Stealing and Stolen

by Tommy Goricki

This book is dedicated to CJM, BGP, RAB, MPZ, IVD, RDMJ, CRB, SE, and NLQC. Thank you guys so much for putting up with me and being my friends. You all are wonderful

  Love, JTG

 

  Chapter 1

  Dear dad,

  I’m going to do it. Don’t try to follow me.

  -Juliette

  I put down my pencil and quietly left the place I had once called home. As I walked to the end of my street, I wondered whether I was doing the right thing. I had planned this for months. I carried my backpack with 4 pairs of clothes, toiletries, pens and paper, and 1,000 dollars in cash. I had waited until I got out of college with a degree to leave to find a job and a place to call my own. Now was my chance. The plane ticket was paid for and all I had to do was catch a cab to the airport.

  “Taxi,” I called out! A few seconds later a yellow taxi rushed around the corner and came to a neck breaking halt before me. I jumped in, told him the address of the airport, and we rode in silence.

  When we arrived, the driver turned to me and spoke in a dull tone, “That will be $180 miss.” I nodded and gave him what he asked for. Down to $820 I thought to myself. I would have to ration the money carefully.

  The airport was small but that was not important. I just needed an escape route. As I stood in line at security the person behind me started a conversation.

  “Hey, I’m Jeff.”

  “I’m Juliette. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you too. Where are you flying to?”

  “I’m going to Greece. What about you?”

  “Spain. Too bad we’re not on the same plane. I would have loved to have had a lady as beautiful as you sitting near me.”

  I blushed. I wasn’t used to getting compliments from people. I always had just tried to stay beneath the radar. I noticed a tattoo on his arm and was just about to ask what it was when I was called up.

  “Next!” The security guard beckoned me forward.

  I bumped into Jeff. I smiled and apologized before heading towards the metal detector. I walked through and the detector went off.

  “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to check your pockets and walkthrough again.” I nodded and felt through my pockets. Nothing. I strode through again and the detector made another little beeping noise. By this time I was very embarrassed and everyone behind me was talking in hushed voices. I felt a sharp pain in my waist and I pulled something out of the waist part of my jeans. It was a metal tracker. I quickly thought back to the last few minutes and I remembered Jeff bumping into me. Immediately, the tattoo clicked in my memory. It was a gang symbol that I had seen on the news. I turned toward him and sure enough, he was smiling to himself.

  “You little piece of poop!” I yelled.

  Jeff looked at me innocently and replied, “I can assure you I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  That’s it. I thought. I leaned over and gave Jeff the finger. Seemed like that was a bad idea though. Five minutes later, I was sitting in the airport holding area trying to explain myself.

  “But he put a metal tracker in my jeans! See?” I pulled the tracker out of my jeans and showed it to the main guard.

  The guard nodded and said, “Very well miss. Next time put the metal in the bins.”

  I sighed and walked out of the room.

  I rushed to get to my gate. As I ran, I saw a man working on a piece of art. “Good work, art man!”

  The man looked up, smiled, and called back, “You too, running girl!”

  I grinned and hastily boarded my plane.

  Luckily there were still five minutes left before the plane finished boarding. I got on the plane and went to my seat. I was right in front of a little kid and next to another man in his 30’s.

  “Hey! I’m Juliette. How are you this evening?”

  “Pretty good. And yourself?”

  “Eh. Nearly got stalked by a gang member and missed the plane, but other than that, pretty well.”

  The guy laughed and replied, “I’m Robert, by the way. Are you always this interesting? Or have you just exaggerated?”

  I thought back to my life and how prone to weird accidents I was. “I’m pretty sure I’m just good at finding trouble.”

  Robert laughed again. “Well, welcome to the club. When I was twenty three I stood outside of a mall and helped a tattooed muscular Mexican man get a soda out of a vending machine. As he thanked me, group of people came by and started threatening to beat me up if I hurt their friend. The guy reassured them, taught me an intricate handshake, then said, ‘If you ever need any help man, you call us and we’ll kill them for you.’ He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world and drove off on his motorcycle with all his buddies. And that’s how I accidently joined a Mexican gang.”

  I stared at him with a wide eyed expression and then roared with laughter. “You can’t be serious,” I sputtered.

  Robert looked at me with the most deadpan look and replied, “No one has ever bothered me again.”

  That made me laugh even harder, because I knew he was telling the truth. Robert laughed right along with me. Honestly, had we not been in seats, we would have been rolling on the floor like Draco Malfoy from A Very Potter Musical.

  The rest of the flight was great except for one part. The little kid behind us was named Johnny, which must have been short for tiny Satan because he wouldn’t stop screaming the whole time. Robert, at 3 hours into the trip turned around and spoke to the parents in a very harsh ‘I-don’t-take-any-crap’ voice.

  He said, “If you don’t make your little brat shut up, I will activate the emergency alarm, open the door, and throw him out of the plane.”

  The mum and dad seemed to get that he wasn’t kidding and silenced the kid. I whispered to Robert, “Or you could have your Mexican gang go after him.” Robert nodded, trying to hold in silent fits of laughter. He was really fun to entertain.

  After that eventful bit, I slept, talked, and watched movies until we landed in Athens, Greece.

  

  Chapter 2

  ONE YEAR LATER

  Greece. The most amazing place in the world. All the sights, smells, tastes, and memories you could make. I was currently in museum taking pictures. One of my hobbies was photography. There was this most amazing Greek urn that I had wanted to see for the longest time and here I was, standing before it at last. The urn was blue with copper engravings in Greek. It had a picture of Hades on it, symbolizing death and the underworld. I placed it at about 5 AD when it was made. I held my camera up, poised to take a picture when suddenly, the lights went off.

  There were a few screams and I was pushed around. “SOMEONE TURNON THE LIGHTS,” A security guard yelled!

  Someone nudged me and said, “Psst. Help me with this.” I was handed a large object and led over to an air vent and pushed through it. After a few moments of army crawling, I saw the lights flicker on in the museum. It was still too dark to see what I was holding though.

  I crawled until the voice said. “You can stop now.” A flashlight clicked on and I saw a handsome tan face with green eyes, “hipster” glasses, and black spiked hair. I looked down at what I was holding and saw it was the Greek urn I had been admiring just a few minutes ago.

  “Oh gods. Did we just steal this? Who are you?”

  The boy grinned, eyes sparkling, and replied, “I am a thief and proud. The name’s James. Who are you Princess?”

  “My friends call me Juliette. That’s because Juliette is my name.”

  James laughed and said, “To answer your question, we did, in fact, just steal that.”

  “WHAT. Why? What reason could you have to why we just stole that?!”

  “It’s for a good reason. I need to get my girlfriend back.
This is going to be a gift for her.”

  My face softened. "What happened?" Even though it was a messed up way to get her back, I still felt sorry for him.

  James had a wavery smile on his face as he spoke, “She said she needed space and we should see other people."

  "What was her name?"

  "Ashten. She was the most amazing person."

  "I'm really sorry," my face turned worried again. "Are we going to get caught? Am I an accessory in crime? I don’t want to go back to jail."

  “What?”

  “Just kidding. But I don’t want to get caught.”

  James shook his head and his sad expression dissipated. "If there’s one thing I know, it's stealing. Just follow me."

  He led the way out of the air vent and into the busy streets of Olympia, Greece. No one noticed the bulky black backpack James had slipped the urn in. We walked in silence and I kind of wanted to ask where we were going. I half jogged with him around the corner because he was faster than me and down the street to a blue house with white windows. James looked nervously at me and suddenly I knew it was his girlfriend’s house.

  I backed up behind the bushes so as to remain unseen. James smiled gratefully at me. He knocked on the door and a beautiful brunette opened the door. She was almost as tall as James. I guessed she was 5'6" and he was about 5'10". I was only 5' and a quarter inch. Ashten invited him inside. James presented her with the priceless ancient urn and she gasped. I thought that was a good sign until I saw what appeared to be her shouting at him. Ashten pointed towards the door and James walked out, leaving Ashten to slam the door shut after him.

  James saw me still crouching behind the bushes and remarked blandly, continuing to walk, "I bet you want to hear all about it now, don’t you."

  I hurried after him and responded, "Only if you want to tell me." I was secretly wishing he would tell me. I wondered about why she didn’t want that beautiful piece of artwork.

  He sighed, his eyebrows furrowed, and looked down at me. "She said I was a no good thief and that she wanted to stay away from me." He sat down on the bench he had been standing next to.

  I tentatively sat down next to him and commented, “I’m really sorry this didn't work out for you." I had only known him for about 20 minutes but he had that sort of persona that made me sensitive to his feelings.

  James snorted and raised one eyebrow at me. "So, you need a ride to wherever you're staying?" I nodded gratefully. I didn't really fancy going on a bus again. When I was on the bus this morning, it was dirty and a homeless man peed in the seat during his sleep which made it stink even more than it already did.

  We walked to where his car was (it was a black SUV) and climbed in. I gave James directions to the hotel I was staying at and he found the Mount Olympus Hotel pretty quickly. James followed me up to the clerk’s desk who had been holding the keys to my room for the day.

  In a British accent I said, “Hello, Juliette Creace, room G111." The clerk nodded and dug around for a little bit, trying to find my key and then handed it to me. I smiled a silent thanks and began climbing the stairs.

  James followed me up the steps, his face filled with awe, and questioned, “How did you do that?"

  "Do what?"

  "You talked in a different accent."

  "Oh. I checked in as British so I figured I should keep it up. I didn't tell you? I'm an excellent grifter, which in case you didn’t know, is a person who reads others and uses their body signals to respond to them.”

  James stared at me in amazement as I walked in my room. "Maybe I’ll see you around," I said as I politely shut the door in his still admiration filled face.

  I flopped in bed and thought about what had happened that day. It had started off as normal, then James had made it exciting. Truth be told, I was kind of bored with the same old same old, and James had taken me back to when I was a grifter. I put on my pajamas, which consisted of sweats and a t-shirt. I climbed into my comfy queen sized bed.

  

  Chapter 3

  I slept well that night. At 8:07 I awoke to the sound of knocking. I got up and answered the door in my grey sweatpants and oversized t-shirt.

  In came a radiant James. "Good morning my sapphire! I have an adventure planned today! Up up up!"

  I replied groggily," What? Where on Earth are we going? And I have to get dressed first and you're not staying to watch."

  James held up his hands as if to surrender and backed out of the room while saying, "Don't take too long!"

  I rolled my eyes and changed into black cargo pants and a cobalt blue quarter sleeved shirt. How’d he get in here? I wondered. I pulled my hair into a messy bun as I walked out the door. James grabbed my hand and dragged me down the stairs. I flung my room key at the clerk who caught it as I was led out the door.

  "What are we doing," I asked? James finally turned to face me and smiled mischievously.

  "A heist."

  "WHAT?!?" Oh gods. I finished going down that path a while ago. Nearly got caught, and that’s when I stopped. I wasn’t sure what James wanted me to do though, so I figured I would hear him out.

  "But this is good. The guy needs to be brought down. He’s hurting people and their families. Please Juli.”

  I glared at him and grumbled, “Fine. But you have to tell me what to do.”

  James told me his plan as we drove to this HUGE building that had a sign reading: Silvermiller's Art Gallery. Great. We were going to steal more art.

  James turned to me with a concerned expression and began to relate the story of why this art seller needed to be taken down. "Mister Michael Silvermiller is the manager and sole owner of this establishment. He talks to families looking to sell their priceless heirlooms to make extra money and then rips them off. And I don't mean doesn't pay them as much as they deserve. He doesn't pay them at all. He'll ask for proof that they sold to him and since the 'customers' didn't get a receipt, there's not exactly much they can do. Most people just leave him alone after that. But if they don't, he sends guys to seriously injure them. They don’t mess with him after that. We have to give them their rightful money Juli.”

  I nodded to show I understood. I was supposed to be acting the beautiful Duchess. I had the acting part down, but it was the beauty section I wasn’t sure about. I walked inside Silvermiller’s Art Gallery, camera in hand and ready for action. It was decently crowded in there but I was spotted by Mr. Silvermiller almost immediately.

  James had given me a fancy red shirt, black slacks and jewel encrusted rings so I would look rich. Mr. Silvermiller walked up to me and flashed me with a dazzling smile. He was a trustworthy sort of looking man but I, being a skilled grifter, could see that it was all a façade.

  He asked in his most charming voice, “I am Mr. Michael Silvermiller, owner and manager of this lovely gallery,” He had a silky smooth voice that seemed to work well in his line of business because he was dressed very nicely. “What is your name beautiful?”

  Well, apparently I did have the beauty section down. I answered in my best English accent, “I am Duchess Maria of Eastleigh. Very pleased to make your acquaintance…. May I call you Michael?” Whoop-Dee-doo for flirting. I hate James.

  Silvermiller replied coyly, “Of course…Maria.” I forced myself to blush. “Do you see anything you are interested in?”

  I pretended to look admiringly around the room and then answered,” Not at the moment, no. But I have a very valuable piece of artwork that I would like to sell you.”

  Silvermiller’s eyes lit up like a pumpkin on Halloween. “May I see it?”

  I looked around. “Well, it’s too risky to present it to you here. Can we set up a meeting somewhere?”

  Silvermiller looked hungrily at me and replied, “Of course. How about Athena’s down the street in an hour?”

  I smiled and agreed sweetly. Silvermiller shook my hand and I departed. James was standing outside when I walked through the doors and back into the warm summer air. I relayed
all the information to him and asked him where Athena’s was.

  “It’s about five minutes’ walk from here.” We started for the car and hopped in. Well, James did. I climbed clumsily in after him as I wasn’t really used to wearing heels.

  We drove to Athena’s and waited in the parking lot for Silvermiller. James had already shown me the “Van Gogh” that we were supposed to selling him. It didn’t look fake. All the brush strokes were consistent with Van Gogh’s other work. I would have believed James had stolen it had it not have been for one tiny problem.

  “James, there is no signature.”

  “Please tell me you’re joking,” James gasped with wide eyes.

  “I’m not.”

  “Oh gods. What are we going- wait. Do you think you can forge it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Please Juliette.”

  “I’ll try.” I’d only forged a couple of things in my life, like field trip forms. I had been practicing, but I wasn’t sure I could do it that well.00000