2 Money In Hand

To clear the air, I feel like I need to say that I was fully aware of what Johnny meant by product. I may have been your stereotypical good kid all my life, but I was ignorant to what the bad kids where doing. I guess at the time I honestly thought what could it hurt? I drive the guy somewhere and get handed some cash. God knew I could use some as the three-oh-two was a money pit for me. Any cash I had went straight to it and cash was hard to come by without a job.

I left my house with only my black leather jacket against the cold. Once that howling wind hit me I realized I may have been underdressed. Even with the looming storm and blacked out sky It felt abnormally cold for the time of year.

My skinny black jeans didn't do much to shield from the wind chill, but I figured I'd be in my car anyways.

I jogged to the run-down beater I called my daily car. A ninety-three Cobra Mustang. I know that sounds special and for the time it was, but the original owner beat it into the ground. It still moved and was still quick but nowhere near its peak in the early nineties. With the three-oh-two sucking me dry I had nothing to spare to fix up the fox body.

The car roared to life when I turned the key. Despite the eager sound from the motor the car vibrated for a moment as if it was unwilling to move. I knocked the shifter into first and took off in a rather spirited manner wanting to get to Johnny's place before the rain did.

Of course I wasn't that lucky. Luck was Johnny's thing. The sky opened and rained hell on me when I was about ten minutes out. The dimming headlights of the fox body could barely pierce the weather.

Thankfully traffic was light and I found my way to Johnny's place despite God apparently not wanting me to make it. I flashed my headlights at his window and honked the horn a few times. His yellow raincoat was easy to spot as he crossed the yard, but I didn't recognize the other figure coming with him.

Johnny opened up the door and pulled the front seat forward to let the mystery man in the back. He pulled my door closed hard shaking the whole car. The two guys got water all over my seats and even more splashed around as Johnny shed his raincoat. I held back my protests as they really couldn't help getting wet on the way to my car.

Before I could say a word Johnny took my hand and shoved a wad of cash into it. My eyes went wide suddenly as more cash than I had ever seen at one time was forced into my palm. I counted the damp bills in a hurry going all the way to three hundred.

I looked at Johnny with what I'm sure was a stunned look. He pushed back the damp bangs of his slightly unkempt undercut with a smile. Pearlescent blue eyes sparkled childhood wonders at me. I was always amazed he was able to hold onto that innocent gleam for nineteen years.

The man in the back, however, was not as happy as Johnny. He was jumpy and grumpy. A great combination for getting on my nerves. He had a shaved head, and I guess he subscribed to the theory of going ugly early because he sure was going hard. I couldn't begin to imagine what hole Johnny found this guy in, but the pay was amazing so I didn't complain.

The guy gave directions in a gruff and commanding voice. Like this was his operation. I didn't like it one bit but nothing could be done about it.

He jumped every time a car passed us and eyed up every building like someone on his tail or something. He carried a small backpack and kept checking it like it was some compulsive urge. Hell, for all I knew the guy really could have had OCD or something. Not that I was going to take pity on him for anything.

We ended up on the wrong side of town. Like I figured we would. You can tell when you hit the wrong side of town. Whatever town it is. Suddenly the houses are all in various stages of disrepair. You've got people on porches eyeing you up as you move down the street. The bad side of my town happened to be the south side.

I lived on the complete opposite end of the place. So far North that we almost didn't qualify as part of the town. Of course, in nineteen years I've had to come down here a few times, but never to do any business here.

I wasn't easily scared. Never did any sports in school, they would have got in the way of my studies, but I was still built pretty athletically. I rolled the dice on genetics and rolled high. Tall and thin. Built like a runner I guess. Oddly enough the only sport I ever considered was cross country.

Back to the topic at hand. I wasn't easily scared or frail in the slightest. Something about the bad side of town made my skin crawl, and when I spotted the house that was meant to be our destination I stopped a few houses away.

I hit the clutch, tossed the shifter in neutral, and pulled the handbrake all in one smooth motion despite my hands shaking.

Four men stood on the porch. Each one in thick hoodies and baggy pants. Red flags went high in my head, and survival instinct told me not to get closer. The man in the back seat let out a distressed groan.

"Why did you stop?"

"I don't want to get closer to those guys. They look like bad news"

"Let me tell you something"

The man began before cutting himself off. I hadn't been looking at him. My eyes where fixed on the porch ahead. Behind me I heard something I hadn't heard in a long time. A smooth, metallic, click. My brain knew exactly what it was however.

A gun. I knew it was a gun. I never messed with any handguns, but I knew what they sounded like in the movies. I felt the muzzle press solidly against the back of my skull. In the corner of my eye I saw Johnny freeze with fear watching the whole thing unfold.

"I am the bad news kid. You keep driving or Ill blow your brains out and drive for you"

I complied without an argument. My snappy, sarcastic, wit was gone now. In its place stood a terrified kid with no idea what to do. My feet and hands worked together in a blur. Thankfully all the movements I needed in order to get the manual transmission moving had been practiced into my muscles. Otherwise the shaking would have made it hard on me.

I pulled the fox body up to the house's front steps and parked it. I kept my head locked straight ahead. I was too afraid to even breath with the gun to my head. It was so surreal. The most fear I had ever felt in my life. When you get that scared you start to feel like you aren't even in your body. It starts to move for you. I guess that's the fight or flight reaction kicking in, but I had never really felt that until the moment I heard that gun click behind me.

Johnny let the guy out and sat back down. He closed the door and very slowly clicked his seat belt back on.

"Jack. The guys on the porch. They don't look friendly."

"The guy in the car wasn't to friendly either"

Johnny looked to his left at the house. His head snapped back to the road ahead.

"Listen Jack. We have our money. Let's just leave."

Logic kicked in for probably the first time that evening.

"Johnny you dumb ass, he knows where you live"

"Fuck!"

Johnny swore loudly and put his face in his hands.

"This is to deep Jack I didn't want it to go like this"

"Looks like that luck ran out this time"

"Don't say that!"

Johnny almost whined that last sentence. He looked around quick before he looked back at me. My head didn't leave it's spot. I was still somehow afraid the guy would know I moved and shot me from the house.

"Jack. I can stay at your place. My parents are out of town for a while so if he goes back to my house he won't find anyone to hurt."

I sat there frozen in fear for a moment. I didn't know what to do. The last thing I wanted was that guy back in my car. I didn't want to feel that fear again. Johnny's head was on a swivel watching all angles for us. His head settled back on the house and that look of terror was back now.

"He is coming back Jack..."

It was an open-ended statement. Johnny wanted me to do something. Anything at all. He needed me to take control, and take control I did in the most spectacular way. I didn't even look to confirm the guy was coming back.

I put the hand break down and dumped the clutch at about twenty-five hundred. The Mustang roared to life and my back tires broke loose for a second screaming to the sky. The wet road didn't make for a good launch but the fox body still managed to get up and move quick.

I must have spun my tires all the way through first gear but second gear gripped hard and tore us down the street. Faintly somewhere in my head I could heard a gun being fired but the heartbeat roaring in my ears was by far the loudest thing to me at the moment.

I could hear Johnny faintly. Like he was so far away even though he was right next to me. His head was turned looking back down the street. His hand beating on the dash board as he screamed

"Go Jack! Fucking Go jack!"

Every word out of his mouth was some variation on telling me to fucking go. I redlined all my gears leaving the neighborhood. I slid some corners in the wet conditions as I was going stupidly fast through the small streets.

At some point the two of us calmed down. We found ourselves parked outside a gas station just sitting in stunned silence. Neither of us knew exactly what to say but Johnny was the first to break the ice.

"Thought you said the fox body was a beater. This thing moves"

"Engine is fine, and it is a cobra. The problems are mostly cosmetic or technical. Like the A/C doesn't work"

"Oh"

Was all Johnny said. We both took a deep breath almost in unison. He fished something out of his pocket. I can only assume it was the cash he was given.

"Well. We got paid. Wanna get some sodas?"

I let out a deep breath one more time releasing most of the tension I held. It was like taking a weight off my shoulders. My cynical and sarcastic wall was built back up now.

"Yeah, I could use something to drink. Guess having a gun to your head does that"

"You would know"

Johnny remarked off hand as he got out of my car.