The Jump Journal

by Douglas Corriveau

  “So, you’re probably hoping for an explanation.”

  “That would be nice, yeah.”

  Nicolae laughed, a deep melodic sound that was still shocking coming from his cartoon-quality appearance. Without another word, he bounced away, singing the Mick Jagger song “You Can’t Always Get What You Want”.

  With no real options, I settled in for a few hours of sleep at the Red Door Lounge, like everyone else in Nicolae’s gang seemed to be doing. I hated that I didn’t know what was going on, but like a siren song, the memory of the diamonds’ cold weight in my hands cascaded over my worries and confusion, and I drifted off to sleep without the slightest clue what to expect for the day ahead.

  Chapter 12

  I woke to sounds of activity echoing around the empty club. I had no way of telling time, but the sunlight streaming in through the sole window in the joint suggested that it was sunset. As I rubbed my eyes to get the gunk out of them, I scanned the room warily. The events of the previous night had robbed me of any naïve ideas that Nicolae had my best interests at heart, but the ghost of my “get rich quick” fantasies persuaded me to stay. No threats revealed themselves to me as I groggily shambled to a vertical position, aching in muscles that I hadn’t remembered that I possessed. Nicolae’s ragtag groupies were striding about the club with a purpose, silently focused on their preparations for…..well, whatever it was that we were doing. I couldn’t shake the mental image of a beehive; mindless drones pursuing their tasks for the sake of their blond-and-blue haired male queen.

  Speaking of, Nicolae was perched in his loft, lounging in the same spot where he had inducted me into this bizarre team. He caught my stare, grinned lazily and gestured for me to make my way up. At least, that’s what I thought until a hand with the size and compassion of an industrial vise clamped itself on to my shoulder from behind and the man it belonged to started marching me forward towards the staircase. Joe, who despite his size had managed to get within arm’s reach of me without my knowledge, clearly felt it was his duty to bring me to Nicolae. I figured it was wise to avoid angering the human bulldozer, so I just went along for the ride.

  Nicolae smiled wanly at his mute enforcer.

  “Thanks, Joe. Give Lydia a hand, would you?” He shook his head behind Joe’s back as the wall of muscle wandered off in Lydia’s direction.

  “Interesting guy, Joe. Just when you think he’s developed a personality….” He shook his head again.

  I searched for something to say, but the developments of the night before, not to mention a few shots, had left my sparkling wit a bit lagging. Still, I tried.

  “Um….-“

  “You’re wondering what’s going down today. I get it.”

  That’s what I meant? Oh good. I was glad he knew what I didn’t.

  “Yeah, I’m a little…hazy…on the details.”

  Nicolae leapt to his feet and spun around the stair railing like he was in “Singing in the Rain”.

  “Well! Not to worry, kiddo, you’ll have the best instructor in the business. And might I say, one of the best looking as well.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows in a self-satisfied manner, and I could see where he was going with this.

  “The one and only….Joe!”

  My own eyebrows shot up. Whoops. Maybe I didn’t see that coming. The disbelief was starkly evident on my face, and I made no attempts to disguise it. Nicolae noticed, of course.

  “Oh, you’ll be fine. He’s not a big talker, but he’s actually a great teacher. After all, they say it’s best to learn from watching.” He hesitated. “At least I think that’s a thing. He trained Jonas, and that worked out great!”

  I hadn’t met Jonas. I pointed this out to Nicolae.

  “Oh yeah, Jonas…um…,” Nicolae furrowed his brow in the search for the perfect words. “He screwed up a few…..well, once, I guess…..Joe’s a great teacher, you’ll be fine!”

  And with that inspiring vote of confidence, he sauntered away to talk to Lydia and Rathbone, leaving me to realize once again that I hadn’t gotten any straight answers from that puzzling individual. I didn’t have too long to process that conversation before Joe once again popped up out of nowhere and dragged me into the club’s backrooms like a parent pulling a sullen child. He came to a stop so quickly that my momentum walked me straight into his back, but he was so solid that I bounced off and landed with a thud on my tailbone. I don’t think he even noticed.

  Joe searched through what looked like gym lockers with an expression I can only describe as dull. Honestly, that might be giving him a little too much credit. He looked like a bald ape. I wasn’t about to say anything, though; It’d just take one casual punch to turn my face inside out like a Looney Tunes character. Instead, I tried to sneak a peek around his immense frame at the contents of the lockers, but with no success. I shouldn’t have bothered. Seconds later, Joe wheeled around and tossed a soft bundle at me. Mutely, he waved his baseball glove of a hand at me, gesturing for me to do something with it. I reached in and felt clothing. I assumed that meant that the behemoth wanted me to change into whatever outfit this was. As my hand skimmed the tough fabric in the bag, I felt a softer, smaller item. I pulled it out, and immediately gulped.

  It was a ski mask.

  ****

  I emerged from the bathroom stall in the club’s restroom and was met with a stranger in the mirror. Literally. Under the old Army forest camo and ski mask, I could have been any average male on the street. There was nothing distinct or memorable about my individual features; even my body type would be hard to guess through the amorphous image created by the loose fitting fatigues. I figured that was the point.

  You know how I had been excited the night before? Yeah. That was gone.

  I could only hope now that whatever that coded language of Nicolae’s had meant, whatever we were doing, was only somewhat illegal. The second that I emerged from the restroom, I was bumped, shoved, and otherwise shepherded out the door and into an unmarked black van. Joe settled heavily into the driver’s seat, and I’m pretty sure the van groaned weakly in protest. At this point, my heart rate was nearing light speed and my ski mask was soaked with sweat. Joe fired up the engine and pulled out onto the street in front of the club at what felt like a snail’s pace. I was used to time’s normal progression; scratch that, I was even used to time’s abnormal progression, but I had never experienced this surge of fear and adrenaline. I had no idea what I was doing or what was going to happen, only that I really shouldn’t be doing it. All that pent-up thinking circled ‘round and ‘round my skull at a furious pace, turning the world sluggish in comparison.

  Through the window, I noticed that we were heading out of the heart of the city and into the combination of small businesses and nice apartments. I glanced at the dashboard clock, and pulled a double-take. We’d been on the road for an hour, but in my panicked state, I hadn’t noticed. Joe parallel parked along the sidewalk and let the van idle. His face was a TV that only carried one channel, so I didn’t even bother looking for an explanation there. I decided to scan our surroundings and figure out what the hell we were doing here.

  This was clearly the nice part of town. The sidewalks were rich red brick constructions, with solid granite curbs. All of the shops looked as though they could be featured in Colonial history books, beautifully restored and clearly marketed as remnants of a more elegant time. If I had to guess, a lot of this area’s money flowed through an almost tourist-like economy, with vacationers in New York coming to take photos of the area and pay exorbitant amounts for key-chains and souvenirs. I had a feeling Nicolae wasn’t here to sightsee, though. Speaking of the bizarre devil himself, I noticed a familiar flash of blue and blonde hair through the windshield of a slick Cadillac parked across from our van a ways down the street.

  A car rumbled by and I jerked violently, my focused attention broken. My heart rate started to rise again and I clawed desperately for the eerie calm that I’d possessed a second ago. Nice sidewalks, pretty bui
ldings, Nicolae in the Cadillac under the breakfast place…breakfast place. Why was that of all things sticking out to me? It wasn’t that remarkable, just an average diner. Wait, there was something. My mind hurt, and thinking this hard wasn’t helping. Breakfast, diner, diner lingo, funny words……oh damn. I heard Nicolae’s strange words to the crew last night in my head.

  “Bogey’s got a glass of water on the next train out to Pleasantville. If we can stop for breakfast-“

  Stop for breakfast. At the diner, in the nice part of town. Nice enough to be nicknamed Pleasantville, where someone is drinking a glass of water….this was ridiculous. The adrenaline was making me crazy. Joe must have noticed my twitchiness, because he favored me with a slight turn of his head, demonstrating his concern by not changing his expression an iota. The sound of a car door opening drew his attention away from me. Across the street, Nicolae was exiting his car, glancing up towards the sky. His gaze seemed too direct to just be cloud-watching. I hunched over in my seat to follow his eyes. The sun was barely staying above the horizon, but it still cast enough light to make me squint. A quick reflection of light on a nearby roof revealed the focus of Nicolae’s stare, and I could just make out Lydia and Rathbone with what looked like binoculars. They were peering down in the road in the direction that Joe and I had come from. I got another tickle in the back of my mind, something about binoculars…….bird-watching.

  “Lydia and Rathbone, you’ve got bird-watching-“

  Rathbone waved a gloved hand down to Nicolae, who returned a mock salute, leapt casually onto the hood of the Cadillac, and pulled on a ski mask. Another rumble started gently from outside the van as a large vehicle came toward our position from behind. Joe tapped my shoulder with some urgency. I got the message: “Get ready.” At the same time, another van just like ours was approaching rapidly from the front. Too rapidly. I caught a glimpse of a clash of red sitting in the driver’s seat.

  “Scarlet: The A-team-“

  Scarlet slammed on the brakes, twisting the van into a controlled drift that swung the vehicle perpendicular to the narrow street. I heard the screech of brakes, but not just from Scarlet’s van. A massive armored car slammed ungracefully to a stop right outside my window, barely avoiding a direct collision with Scarlet’s improvised blockade. The side of the sturdy-looking vehicle had a logo with the armored transport company’s name painted onto the side, but I only remember the logo: an old-school steam engine.

  “Bogey’s got a glass of water on the next train-“

  I hadn’t realized that I’d been holding my breath. We were robbing an armored truck?! Apparently so, because Joe grabbed me by the collar and hauled me out into the chaos.

  As soon as my feet hit solid ground and stayed there, Joe let go and sprinted toward the back of the transport, waving at me to follow. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears as I raced to catch up. I’m pretty sure that my only cohesive thought was along the lines of “ohgodohgodohgodohgodi’mgonnadie,” or something along those lines. Joe gestured for me to mirror him on the opposite side of the armored truck’s rear double doors. He tossed me something glittering and metallic, but as I fumbled to catch it, I couldn’t make out what it was. Joe heaved open the doors while I was distracted, and as I tried to focus on one thing at a time in this whirlwind of events, I stepped up beside him, still looking at the brass knuckles that he had tossed to me.

  That’s funny, I thought to myself, why does he think I need these? We’re just robbing the truck. My fear-fogged brain spun dully, mulling over this conundrum so intently that it failed to register Joe’s grunt of pain, and a familiar double-click sound, a chkk-chkk type noise. Idly curious, I lifted my gaze away from the brass knuckles in my hand and up towards the van, just in time to admire the lovely shotgun the guard inside the transport had aimed at my chest.

  I had just enough to time to think about putting my hands up in surrender before he blew a hole in my chest.

  Chapter 13

  The world…..fading. The pain…..dimming. Thoughts growing slow, motor skills failing, heart all but surrendering…..this is what dying feels like. Death has never come easily to me. I think it was Steinbeck who wrote “Death was a friend, and sleep was Death's brother.”

  Try getting blown away by an underpaid rent-a-cop with a nervous trigger finger, Johnny, and we’ll see just how wrathful your “Grapes of Wrath” get. Sleep was the furthest thing from my mind as my body started to shut down without my permission. It was the single most terrifying, claustrophobic moment of my life, as my conscious mind fought desperately to cooperate with a vessel that was slowly turning into a permanent prison. As darkness slowly crept over my wide open eyes, I called on every ounce of will that I had and reached for the other darkness that I knew: the time continuum.

  I knew the difference instantly. The world disappeared, but I wasn’t worried. I could feel; it hurt more than words could express, but I welcomed it like a long-lost twin brother. I had never been so happy to suffer at the hands of time-travel. The agony woke my body out of its stupor, and as I lurched out into reality, my mind was as sharp as it had ever been.

  Joe, alive and well, tossed me the brass knuckles, which I slid on easily, marveling at the precise function of my fingers as I did. I savored the ecstasy of blood pumping through my veins instead of onto the blacktop, the wind caressing the tiny bit of skin uncovered by the sweaty ski mask. I didn’t lose focus; I still knew what I had to do. I just couldn’t help but relish in the small mercies of living.

  The mammoth in camouflage started to yank open the double doors of the transport, but I hauled him back with all my strength. Surprised, he didn’t flatten me into the ground, but watched dazedly as I mimed a gunshot and pointed urgently at the truck’s doors. I waved him to pull it open, but gestured that he should stay behind the door as he opened it. Time ticked by with unstoppable force and I knew that any second, that guard would bust out on his own and start shooting. I mentally begged Joe to hurry up and understand my frantic pantomime.

  Thank God, those dull eyes flashed with recognition and Joe heaved back on the door handle, making sure to stay behind the thickly reinforced door as he did so. I tucked myself out of sight on the opposite side, so when the gun-slinging guard leapt out and turned in Joe’s direction, I jumped him from behind. The gun went flying from his hands, and we went sprawled on the concrete. I was quick to get back on my feet, years of childhood karate kicking in instinctively, but the guard was just as fast. We shot quick glances around for the fallen gun, trying to locate exactly where it was before engaging each other, but I shouldn’t have bothered. There was only one guard, and while I might have proven to be a fierce opponent if it had come down to it, the poor guy had completely forgotten about Joe.

  Everything that I had feared about the impact of Joe’s massive fists was completely accurate. A single swipe from that meaty paw laid the unfortunate guard out cold. No sooner had the man hit the ground than Joe turned back to the truck, dumping its contents into two bags. Less than a minute later, we had thrown ourselves helter-skelter back into our van and peeled off, weaving through backstreets and shortcuts. I laughed like a maniac all the way.

  ****

  By the time the day came to a close, I felt like I could sleep for a century. As we arrived back at the club, Nicolae threw us into a series of tasks that might have lasted for hours or minutes. It really was impossible to tell time in that place. Personally, I fought to keep my eyelids open during the whole process of counting the diamonds. It was so…strange, being tired after everything that I had just done. The more I considered it, though, the more I realized that I was probably going into a mild form of shock.

  It wasn’t a surprise. Not only had I had been shot point-blank with a shotgun (no small matter by itself), but I had also just committed a massive felony. My thoughts from earlier transitioned from “What am I doing?” to “What have I done?” and worst of all, I had no answer.

  If such thoughts troubled anyone else in the crew,
they certainly didn’t show it. As Joe and Rathbone painstakingly counted out the uncut gems, the rest of the motley crew whooped it up about the adventures of the day to Lyman, who I guessed was “off duty” for this escapade. I made no move to join them at the bar, but I eavesdropped and as a result, learned what else had happened during that panicked ten minutes.

  When Joe had yanked me out of the van to attack the transport, Scarlet and Nicolae had gone after the driver. I didn’t like the sound of that. Gone after? Made it seem like the driver was a casualty. I didn’t dare ask what had happened to him; I wasn’t sure if I could handle more bad news on top of everything that I was feeling.

  Oh, God, I thought to myself, if Tara saw me now…

  I flinched mentally in anticipation of the pain that thinking of her would bring, but I found for the first time, that picturing her brought relief. Well, for a second, until I remembered the crime that I had just committed. Instantly, my smiling mental picture of her turned into one with a disgusted scowl. Ah, there it was. There was the pain I was expecting.

  “--Then this kid,” Nicolae dramatically pointed in my direction from the bar. “He goes all kung pow fuey on the guard in the back, then Joe flattens the bastard out with one swipe!”

  He doubled over in laughter as the rest of the gang guffawed along with him. Scarlet waved me over to join everybody, and despite the nausea that grew with every step toward them, I ventured closer. Nicolae threw an arm around me, and jostled me like a proud father after a sporting event.

  “How’d you know, huh?”

  “Know what?”

  “That the……guy, you know,” He was drunk. “How’d you know he was even in there?”