The List (Number 13)

June 2, 2010
By , Severn, MD
“Do you mind letting me pay for an item in advance?” I said with my suck-up-to-adults voice.
“Like a rain-check, sure what do you want?” a woman claiming to be the manager replied.
“I’m not so sure yet, I was hoping if I gave you a twenty, it would cover any expenses.”
“It doesn’t quite work that way, sir.”
“Okay let me explain,” and I went on to tell the manager our situation. Number 13 on her list was to shoplift, but I’d rather her not commit a crime, and I know later on down the road she’ll feel terribly guilty for her actions. “The chances are she’ll steal a pack of gum or like, make-up. So do you think I can give you my cellular and home phone numbers just in case I owe the store more?”
She stared at me for a long time, and then accepted, reaching her hand out for the money and phone numbers with a smile. When I got home, she was waiting on my doorstep wearing a ski-mask. I honked twice and she ran up towards the van I borrowed from my friend Jack, specifically for tonight. I threw open the shotgun door, but she quickly closed it and slid open the backseat door. I laughed and she sternly said, “Lyle, don’t be a liability.” I shut up and drove. When we arrived she jumped out, threw the ski-mask at me and said, “Keep the car running.” I waited in the van, listening to the radio until she banged on the door, jumped in and yelled, “Go, go, go!” with the keys in the ignition and her own sound effects, we screeched the whole way home.

I walked through aisle after aisle trying to find what to steal. Thank goodness Valentine’s Day was around the corner as well as the inspiration for what to take, something for Lyle. A simple box of chalky candy hearts would not suffice. My eyes searched the mess of red and pink until I saw a slight glimmer, then I found it, the perfect item to start my criminal lifestyle, a pack of two cheap looking silver necklaces with heart charms. I looked to my left, then to my right, searched the ceiling for cameras, and then shoved the necklaces in my bra; being smooth and collected is not exactly my forte.

We drove to Jack’s to drop off the can and pick up my car, then drove to her house. She invited me inside to show her goodies. She held my pink and dragged me to her room, not that I was reluctant. We sat on her spotless floor, criss-cross applesauce. She began to reach down her shirt. Whoa not those goodies. She pulled out 2 necklaces, and told me to turn around. I sat with my back towards her, hearing things spill to the floor, smelling permanent marker. She threw the necklace around me and fixed the clasp. I looked down and saw a little heart on my chest with words written in her penmanship “You are my light.” I looked up and she was holding the second necklace out to me, “Now you should write something.”

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