by Ws Greer
“I’m not happy,” she leads off, grabbing my attention. “I have nice clothes and a nice house in a nice neighborhood, you’re right. But what I don’t have are nice parents, nice friends, or happiness. My mother hates that I’m nothing like her, my father pretends I don’t exist most of the time, and the kids at my school are stuck-up little shits.
“I know it sounds crazy to say that I feel more at home in Strawberry Mansion than I do in Center City West, but it’s the truth. I’ve been sneaking away from Center City for about a year now, and I just so happened to come here and see you my first time in Strawberry Mansion. I came here to get away from my parents and the little prick they keep trying to force me to date.
“You see, my parents own a powerful petroleum company called Wilde Inc. It’s a family-owned kind of business that’s been in the family for generations and literally makes billions of dollars.” I find myself looking at her with wide eyes as the word reverberates in my head. She just said billions. I let her continue. “My parents, Alistair and Betsy Wilde, are your average, rich, white conservatives who hate change, and have a certain way about doing things, and I get to reap the benefits of being a Wilde, as long as I play by their rules. I have to look a certain way, act a certain way, and live a certain way.
“Part of that is being seen with the son of one of their family friends. His name is Charlie Connelly, and he’s an arrogant, aggressive, pompous jackass who does a fantastic job of hiding his asshole-ness whenever our parents are around. He’s a piece of filthy shit just like the rest of them, but if I don’t conform, then my parents would have no problem shunning me like I’m some embarrassment to them simply because I want to be who I want to be. It’s miserable living a life like that. No matter what I do, no matter how much I love doing it, if it doesn’t fit into their way of thinking of how life should be for our family, then it’s wrong. So every day, I’m wrong. I’m wrong to them in every way. It’s like I was born into the wrong family, and I’m now going to the wrong school, hanging out with the wrong people, and living the wrong life. I wasn’t meant to be an heir to the Wilde Inc. fortune, but that’s what I am, and I absolutely hate it.
“I hate how they pay off politicians, and judges, and police chiefs to get what they want, and then belittle me for the smallest things, as if white collar crime is somehow more permissible and admirable than the crimes committed by poor people. I hate them, and they hate me for not being like them. Maybe that’s difficult for you to understand since you’re from Strawberry Mansion, but I want out of my terrible existence the same as you want out of yours, and it’s hard to meet somebody who understands what that feels like. That’s why I’m drawn to you, Solomon. Without even trying, you get me. You understand what it’s like to feel like you were born into the wrong life.”
As she finishes talking, I realize I’ve stopped walking and I’m staring at her in awe under the orange glow of a streetlight. I’ve never heard of such a thing. A rich girl who hates that she was born rich? It’s crazy, but when I look into her gorgeous blue eyes, I believe it. It’s written all over her face, in every crease and dimple. She’s the exact same as me and the exact opposite at the same time. How the hell is that possible? She left a life of luxury behind to come to a poor neighborhood with liquor stores on every corner and crack houses on every street, because deep down inside, she’s just as unhappy as I am.
Now, my usual response to something like this would be, “Aww, you’re just breaking my poor little heart,” but there’s something about the way Reina tells her story that hits home for me. She has a life I would kill for, yet she’d trade it all away. It’s quite the connection. Neither of us feel like we should be where we are, and we’re both doing things people don’t approve of to get what we want. I want the money she has, she wants the mindset I have. What the hell is that about? Isn’t life screwed up, that a girl like her would want out of her life of excess? The sound of all of it amazes me.
“You’re unhappy too,” I hear her say. “I can see it in your eyes, but you come alive when you’re doing something wrong. There’s something in you that lights up when you’re forcing life to bend to your will. That’s something I crave—the ability to make life bend at my will. I don’t know your story, but I want to. I know you’re the only person I can be myself with. So how about it, Solomon. Are you going to let me in?”
I look in Reina’s eyes and I see the sincerity in them. A girl from Center City West is actually just as dark and unhappy as I am, and she wants to know about me. She wants to connect with me. How strange. Nonetheless, I decide to give a small piece of myself, but I do it cautiously, anxious to see what she’ll do with it. I take a deep breath and keep my eyes on the dark road ahead of us.
“My mother’s a junkie whore, my father’s dead, and we don’t have any money, so I steal things from people who do,” I reply, looking up into the cloudy night sky. “I’m a lowlife criminal who openly talks about robbing places on the street, and I have to scramble, grind, and scrape just to get by. But one day, I’m gonna run this city. Everyone will know my name, and they’ll fear me, and they’ll know never to cross me. My name alone will petrify anyone who’s not already on my team. I’m gonna be the most feared, respected man on this side of the entire country. One day I’ll have everything I want, and the things I’ll do to get them? Well they won’t be pretty to most people. But I like that. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I take a second to look into Reina’s eyes, searching for the fear that I expect to be there, but there is none. She just looks right back at me and says, “I believe you.”
She’s not afraid, and if I’m not mistaken, I’d say she likes it, which is the most interesting thing that’s happened to me all day. Even more interesting than doing a mini surgery on Moe’s ear lobe.
The two of us keep walking until we reach the train station again. Reina keeps coming down here and spending all of her time looking for me, so every time we meet up, it seems like it only lasts a few minutes before she’s going back to where she lives. This time, however, when we reach the subway, there’s a group of guys standing in front of it, so her departure is about to become much more interesting.
Everybody wants to be a tough guy in this neighborhood, and these assholes fit the mold perfectly, especially the one with the stitches in his cheek wearing a puffy red jacket that looks two sizes too big, who I immediately recognize to be my mother’s old dealer, Davon. Yes! Fun is waiting for us!
Reina tenses up as we approach the baggy-clothed foursome, and something in me doesn’t like it. There’s four of them, three black guys and one Hispanic guy with tattoos covering his neck. They play the role of bad asses pretty well, but I know it’s an act. The tough guys only make things worse when one of them gets up and stands in front of the entrance as if he won’t let us pass without saying a password. I don’t recognize him, which is the only reason he’d be standing here, because he obviously doesn’t know me either. But I see the look on Davon’s healing face, and he knows he doesn’t want to go down this road again.
“Hey Davon!” I call to him with a goofy wave, just as Davon tries to get the attention of the guy standing in our way. “How’s that cheek?” I ask, smiling from ear to ear.
Davon barely lifts his head. Aww, he’s embarrassed. He should be!
“Did you tell your friends about me?” I ask him, egging him on before turning my eyes to the bald guy standing in front of us. “Davon and I met a few days ago. We even played a game. I won. That’s how he ended up with that hole in his face. Aww, good times.”
I want him to try something. I wish for it. I want all of them to try something, because by the time it’s all over, Reina will know that she never has a reason to be tense as long as she’s with me. It doesn’t matter where we go, if she’s by my side, she’s untouchable.
Unfortunately, Davon decides against responding to me. He just hangs his head low as we push past his little friend without hesitation. I don’t slow my pace in the sl
ightest, because if they don’t know it now, they will know it soon—this is my city, and I don’t move for anybody. You move for me!
“Your work, huh?” I hear Reina ask with a smirk on her lips. I smile at her as we keep walking, letting her fill in the blanks herself. “Well, thanks for walking with me,” she says, moving on.
“Better to be with me than not,” I reply.
“I’m sure you’re right. Hey, do you have a phone? That way we can plan on when and where to meet, instead of me wandering around these dangerous streets.”
“Nah, I don’t have a phone, but I’m sure I’ll have one soon.”
“Well, I’ll try to come back next Saturday. Around two?”
I nod my head. “Got nowhere else to go, so I’ll be here.”
“Okay.”
I watch Reina make her way to where she’ll get back on the train, but I don’t watch her leave. I turn on my heel and walk out of the subway, right past Davon and his crew, who are completely silent when I pass. Not even the slightest whisper. Just the way it should be.
As my boots step on the cold concrete, I feel a sense of excitement. For the first time in forever, I feel like things are looking up. I’ll spend the rest of the night talking to Nix about how to hit Cash N Check for everything they’ve got, and something deep down inside of me is looking forward to next Saturday. It’s really deep down in there, but it’s there.
I don’t know if she knows it, but Reina Wilde is doing something right. Maybe it’s the pretty face. Maybe it’s the way she wears her nice clothes like she’s ashamed of them and she’d rather be wearing a baggy white t-shirt, sweatpants, and tan Timberland boots that match mine. Maybe it’s the way her blue eyes pierce into my soul every time she looks at me, forcing me to put forth maximum effort just to look away. Or maybe it’s the story she told about how messed up her life at home is—the way she made me feel her pain using only her words. It’s the connection I felt when she spoke about wanting to get away. Needing to get away. I felt that need emanating off of everything she said. I felt it, and I recognized it because it’s the same feeling that lives in me.
Reina and I are kindred spirits. We’re two peas in a pod literally from opposite sides of the tracks, but we feel the same things. We’re cut from the same cloth, and damn it, I think I like it.
TIME FLIES WHEN you’re having fun, and that’s exactly what Nix and I have been having over the past two weeks since I told him about wanting to rob Cash N Check. Two weeks of staking out the place. Two weeks of Nix looking into their security system like he’s been doing this his whole life. Two weeks plotting exit strategies if one of the cashiers happens to get to the button and the police show up. We know exactly where the button is, and which cashier will be the one to go for it. Fourteen days of getting it all together with two Saturdays of hanging out with Reina mixed in just to spice things up a bit. Two long weeks of my adrenaline pumping more and more as the days went by, bringing us closer to the time it’d finally happen. Two weeks ago I told Nix we needed to change our lives, and today it finally happens.
The two Saturdays I’ve had with Reina have been better than I’d ever expected spending time with someone could be. After we set our date for her to show up, I half expected her not to. I don’t know why, but I guess my experiences with people—especially my mother, who’s just as useless today as she was two weeks ago—just made it to where I don’t trust anybody. So, when the train came to a stop and I stood outside of the train station, I was truly surprised to see Reina walking towards me in a long, black coat that went down to her knees, thick black leggings, and black shoes with tiny heels on them. She was gorgeous, but what I thought about most was how she kept her word. That went a long way with me, and it stayed with me as we spent that day walking through the rough neighborhood of Strawberry Mansion, and I told her everything I knew about the place. It stayed with me as she listened and learned about where I live, and who I am, and the things I’ve experienced in my time on this earth. Her loyalty stuck with me after the day came to an end and I had to walk her back to the train station, and it was still there a week later when she arrived once again, right on time.
That Saturday was about her. We did more walking and talking, and this time she went on and on about her life, and what she has been through, and what she goes through on a normal basis with her horrible parents and her terrible “friends” at school. She spoke in depth about how having money means nothing to her if she can’t be happy and have a life filled with adventure. By the time the day was over, I felt like I knew her much better than I had before, and we’d grown closer. Even as the date that Nix and I had chosen to rob Cash N Check crept closer, she never told me I shouldn’t do it. She understood and supported me, and without the slightest hesitation, she told me to go for it. Her having my back means more to me than she knows, and it will make today easier.
Cash N Check rests on the corner of two quiet streets on the edge of Strawberry Mansion, and after all of Nix’s thorough investigating, we know that the best time to hit it is first thing in the morning when people are still at work waiting to get their checks. We made sure to do this on the week between the first and fifteenth, ensuring payday is still a ways off. Everything will be quiet, and by now, you should know what comes after the silence—chaos, except this time, we are the chaos.
We wait in an alley in my mother’s car as the workers walk in and get everything set up, unaware of the two of us lurking outside the door. Nix and I both have stolen guns, but as the time draws closer, something in me doesn’t want to use the gun. No, I like the idea of striking fear into people with a knife. A big, sharp, jagged knife. You see, if I force you to have to choose between being shot in the head or stabbed to death, you’ll surely pick the shot to the head, because it’s quicker. The fear of pain comes in to play and nobody wants to feel the agony of being stabbed over and over again, and that’s why a knife or a blade is my best friend, my favorite weapon. Nothing brings fear like a blade.
As we take one last deep breath to steady ourselves, I tuck the gun into the waistband of my sweats and the knife into my pocket, before finally applying a balaclava over my face, followed by a Jason Voorhees Halloween mask. We put on black gloves to cover the last of our exposed skin, and before we know it, we’re all set. There’s nothing left but to do it. All the preparation is done, and now it’s time to make it happen. As the two of us check each other to make sure we’re both covered up, I realize we only have two options now—either make it happen or run away. Once we step outside this car, there’s no turning back. This is the moment that will change our lives forever. It’s time to change the channel. I exhale, then we’re out of the car, walking down the alley, and stepping around the quiet corner, fueled by pure adrenaline.
Inside is even quieter than outside. There’s a counter that separates us from the workers behind it. There’s only three of them, all women, and they sit behind white and brown desks, clicking away at their keyboards on what I’m sure is Facebook. There’s a red head, a blonde, and a brunette, and I’m sure there’s a bad joke in there somewhere, but I brush the thought aside and focus. No time for distractions. The desks are large and metal, and they conceal everything behind them—can’t even see the legs of the women who occupy them. They don’t even see us when we come in, because they’re too busy staring at the screens and clicking the keys. Click. Click. Clickety clack.
“My oh my, what kind of sexist establishment is this?” I begin with my arms outstretched like I’m waiting for a hug from no one. The three women finally look up from their computer screens and see me and Nix standing behind the counter. They see the masks, and I know that’s what sets them off. We knew it would, so my partner and I act accordingly.
“Hands on top of the desks!” Nix shouts as he raises his black nine millimeter and I jump over the thick counter that’s doing such a horrible job of protecting these three beautiful ladies. Well, two of them are beautiful, one of them sort of reminds me of Master Splint
er from Ninja Turtles, but oh well. The three of them oblige Nix, and I can see the fear in all of the their eyes as I come closer to them, no longer separated by the counter up front. Adrenaline and a desire to change my life push me forward, and it’s the greatest rush I’ve ever experienced.
“What is going on in here?” I ask with a smile none of them can see behind the two masks. “Three women running the show? Where are all the men? Oh I know, men can’t be trusted because they’re all greedy, violent, sexist pigs who only think with their dicks.” I let out a laugh and the tiny redhead in front of me cringes at the sound, which catches my attention.
“Oh, do I frighten you, Darleen?” I ask, reading her silver nametag on her black button-up shirt. “You don’t have any reason to be afraid, dear. I’m just telling the truth about men. Is that scary to you?”
“Aren’t you a man behind that mask,” another woman says to my right. This one is obviously the boss of the shift, wearing a gray pantsuit with her dark brown hair tied in a tight bun. She’s trying to show me just how confident she is with a stern expression and a furrowed brow. How cute.
“Oh no, I’m not just a man,” I answer the brunette. “Far from it. I’m much more than that. I’m the devil himself coming to take everything I want from this world.”
“And what is it that you want?” the manager asks, still holding on to her faux confidence.
“Isn’t it obvious? I want what you’re trying to hide in the safes behind those gigantic desks of yours.”
In a flash, I see Nix quickly shift the barrel of his gun over to the third woman and run over to her as she tries to move her hands back to the top of the desk.
“I told you to keep your damn hands on your desk!” Nix shouts in her face as he shoves the barrel of his gun into the blonde’s face, the metal pressing against her glossed red lips. Oh she’s got him fired up, and I let out a chuckle at the sight of it. But it doesn’t last long, because I sense movement coming from my left.