COP’S EYES 3

 

The following is part three of a short story of mystery and imagination written by Stan Worthy.

That question got me thinking…who was I, really? And how could I have gotten in so deep into this underworld, into this netherworld galaxy of gangsters. “I’m calling his bluff. He ain’t gonna shoot her. She’s too fine. She’s just too pretty to shoot. Besides, he’s a wimp! Look at him. He’s shaking!” The bowling ball inched closer.

Louisa yelled. ” Stop! What are you doing? I don’t want to take any chances! The gun ain’t up to your head! ”

I was running out of options. And he was right to call my bluff about shooting her. But that didn’t mean that I wasn’t willing to shoot one of them. “Just keep moving closer and see what happens.” I tried to use the deepest bass voice my vocal cords would allow. It was so deep that it seemed all of that bass must’ve traveled through my arm and caused the gun to shake even more.

Louisa had picked up how nervous I was. I felt this sharp elbow into my side and the gun dropped out of my hand. I quickly picked it up. I aimed it figuring I would at least take one of them out. Pulled the trigger three times and all I heard was, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK. All I remembered was a foot kicking the gun out of my hand, followed by more kicks and punches. Then total darkness.

This is how it started for me, in  total darkness. I was use to the dark, to the quiet. When it was dark and quiet it seemed as if I had time to think more clearly about things. My body was one big pain from my head to my feet. They must’ve repeatedly kicked me in the head because it felt like one big mass of mush. Like it was ready to explode. My eyes were swollen slits that I could barely open. But it didn’t matter anyway. What could I see? It was dark.

And what’s this, ‘DAMN! I CAN’T MOVE MY HANDS OR MY FEET!’ My hands and feet were bound with duck tape. Sure enough it was dark and I couldn’t see but my brain was still working and all I kept hearing was that, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK…an empty gun. What a fool I was. Now, I want to say that usually I’m respectful when it comes to women but that ‘Bitch’ had emptied my gun. She was holding an empty gun on me the whole time. What a sucker I was. But how could I have known?

My mind started doing gymnastics. Jumping from one thought to another. Although my body was hurting, I felt a warmth like I was wrapped in a blanket. I thought of being  in my mother’s womb, in the fetal position. I felt her love. I felt the safety and security she provided as she carried me around. I was her precious cargo. Just thinking about that allowed me to feel free for a moment, no hurt, no pain. Just free.

I always wanted to be a cop. I wanted to help and protect people in the neighborhood from the bad guys. When I was a kid we played cops and robbers. I always wanted to be the good guy, I wanted to be the cop. My friends would say, ” You always want to be the good guy. It’s your turn to be the bad guy. It’s your turn to be the robber.”  Some of my friends could play the bad guy, the robber, a lot better than me. They were naturals. But they also wanted a turn to be the ‘ GOOD’ guy every now and then.

I can remember the ones who liked playing the robber a little bit too much.  They got a real kick out playing the bad guy. Some went on to be juvenile delinquents always staying in trouble. My mother told me to stay away from my bad friends. I guess she didn’t want the badness to rub off on me as if it were something contagious like a cold.

But sometimes the BAD can turn GOOD and the GOOD can turn BAD. Some of the bad kids were able to grow out of it and turn there lives around. Some ended up either going into the military, to college, and even becoming cops and some of the good kids later became dope heads and did things that landed them in prison. It was life. Life on life terms.

Sometimes you have to play the hand you’re dealt. Or the hand you deal to yourself. That’s why I never liked games of chance like dice or cards. I didn’t like not knowing. I had to be in control. But now things had gotten out of control.

The pain that shot through my body snapped me back to the present. Where was I? It was dark. My hands and feet were duck taped. I was in the fetal position. I could barely move. I had this claustrophobic feeling…

Suddenly I felt a bump that made my whole body jump as if I were a mere rag doll. Then I knew…

I WAS CARGO! I WAS IN THE TRUNK OF A CAR!!!