52stories

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Neil slathered peanut butter over the white bread. A dollop of jelly completed the masterpiece. Wrapping it in a thin plastic sheet, it was ready to take it’s place with the apple and juice box in his lunch bag. He lifted it, then walked silently into his father’s bedroom.

Using only one finger, Neil started poking his father’s temple. The snoring giant sputtered and coughed. Eventually he awoke.

“What?”

“It’s time to get up.”

“The sun is still up.” Greg rolled over, facing away from his son.

Neil resumed poking, this time on his father’s back.

“Lower.”

“COME ON!” Neil bent at the knees slightly and stood back up straight, shaking his whole body, none of which Greg could see. “I’m supposed to go with you today.”

“That’s today?”

~ ~ ~

“Want some?” Greg offered the cup to Neil.

“No thank you. Kids don’t drink coffee.”, Neil did his best to portray anger on his face and lace his words with the emotion. Greg ignored it completely.

“Some do. In Europe.” Greg sipped. “Ah, best in the city, the whole fuc-, erm, the whole city.”

“I’m supposed to be learning about your JOB.” Neil reminded his father once again.

“Okay, we can do some daylight runs, but I tell ya, most of the fun stuff happens at night.”

“I thought your work was legal.”

“Sure it is.” Greg said, “But taking people’s stuff, well, they never like it, and some put up a fight, even though they are the ones stealing it. Warped, but it pays da bills.”

“Whatever.”

“Come, on, cheer up. Who died? The first job is a bike. You like bikes right?”

“I’ve been riding a bike since I was FIVE.” Neil had three years of experience, and his father hadn’t noticed. “So, where do we go?”

“We’re already here. A man bought a five-thousand dollar mountain bike, and rides it to work each morning, at that construction site. He should show up any minute. He’ll go into the work trailer for the morning’s safety meeting, then come out to quite a surprise.”

Neil and Greg sat in silence for another ten minutes, just watching the people stroll up and down the busy city street. “There he is.” Greg said, pointing to a man approaching on a very nice looking mountain bike.

“He’ll see us!”, Neil looked for a place to hide.

“No, he doesn’t know us. It doesn’t matter.” Greg noted that his boy was actually taking an interest, that made him smile. “Just watch.” Like clockwork, the mark locked his bike to a sign post, walked past the scaffolding and into the job site trailer.

“LET’S GO!”, Greg put his son on his back, as they crossed the street.

“It’s locked!” Neil said yanking on the black object keeping the bike affixed to the metal post.

“No problem.” Greg whipped out two adjustable wrenches, and removed the frame from the front wheel. “Come on.” They stashed the bike in the van a block away, then found another, more out of the way spot to wait. “This is the best part.”

The mark eventually left the trailer, a coffee cup in one hand, a roll of construction plans in the other. He noted the bike, or more accurately the tire. Even from their removed distant vantage point, Greg and Neil could hear the cursing.

“Now, watch this. Having lost all value, there is only one thing to do…” Greg explained and if on command the worker moved to the tire. He kicked it, getting coffee all over his hand for his troubles. “Oh that was good, now he’ll unlock it, since the lock is the only thing worth-wile now, and he’ll leave the wheel.” The man did exactly that, still cursing the entire time he walked from the spot out of view into the construction site.

“I want to get it.” Neil said. Greg looked around. “Okay, grab it and run to the van. I’ll start it up and we’ll make a clean get-away.”

Neil crept toward the tire. He then remembered he shouldn’t look out of place, and no one walked like this, so he tried to walk normal. Getting to the tire was no trouble, and he picked it up.

“HEY YOU!”, a voice came from the construction site, the man they had watched, had not gone to work after all, but was waiting and watching.

Neil froze, and clutched the bike tire. He watched the man run toward him, yelling, “Where is my bike?!”

A moment before the man could grab Neil, the young boy heard the screech of tires, and a sliding door open. He turned to see his father’s van pulling closer. Running as hard as his legs would go, he dived in, then slid the door shut. The angered man beat on the outside of the van, but it pulled away and out of sight.

“Well, son, you did great.” Greg said.

“Thanks.” Neil smiled. “I think I like this job. What’s next?”