Powell Jewelz

1. Auflage 2012
ISBN: 978-0-9852939-1-8
Verlag: Navi & Poe press
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 155 Seiten

Two men become friends for all the wrong reasons. They both share a desire to get ahead in life, and they choose to get ahead by any means necessary. They devise a plan to rob jewelry stores. Unfortunately, what begins as a simple plan, quickly becomes violent.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Powell, Shawn M.

Leseproben

Chapter One

I drove through the city with the gun on my lap. I didn’t realize that I hadn’t put it away. I was upset. I had never pulled a gun on anyone before, and the odd thing was I had every mind to use it when I did pull it. I didn’t recognize myself; physically, I was the same, but my mindset was different. It was 7 pm when I made it home; I put the gun under the seat before getting out the car.

When I came in the house, I tossed the car keys over to my girlfriend. She blew me a kiss and quickly left out. As bad as things were going for me, she wasn’t able to tell. I worked hard to keep it that way. Moments after she left, there was a knock at the door. Assuming it was her forgetting something; I opened the door. I was met by two West African men, both of them pointing machine guns at my face. I knew then that I would be dying soon, and everything that had led up to this moment re-played itself in my mind….

It all started 6 months ago. I was at work, polishing a set of men’s watches when they came in. Business men, dressed in double-breasted suits and wing tips. They wore colorful bracelets and shimmering watches.

“How can I help you?” I said.

“Just looking around,” the shorter of the two replied. They were more focused on the jewelry than anything I had to say.

“Let me know if I can help,” I said.

They spent about 20 minutes in the store. Occasionally, they would ask me to show them select pieces.

“Where you from,” the other man asked.

“Atlanta.”

“We from the Bronx,” said the short one. “We were thinking about opening up some jewelry stores.”

“In Atlanta?” I asked.

“Right here in your city. We can see some profit down here.”

“Y’all already own a store?”

“We got a store in Manhattan,” said the short one.

I was impressed. They didn’t look older than 25 years old.

“If you need some help branching out, I’m that guy,” I told them.

“You might be able to help us,” the short one said. He stuck out his hand. “My name is Barry, and this is my cousin Steve.” The bracelet on his arm twinkled like Christmas lights.

I shook hands with the two of them and Barry handed me a card. “Moss & Andrews Esteemed Jewelers since 1996”.

“Let’s hang out tonight. We can talk about the business proposal we got for you,” Steve said.

I didn’t know what they had planned, but they looked to be business savvy. If their plan involved me one day owning a bracelet like the ones they wore, I was in.

That evening we met in a restaurant. We ate fried calamari and popped bottles of champagne. I listened to them tell me about their thriving jewelry business in New York. They seemed like they had it all together. From the brief time I spent with them, I knew I wanted to be a part of their successes.

“So, what is it that you need me to do; manage the store or something?” I asked.

“You ever saw $100,000 before?” Barry asked, ignoring my question.

“Nah bro, have you?” I replied, trying to appear cool.

“I see it all the time, and I want you to see it too.” He leaned in close, as if to reveal a plan. “If you can get us some of the pieces we want from your store, we’ll pay you up to $100,000.”

I looked around the restaurant, like I was being set-up. I poured up a taste of the champagne. “How can I do that?”

“That’s up to you,” Steve answered. “All we can do is pay you.”

Later that night, I stayed up late trying to come up with a plan. I had never thought about stealing from my job, but the offer of $100,000 was hard to ignore. When my alarm went off in the morning, not only was I tired, but I still didn’t have a plan.

That afternoon, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror with the hair clippers shaping up my low Caesar. When I was done with my shave, I gave my brown skin an onceover and dressed. An hour later I picked up my girlfriend, Tanesha. She was looking good when she came out of her apartment. Her light skin was slightly darker now; the summer sun had kissed her body, giving her a brown-sugar tan. She was wearing a tight-fitting shirt and short-shorts. She finished pulling her hair back into a ponytail as she got in the car. I kissed her, and we left for the car show.

I was quiet while we rode; I was still trying to figure out a way to get the jewelry. I thought about breaking into the store during the night. I even contemplated setting the alarm and hiding out in the store until night fall. I still couldn’t understand why I took the New York jewelers so seriously, I wasn’t a thief.

Tanesha detected something was wrong. “Why you so quiet?” she asked.

“I got a lot on my mind,” I told her.

“Well, I hope you not acting like that all day. It’s nice outside, cheer up.” She kissed me on the cheek and cut up the volume on the radio.

When we arrived downtown, we found a parking space and walked several blocks to the park. The sun was shining, and for once, the Georgia humidity was moderate. The field of trimmed grass was crowded with people. A large stage had been set-up in the middle of the park for the live performances scheduled. Cars with glossy paint jobs and big wheels were parked on the grass. Groups of spectators admired the vehicles and participated in raffles conducted from the stage. We stopped by a line of vendors to buy jerk chicken, and we heard someone call Tanesha’s name. We turned around to see a slender, cocoa-complexion woman. I watched as Tanesha ran to hug her. While the two re-united, I noticed that she wasn’t alone. The guy with her was quiet while the two carried on.

“Shareef, this is Sabrina,” Tanesha said. “We grew up together. I haven’t seen her in about 6 months,” she added, hugging her friend again.

I shook Sabrina’s hand.

“This is my boyfriend, Dino,” she said, introducing her companion.

Dino had a stocky build and a low haircut with a wavy pattern. He spoke and 4 gold teeth flashed at the bottom of his mouth. Since the ladies were so involved with each other, Dino and I got to know each other. The four of us strolled around the park chatting and admiring the custom-designed cars. Dino and I noticed how much attention the cars got from the females. From our conversations that afternoon, it was clear that the only things we had in common were our financial situations. He had grown up in low-income housing projects. I had been raised in a middle class neighborhood. His father had raised him, my mother had raised me. We both understood that money made the difference in ones quality of life and that neither one of us had it.

A few local bands performed until dawn, and the day ended. Dino was unmistakably cool, and we agreed to hang out one day. We exchanged numbers at the park’s exit before we parted.

The next time I heard from Dino was 2 days later. My cell phone rang unexpectedly during the early hours of the morning. I stared at the bold red numbers on my alarm clock; it was 2:30 a.m. I grabbed the cell phone off the nightstand.

“Shareef, what’s up?” Dino asked.

I sat up rubbing my eyes. “Sleep; its 2:30 in the morning.”

“My bad, but I need your help.”

“What’s up?”

“I’m in Decatur and I need you to come pick me up.”

I didn’t answer immediately, I was barely awake.

“I’ll give you 200 dollars if you come pick me up,” Dino said, before I could reply.

I woke up a little bit. Two hundred dollars was motivation.

“Text me the address, and I’ll be there as soon as I get dressed.

My GPS led me to a dark street made up of ramshackle houses. I drove through the neighborhood slowly. Zombie-like figures paced the streets. I slowed my vehicle, killed the lights, and pulled close to the curb. Dino showed up on the passenger’s side a few seconds later and tapped on the glass. I unlocked the door. He got in, carrying a small brown paper bag. He looked relaxed, as if nothing was unusual.

“Thanks a lot bro,” he said.

“No problem, where you going now?” I asked, as I eased the car away from the curb.

“I’m going to the crib.”

While we rode, he gave me directions. Halfway through the trip, he went into the brown bag and removed a healthy stack of money. He counted out twenties, tens, and an occasional fifty, before finally placing a neat bundle of green backs in my lap.

We rode for a moment and then my curiosity got the best of me.

“You got a dope trap or something?” I asked.

He threw his head back on the seat and shook his head.

“I never was into selling drugs Reef.”

“You a gambler?”

“Nope.”

“Do you snatch purses?”

“Almost,” he said. He lifted up the front of his jacket and pulled a small handgun from his waistband. The statement was clear, armed robbery.

“That’s heavy,” I told Dino for lack of anything better to say.

He casually put the gun back into his jeans, and we continued to his house. On the drive home I calculated how much Dino had profited to be able to give out 200 hundred dollars for a ride. I thought about how and what he had robbed....