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Entertainment, Music, Literature, & Culture
3 A.M. Magazine
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Entertainment, Music, Literature, & Culture
3 A.M. Magazine
Page 10


   



of the Camaro, where, I was thankful, it was warm. Sebastian slid back into the driver’s seat. He tossed my keys back to me.

“We’re going back to my place,” he said. “When we get there, I suggest you get the hell out of sight before they change their mind.”

I still wasn’t warm by the time we reached Sebastian’s house, but I wasted no time throwing my leathers and my helmet on. When I got on my bike I noticed a clay-like substance on the key to my motorcycle.

I guessed that Sebastian had taken an impression of my key. They were letting me go now, but if after tonight, I came back for more, they’d know for sure I was a narc. They’d take me for a ride, shoot me, and dump me somewhere that I wouldn’t be found for a long time. While this was happening one of them would be using an illicit copy of my key to dispose of my bike, so there was no evidence linking me to them.

I don’t claim to have put together this theory while I was sitting in Sebastian’s driveway. It took me days to put the pieces together. I had plenty of time to think while I made myself invisible. For the next two days I didn’t contact anyone I knew. I disappeared from sight.



III


THERE was a time when I thought that all the pieces were coming together. For a moment everything snapped into a place and I had a vision of what could be. I had a respectable job, was making good money, was driving an 82’ Mustang 5 liter, and was engaged to be married to the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I caught a glimpse of the future…and even though there was a finite limit on what life I had left to live- what was left looked pretty good.

It wasn’t long before it all came crashing down around my ears. I’d built myself an illusion - a pie in the sky fantasy. I have to take some of the blame, myself. When it came to business, I should have watched my back more closely. When it came to Heather, I should have seen the writing on the wall.

She was a teenage boys fantasy and let’s face it- and when I first saw her I was a Junior in high school- very susceptible to her charms. She was blonde, beautiful, and a cheerleader. She had beautiful hazel eyes and a body that wouldn’t get out of my mind. For a long time, my mind was the only place she would be. I was too much of an outcast at Lakewood, to be in any social circles that included Heather. I wore trench coats and combat boots to school. My appearance scared some of the teachers, and most of the student’s gave me a wide berth. In some other school’s I might have been the leader of a new clique, but Lakewood was a small school with only a few people daring to deviate from the norm. So instead of being a leader, I became ostracized- which suited me better than the mind-numbing alternative of conforming.

The next time Heather came into my life, I felt as though divine intervention had taken place. I was staying with my grandparents and, at their urging, began attending a youth group at small Baptist chapel near Lake Goodwin. My Grandfather, Herbert, was a former Lutheran minister, himself - and he and my Grandmother, Rose, did their best to instill some sense of morality and values in me. I resisted mightily.


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