Page 2

(7-years-old)

This isn’t right, I know it isn’t.

I have to do it though because momma said so.

No big deal, I’ve been doing this since I was five years old.

Momma says I'm a big boy now and it should be easier as time goes on.

It isn’t, and I still beg her not to make me do this every time.

She still says no.

She said that she’ll buy me the new XBOX if I get the job done right.

She said that last time though, and the time before.

I still don’t have an XBOX, or a TV. I'm starting to think that momma lies.

I'm so hungry, that the food on the big round table threatens to take me to my knees, but there's no time for that.

I weave through the crowd of people seemingly invisible.

I'm wearing a fresh pressed suit that I know we cannot afford so I'm not sure where it came from.

Appearances are everything momma says.

If I walked around in my rags they would never allow me into this party.

Momma parked around the corner, and I snuck in here with nobody the wiser.

If someone sees me they will just think I belong to someone.

Up ahead next to a great piano I spot my first mark.

A small woman in a bright red dress.

Her strappy purse hangs low on her hip.

Her smile and grace scream money.

My shoulders slouch and I keep my eyes on the ground as I stalk in her direction. A soft oomph sounds when I slam into her. My hands reach out instinctively to steady her. Even though I'm tiny, she gets the idea. My left hand leaves her frame to clutch at my chest in shame, while my right one drops to her purse and makes quick work of the zipper. I speak to drown out the noise.

“Oh my, I am so sorry ma’am. I wasn’t watching where I was going, how dishonorable of me.”

Momma says my voice is small and soft. I don’t know what that means, but she says it will always play in my favor in these situations. The woman’s eyes soften as she peers down at me. The pressure on my chest is released when I feel a wad of cash brush against my hand, and I grip it as tight as my small fingers will allow. Now the tricky part is removing my hand and ensuring she doesn't see her money being stolen by a child con artist.

“Well, that’s okay honey. Where is your mother at, shall we go find her?”

She peers over my shoulder, and I execute the rest of my plan swiftly. Reaching back out with my left hand I discretely knock the champaign glass off of the piano. It shatters on impact causing both her and me to retreat and my right hand withdraws from her bag and into my suit pocket.

“Oh, I see her, thank you though!”

My smile is wide and fake, but she’s none the wiser and I slip back into the throng of people.

All in all, the interaction was no more than 30 seconds at most, but that doesn't stop the panic from wanting to lock up my bones. Nonetheless, I move with the grace of a tiger when I make contact with a mark. The skill came with lots of trial and error. Scary error, but momma wouldn’t hear of it.

I spot four other marks before I call it a job well done and sneak out of a side-door. I stick to the shadows of a back alley as I speed walk back to mommas car, counting the money as I go. I made away with $12,000 this time. It's not my best work but I hope it makes momma proud.

I spot her car up ahead and sprint the rest of the way. I'm barely in the car when she peels away from the curb.

I hardly exhale before mommas looking at me expectantly. I nod and pull out the wads of cash to hand over.

“Are we going to get the XBOX now momma?”

She clicks her tongue, and a familiar sense of dread grips me. I know it's coming before she even moves. My teeth clamp together, and my lips are held firm when her hand hits the side of my face with a loud smack. It's loud enough to wake my baby sister Cami in the backseat. Which earns me another backhand. I don’t make a sound though. I breathe through my nose deeply, and quickly blink away the sting in my eyes.

I climb over the center console and sit next to Cami. She’s only one years old and is finally big enough to be strapped into a seat belt. I used to have to hold her when we would go places. I told momma that Cami needed a car seat like the babies I see at the grocery store, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

I grab Cami's hand in mine and share some of my watered-down Dr Pepper. I read somewhere that kids her age shouldn’t have things like soda, but momma hasn’t bought milk in some time. The next time she disappears for a couple of days, Cami and I will go to the store on the corner by our house and take some while the cashier isn’t looking.

The car makes an expensive popping sound and momma curses before pulling to the side of the road. She shifts in her seat and turns to face me. Her expression is soft, and her eyes are pleading.

“I'm sorry baby. You know I didn’t mean it, but we just can't afford an XBOX right now. There's some stuff we really need to get for Cami that has to come first.”

She looks at the hand I have wrapped around Cami's before looking at me again. “You understand right baby?”

I nod seriously because I do understand. Cami always comes first. Finally.

“You are such a good son honey; I don’t know what I would do without your impressive hard work.”

My heart swells and a smile makes a home where my mouth is. I straighten and lift my chin as I peer up at her. She nods and her smile drops as if it was never there.

“Now we have a problem that needs fixin. So, things will be different from here on out, okay baby?”

My eyes widen in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

“The police are catching on to your job Harlyn. They are calling you the Gala Bandit.”

It's an effort to stop myself from shaking out of this suit. The police? Really? Tears sting my eyes once more and I have to work extra hard not to let my fear show. “Now I don’t want ya worrying okay? We’re just gonna switch it up a bit for a little while. They will never know it was you okay?”

I nod and sit forward while my heart pounds quicker than anyone my age should experience.

“What are we going to do for money now?”

“Not we, Harlyn. You.”

She throws a wad of clothes in the backseat and looks at me through the rearview mirror. Her instruction is clear. Put the clothes on. . .

And so, I do.

∞∞∞

It's been two years since that day in the car. Two years since I went from stealing from high-class society to this. . . And I finally made a mistake that I'm paying for in the form of sweat, blood,

and held back tears.

The crowbar comes down on my back again and I can hardly hold it in anymore, I barely stop a scream from tearing through me. Instead, a choked noise sounds.

“Would you look at that. The little thieving fuck can cry huh?”

He’s a liar, I haven't shed a tear. Mom says boys don’t cry.

I was weaving through a crowd of blissed out adults in a run-down house, doing what I do best. I stole some heroine here, some meth there, and enough pills to pay the water bill back at home before I got greedy. I wondered into the restroom to check the medicine cabinet instead of leaving like my instincts told me to.

Cami's been sick for a week, and I needed something to give to her. She's 3 years old now and like me has never seen a doctor. I couldn’t be useless anymore, I had to take matters into my own hands. Big mistake.

I'd do it again.

Mom won't get her anything for it. The bitch is still promising me an XBOX. Not that I'm stupid enough to ask for it.

All the stolen drugs I pocketed have been laid out on the dirty round table in the run-down kitchen safe and sound. All the while I'm being held down by two adults as if a miniature 9-year-old is any kind of physical threat.

Well, I wasn’t until today. I've never hurt a soul in my life, but I can't die here. I know better. Cami would die along with me because no one would take care of her. I don’t even know how I'm alive right now.

I look around and assess the situation as best as I can. Ronald, the man holding my left shoulder down popped three of the white pills roughly 40 minutes ago. That’s got to count for something. Soon I hope.

Howard, the one to my right shoulder pretends to be sober while drowning himself in booze from that styrofoam gas station cup that’s always close by.

I internally nod as the plan pieces itself together in my too full brain and I exhale slowly to prepare myself for impending chaos. It’s always the same. First my heart beats something fierce, then my bones attempt to lock, and my skin grows too hot to be healthy. None of that matters right now.

I see one thing and one thing only. Cami.

Game on.

The tears I've been holding in from the pain fall rapidly down my cheeks and my body shakes like the timer in the kitchen back home. I let a sob rip free and the guys chuckle at my expense.

“Please... They made me do it. Please stop hurting me. I'll tell you anything you want to know.”

The offer wasn’t on the table, but I can see the moment it clicks in his dumb brain that someone bigger and better than me planned this.

He nods his head to the two goons, and they pull off of my small frame slowly. Big mistake. With my smooth tiger like movements, I flip around, and duck when their hands reach out for me again. The knife in the ring leaders boot flashed me a blessing when I was being held against my will and I snatch it quickly.

In truth everything afterward is madness. My will to live was stronger than my will to do the right thing. Which apparently was to lay down and take it as my mother so helpfully informed me later that evening when she told me how fucking stupid I was.

The second my hand gripped that knife it was game over. I saw Cami's life flash in front of my eyes. I saw her hungry, alone and crying. Then I saw her end up just like me and that thought alone sent bile up my throat more than the blood did. One moment of her life without me flashed and I made my decision.

I stabbed Tim first. Turned quickly and stabbed the other two just as fast. And here is the part that people called me insane for. You see, I've read many books and in those books the bad guys always get right back up. That idea had panic slamming through me, at which point the knife came down again, and then again. On all three of them.

I was vaguely aware of the music being cut off in the background of it all. The only sound to be heard was that of flesh and splattered blood on dirty floors and furniture. And on me. I was soaked.

By the time I felt safe enough, I finished with a small nod to myself. At this point I looked up and froze. Several pairs of eyes looked back at me in horror. It cut me more knowing that they cared at all when they looked the other way not five minutes prior regarding my beating.

Nobody moved for me, and I kept the knife raised as I scooped the drugs from the table and stuffed them back on my person.

I don’t know what they did after that because I made like the wind and blew out of there.

As fast as my feet could carry me I made it back to moms car and jumped in the passenger like usual. When mom didn’t start the car I looked at her and did a double take at what I saw staring back at me.

It wasn’t the same look of horror I received minutes ago. This one was fury. So strong I should have felt it from around the block.

I sat still when her fists started flying. I took one to the nose that sounded with a sickening wet crack. A couple struck my eyes, and I knew there would be bruising there tomorrow.

I don’t know how long the beating went on while I practiced my breathing and clenched my teeth so hard it's a wonder they didn’t crack right out. Eventually she stopped but still raised her chin at me and the gleam in her eyes told me there would be hell to pay when we got home.

I emptied my pockets for her like clockwork and climbed into the back seat with Cami. Tears fell down her cheeks, but she didn’t make a sound. We’d work on it later.

Most importantly, when I looked into her glossy eyes I knew I had done the right thing.