I originally wrote this five years ago while taking a writing class. Our prompt was to have an unreliable narrator. I had a lot of fun writing this one and getting to mesh my experiences growing up in "Old DC". This is also part of a greater work and introduces a character that defined most of my writing in 2011, Mr. Brown. I am currently reworking this piece and my other works from 2011 to create an anthology with a very dark thread holding these stories together. Let me know what you liked, what works, and what doesn't. Enjoy!
Mr. Brown’s Perfect Plan
I need to calm
down. Give me a sec, just give me a
sec! I will tell you everything you
wanna hear I just need to take something to calm my nerves. Hold up a sec I
have just the thing. It’s in my pocket
somewhere…ah here it is. Let me put a
little line on my finger and…sniff…sniff…okay! That’s better, now where should
I start? I guess everything changed when
I met him.
* *
* * * *
Back then DC was a
much different place. I used to be with
Tony and his crew doing petty crimes, you know.
We would take a car radio over here, a VCR over there, life was
good. But you know what they say,
nothing good eva lasts. It started so
small. You would see a white face pop out in chocolate city. Then it was a white block. Soon the strip clubs and liquor stores became
bookstores and coffee shops. And you
know what the most fucked up thing was?
The police actually started to respond to 911 calls. In a few years we went from making a killing
jacking equipment to robbing from our own group just to make ends meat. Tony was the first to go cuz since he was the
leader, he had the most valuable stuff, you know, chrome wheels, diamond guns,
he even had some art work at his house.
Don’t know if it was actually worth anything but we took it anyways. But
that only floated us a couple of months. Things got bad. Then they got real
bad. Most of us either locked up or start to pack up for the burbs until he showed up…Sniff…and that’s when shit
really hit the fan. He gave us the
most dangerous thing you can give a man; hope. We thought we had all been
saved. We thought it would be like old times again
* * * * * *
Arno…I guess I
shouldn’t use his real name, don’t want to wake his spirit. Let’s just call him Mr. Brown. Mr. Brown was different from the rest of
us…yeah I feel fine, why? Shit
really? Yeah my nose tends to blend when
I ‘calm myself down’ just let me wipe it off.
Okay, where was I? Oh yeah Mr.
Braun… I mean Mr. Brown. He was
different, not like me and the rest of the crew. I mean the cat was smart, not just street
smart but he was educated and not community college educated. He went to a
college college like Harvard or Yale, somewhere all the rich white people go so
you know it’s a good education. I mean
the way he would talk and the things he would say made you think “why he was
with us?” I’m not saying that me and my
crew are stupid or ignorant, I got some
high school and know how to read, but Mr. Brown could have easily been a CEO or
a philosopher or something. Whoops, my
bad, forgot to mention that Tony’s crew became my crew. That’s just the way
things go but that’s not important.
Anyways Mr. Brown came to us, don’t really know how he found us, and
brought us a plan, a plan that would set us up for the rest of our lives.
* * * * * *
Being the leader,
I was entitled to a few perks. The best
thing for me was getting to know Mr. Brown a bit better. Made him seem less
like a ghost. I found out that there was
an art dealer who was at the top of Mr. Brown’s “No Friend” list. I think the art dealer stole a girl from him
or killed his daughter or something. All
I knew was that there was bad blood between them and it had to do with some
girl. I didn’t ask too many questions
cuz I didn’t want to be on that list.
Though as I began chillin with Mr. Brown I realized that he must be some
art dealer or something too cuz his house, nah more like mansion was filled
with paintings, statues, and nice rides.
Shit his house was all the way out in Bethesda so I knew this guy was
loaded.
But none of that
is important. What was important was his
plan. He contacted us cuz he needed some
people with experience moving things,
and being from old DC that was all we knew how to do. The plan was perfect, we had to boost some
artifacts and paintings from the Smithsonian, and take it to a private runway
out in West Virginia. Mr. Brown had paid
off the guards, some cops, and outfitted us with some serious heat in case
anything went down. He also said that we
got to keep one hundred percent of the cut from the fence at the airport cuz he
said we were taking one hundred percent of the risk. I don’t know what he meant since he was gonna
be there with us but we weren’t
complaining. It was going so well until
they got to the runway. The Feds were
waiting for them and a firefight broke out.
Mr. Brown took out six Feds before he fell…or so I heard.
* * * * * *
See I wasn’t at
the museum or the runway cuz Mr. Brown had asked me to come to this address and
tie you up. By the looks of it you seem
to be an art dealer too, and by the way you’ve been cussing me out you could
easily make the number one spot on any list.
It doesn’t matter if Mr. Brown is ok or not cuz I got my instructions to
follow. Now I am tired of talking and I
wanna hear your pretty voice sing. Just
let me take some more of my medicine…sniff…ah
now the fun can begin. What? Is my nose bleeding again? Hahahahaha.
Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.
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