changed?”

  “That somehow you no longer have any capacity or something like it.”

  Sweat smears his palms fast. The phone almost slips away. “I don’t know about that.” He breathes hard. “Megan don’t get superstitious. Leave that damn psychic alone.”

  “I cut her off long ago, but I have to see you.”

  “Of course…Of course, darling you can.” He almost chokes on his words. “Just…just say where.”

  “I’m coming home, be there.”

  “Yes, yes.” Casey sighs. Now is the real beginning of trouble.

  Twenty-seven

  After sneaking out of his former lover, E’s, home, Tyler Skinyard drives to the gym with the pink case in his backpack. Once there, he realizes he shouldn’t spend as much time as he had initially planned. Things have just turned out miraculously great. A Wednesday that had started so routinely has suddenly turned into a magic dick day.

  “Eazie E, go fuck yourself; I am never coming back,” he says.

  Truth is he has gotten himself something he wanted all his life long, and things are now going to change. And there are far better women out there: actresses, students, videographers. This penis he discovered just suits him.

  After the quick workout, he takes to the baths and showers leisurely. He gazes at his crotch. This is the last time he is his normal self, because when he gets home and unwraps the steal, he would attach it. And then boom, a new man emerges completely.

  Honestly, a spell of good luck like this deserves quick action to yield best results. By the end of tomorrow, he should be in Vegas. He has always wanted to do the Vegas thing, and he would arrive there big. From there on, maybe just a few months down the line, it would be straight to Hollywood. He’d be the greatest star in adult entertainment.

  He stops the water running and darts to the lockers to dress himself up. The bulging backpack is there on the top shelf where he put it—it hasn’t disappeared, thank God for that.

  Two very crucial things need be executed today. The first would be to change his phone number, and the second, to not sleep in his apartment. He doesn’t know the kind of shitstorm E might raise, so it’s smart to be cautious and not be where she could easily find him.

  He guides his Saab to a Verizon outlet on Delaware Street, and then parks. He slings his backpack onto his shoulders—not to be fastidious—but he just can’t trust anyone not to break in and steal it.

  “Give me the best phone you got,” he says to the young guy behind the counter.

  The Verizon store is clean and decently looked after, giving that image of infinite new possibilities, similar to what you’d get should you walk into an airport lounge. The
pot lights glow, lending the displayed phones a sparkle that traps the eye. Grab me and take me home with you, every one of the cool gadgets seems to beckon in a dazzle of scintillating rays.

  There are several models to choose from, some iPhones, a couple of Samsungs, a few LGs, a variety of Huaweis, plus also the whole range of Lumias and then Google Pixels. In the end he settles for a Lumia; he has always loved anything with a Microsoft touch in it.

  “Good choice,” says the young man.

  “You are right,” he says, but he isn’t done yet. “I also will need to change my line please, and this one you can cancel.” He takes out his SIM from the old phone and hands it to the clerk.

  “Sure, I can do that for you.”

  After he tests his new phone, he tosses the old one to the clerk. “Recycle or trash, your choice.” Just his old life passing away.

  “You are good to go, sir,” the young clerk thanks him.

  Tyler grabs the box with invoices and manuals and stuffs it into his backpack. The new phone finds its way into his pocket, then he walks back to his Saab. No one must know what’s in the backpack. No one should ever suspect the heist.

  ***

  Much later on, he is back in his hood. His dingy bachelor pad is in an apartment building on Marine Drive, not so far from the lake. Instead of using the elevator, Ty is feeling so good he takes the stairs. His unit is all the way to the tenth floor and he sweats by the seventh, but that is fine.

  He doesn’t see anyone in his hallway, but some loud Jamaicans are playing their reggae music. It’s possible they are smoking pot, too, for he catches a whiff of it. The smell doesn’t bother him much because he has occasionally puffed it himself. Actors get involved in pretty much everything that goes on.

  He unlocks his unit and enters. There is one important hurdle to clear before he starts packing his necessities into his travel cases. Would he be able to easily snap that thing onto himself like E did this afternoon? Perhaps he mightn’t be able. Maybe the thing needs a woman’s magic hands to make it stick, but he will see about that.

  Like hell he is now hungry, but food can come later. This is the time to make the first try as far as attaching it goes.

  He fetches the backpack. Is the thing still in there—yes, it is—in the same pink case of Eazie E’s. He makes sure his door is properly locked, and then he comes back to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He lowers them and then kicks away his undies as well. The pink case feels heavy; it’s sure loaded. He opens and then grabs…

  Snap, the cock attaches without a hustle. And the action wasn’t painful, just like a tap in the groin. The dick fits perfectly. He is as awesome as those mighty men in adult flicks.

  Unfortunately for now, though, it doesn’t get hard no matter how he strokes it. That’s no big deal. All it needs is just a woman’s touch.

  Pity he has no steady girlfriend currently, but there is Nikki, this porn star and hooker he has worked with. He will call her, but that will only be for later. For now, he just wants to enjoy the fact the biggest headache in life is gone. He checks himself again and loves the sudden enormity.

  Packing and all must begin, but hey, why not just go ahead and book a hotel room first. It makes sense, because for certain symbolic reasons he wants a room that faces a certain direction, and if he delays, those could be gone. Vegas, to the west of here!

  And because today is special, he will try only those hotels downtown; nothing else other than those will do. Seriously, what could beat standing on a balcony right in the middle of town and say goodbye, see you again?

  He shoves a hand into his pocket feeling for his new phone. Happiness is blinding him, the old phone representing the old life is gone; the spankin’ new Lumia smiles coolly. The gadget has an exquisite navy-blue body and a beautiful pale-cream face. There is of course a camera; he can see the lens.

  This is a historic moment, and ideas keep popping in his head. Maybe before anything else, he should take some pictures of his new self in his naked glory. Another glance at his groin confirms the pics are going to be phenomenal.

  Ecstatic, he turns the phone on, paces it through the rest of the setup process that the Verizon clerk skipped, and then immediately he begins to snap. This fucking dick dangling on his crotch is huge. And it’s his by discovery. He won’t be taking it off again—it will stay on him forever.

  “You have found a new home, buddy.” He glances at it as he tosses Eazie E's pink box toward the door. “You are never going into a stupid case again.”

  That unneeded pink trash will find itself falling down the chute when he leaves. Already Tyler can see far into the future, all those warm pussies that are to come his way. Starting with Nikki tonight.

  After the nude shoot, it’s time to snag the hotel suite.

  “Only west facing,” he says to the booking clerk.

  “No, problem sir,” she answers. “I will get one for you. Smoking or nonsmoking?”

  “I’m fine with whatever,” he says, “only that it should look where I told you.”

  As the hotel rep notes down some things, Tyler takes a moment to gaze at his walls, longing for a quick departure. Once he goes out that door, he is never coming back.

  The room is booked, in a prestigious place downtown, so now is the time to call the actress hooker.

  “Nikki, are you there?”

  “Yes, Ty, you got something for me?”

  “I need to shoot a demo with you tonight.”

  “Cool. I have no gigs, and I’m not on my periods.” She laughs a little.

  He smirks to himself. “Fantastic, shall we meet downtown, then?”

  “No problem.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” He cheers, and then adds. “Now for a start, why don’t I send you a couple of dick selfies?”

  “Hold on Ty, don’t do that yet.”

  “Why not, Nikki, why?”

  “Because you're not my boyfriend,” she says. “Between you and me it’s only business sex.”

  Fucking bitch. He is going to show it to her.

  “Alright, Nikki. Just come.”

  Twenty-eight

  From the Hertz place, Casey still has more on his plate. The wedding planner has done quite some legwork, but Casey must do his part. He must go and pick up his team’s tuxes from the supply outlet.

  The one they chose is the David’s Bridal at the Dipson McKinley Mall, right there in the Blasdell area. Once there, an eager woman welcomes him, and she already has his order in place. His tux’s fit could not be more perfect.

  “You look absolutely lovely,” the young woman, squinty of eye, and with severely pulled back hair, says. “Perfect for the aisle, perfect for the runway.”

  Her spiel is not out of place, but the moment she mentions ‘runway’ something jabs at Casey. It’s a word he wasn’t expecting, and he wonders if it doesn’t awaken something that’s already simmering in his subconscious: to just run away from it all.

  “Thank you,” he mutters dutifully.

  After this, he cruises to check out the wedding band’s song rehearsals. This appointment is one he made without Megan involved, and so he could have cancelled it without her knowing, but he just thought to go.

  In the basement where the band practices, he is offered a whiskey to sip while he listens and watches. He says, “No, I’m sworn off drinks till Sunday.” Truth is he doesn’t want to be reminded of that Monday night episode with the Lady in Red.

  With all the thickening traffic, it isn’t any wonder then that it’s almost six when he turns onto Dick to get home.

  The activities provided a useful distraction, but now he is back to where this whole saga began. Mel phoned long ago to say that her locate process had not yielded quick fruits, but she has hope that in the next few days something might come up. “I hope she succeeds,” he whispers.

  He parks right inside the garage and then exits. Before he has a chance to sit, a sound of a car arriving floats into his ears. The engine purr is one of a Mazda 3
. His heart pounds.

  Megan never knocks. She always jumps right in if the door is unlocked.

  “Helloo.”

  “Hi.”

  Ominously, she wears a pink silk blouse and white denim shorts, both fashion items being so figure hugging, she quietly screams Kiss me, Casey, and take me straight to bed. Her perfume is overpowering as she flies into his arms.

  “Yes, sweetie, long time no see,” she coos, then presses her breasts onto his chest.

  He checks her. She is happy to see him, same as he is, but there is a lingering darkness on her face that says all is not well, something no amount of perky smiling can hide.

  “Thanks for thinking about me, and calling,” he says, trying to put as much passion into his words as possible.

  “Don’t say that, Casey. You know I missed you.”

  “I know, honey, honestly I do,” he replies while disengaging from her arms. “And I will make it up to you.”

  Instantly as if by magic, they hug again, and he inhales that overpoweringly attractive scent once more.

  “I just had to come,” she says again. “Jesus, it’s been days.”

  “I know, I know.” With a bit of added choreography on his part, they finally uncouple. He folds himself onto the couch, and Megan sits beside him, resting a hand on his lap.

  “You are looking very good,” Casey offers tentatively.

  “Thanks for saying that,” she mutters, and then gives him a quizzing glance. “You didn’t make rehearsals last night.”

  A pang rises from Casey’s belly, swelling to his chest. Can he lay everything out? Even though Mel is trying her best, it doesn’t look like a miracle could happen. “Yesterday was just crazy. Let’s forget about it,” he offers.

  “Couldn’t your bosses find someone else to send to Albany?” She persists. “Like I told you, practicing with Jeff felt so awful. God, you should have come, Casey. It felt like cheating.”

  “You know how it is with jobs.” He aims for the first part of her question. “They couldn’t find anyone.”

  “So tomorrow you'll make it.”