When Desperation Meets Opportunity Chapter 8 — A #NaNoWriMo 2015 Story
By: Josh Gauthier
Tags: NaNoWriMo, Short Story, Fiction

Chapter 8 — Maggie

“Mommie! Mommie! Wake Up!”

The sounds of an excited boy stir me from my slumber. It is a good thing too — my alarm has been blaring for nearly a half an hour, and I have to be at work in under an hour. Wednesday’s are my long day at the gas station. Twelve hours of work, from nine in the morning until nine at night. Thankfully, since my mom has been helping look after Brayden, it is a lot less stressful trying to figure out how I’m going to take care of him.

What I haven’t figured out yet, however, is what I’m going to do with these ten thousand dollars that I’ve been fortunate enough to receive. Part of me wonders if Mr. Man forgot about me. It has been four days since our last communication. I kind of thought he’d be in touch a lot faster than that. Something I can’t help wondering about is how he was able to find out that I did what he asked so quickly and get me the money as fast. Clearly, he has someone here. Was Rodger in communications with him? It doesn’t seem likely that he’d be the type of company a crazy rich guy like Mr. Man would want around. But, I can’t say I know everything about Rodger. He could have simply been feeding me a line.

“Come on mommie! You have to get up!” Brayden is persistent. I wish he was this reliable of an alarm clock every morning. We’ve certainly have more time to play together.

I sit up in bed and give Brayden a big hug. Then, I get dressed in my work uniform, as you could call it. It really consists of my only pair of brown khaki-ish pants that I own, and a company polo. They only had size medium shirts when I got hired, so some parts of me are much more accentuated than I’d like them to be. Let’s just put it this way — I’ve been offered tips. At a gas station. And I don’t pump any gas.

With time running out, I decide to break my cardinal rule of trying to get Brayden something semi nutritious for breakfast.

“Brayden, we are in a hurry. I’ve got to get you to grandma’s house so I can go to work. Would you like to split a pop-tart with me? Remember, this is a special morning. We won’t do this every day.” His eyes light up, and he starts giggling and running around. You could say he would be very interested in a pop-tart. I open the package and give him one of the two pastries. He takes cute little bits, nibbling around the edges first.

After finished our breakfast, and I use that word lightly, I make sure he is all packed and ready for the day at grandma’s. Even though I’ve had to leave Brayden in the care of someone else multiple times, it still is hard to say goodbye. You want to trust everyone, and hope for the best, but he is still your son and you want to be the one to take care of him all the time. Giving up a piece of that feels like giving up a piece of yourself.

We make it to grandma’s and I give Brayden a warm, long embrace and watch as he disappears into my mom’s house. I’m sure he’ll have a great day. As for me, it is another day and another dollar.

As I pull into the parking lot, I hear a familiar buzzing. It is him. Mr. Man is calling, and I’m almost late for work. Do I dare ignore him? He just paid me ten thousand dollars for something that, admittedly, was challenging, but only took a few hours. I’m about to work twelve hours and might get to take home a hundred and twenty dollars from that. I’m taking the call.

“I was wondering when you might call again” I reply, as if this is somewhat normal now.

“Well that make me feel all warm inside to be thought about!” He laughs. Goosebumps form all over me. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. Rodger, what a sad situation. I bet he’s happy to be out, thanks to you. It is nice to have someone I can trust who is a genuinely good person. That is why it is so hard for me to ask you to do this next task.”

I gulp. This doesn’t sound good. “I’m listening.”

“Good. You might not realize this, but I’m actually from around where you are. Some of the people I’ve associated with actually still live there. One of those people is Dr. Michael Yonowitz. He lives at 732 Sycamore Lane. Do you know him?”

His name sounds vaguely familiar. I feel like I’ve seen buildings that say something like Yonowitz Consulting or Yonowitz Data Services. Definitely somebody who must be important around here.

“Not really, but I think I’ve seen the name.”

“That isn’t too important really. In all actuality, Dr. Yonowitz has some pretty important research that I need. He works for the government and it snooping his nose around where it doesn’t belong. That is where you come in.”

I really don’t like where this headed. The clock on my car shows that I am already 10 minutes late for work. Somehow I have to wrap this up.

“So what do you need me to do?”

“Simple. You need to get into his house and take his personal laptop. Because of the secure nature of his work, he doesn’t connect it to the web. When finished, he uploads to a private server, and…” he stops himself, realizing that I’m probably the worst person to be saying those words to. I don’t have the slightest clue what he’s talking about. “…well, nevermind. That isn’t important. What is on that laptop needs to be destroyed. You need to get his laptop and find a way to dispose of it. You will also need to text me the general area and address of where you destroy it, so my associate can verify you did the job. Then, you’ll get your money.”

How many laws would I be breaking here? This is absolute insanity. I can’t really be considering agreeing with this, can I be?

“You are really asking a lot of me. If you are working with someone here, why can’t they just do this?” I thought this was a reasonable question. He does not.

He snaps back. “How is that ten thousand dollars serving you? Remember, you agreed to do this for me. There is no backing out. Not until what I need done is done. But, if you do decide this is too much for you, I understand. Just be aware that I think Brayden is a wonderful kid. I always thought I’d be a great father, and I sure could use an heir to my company.”

My heart stops for a moment. Not Brayden. Not my boy. What have I brought upon us? “You wouldn’t dare hurt my son!” I scream.

“Who said anything about hurting? I’d make sure anything we did would be completely painless. Don’t forget, if anything happens to him, it is on you. My assumption is you’ll carry out my orders today, and I’m expecting a call by midnight to notify me of your success in this mission. Don’t let me down.” And just like that, I’m alone in my car.

The thought of losing Brayden brings me to tears. My eyes are bursting dams, and I begin sobbing so hard I worry about someone coming to my car. Why did this come to me? Why did I agree? I feel so incredibly stupid right now. I’ve worked so hard for Brayden to make it. Some things are just too good to be true. And now. Now I’m about to become a criminal. With the threat made to my boy, I don’t have a choice.

Even though I’ve been in the parking lot for over a half an hour now. I decide that I’m going to have to call in. That is one benefit of the money — missing work isn’t so painful. I’d much rather go to work than do what I’m about to do. I pull myself out of the parking lot, and after driving back to my apartment, call my boss, making up some lie about Brayden being sick. I’m becoming a worse person by the minute. It is one thing to lie. It is another to wrap Brayden up in it.

Now, I have to think. How exactly does one go about gaining access to someone’s house? I’ve never done this before, if that wasn’t obvious. Plenty of movies show people breaking and sneaking into houses all the time. In several occasions, people wait outside the house until the occupant leaves. That sounds like the best option. I’ve got the entire day open now, so at least time is on my side.

I plug the address into my phone. 15 minutes away. A nice, short little drive. It is actually in the opposite direction from town. Based on the satellite images, it looks like a subdivision, so it won’t be weird for a parked car to be sitting there. I begin my drive.

I haven’t visited this town often. In fact, I rarely, if ever, leave my town. It has everything we need — some fast food restaurants, Wal-mart, and my mom. I’ve never had enough money or time with Brayden to go anywhere. One day, I’m hoping to drive him over to Green Bay to check out Lambeau Field. He loves the Packers’ stuff that I buy him from Goodwill. Thankfully, he is young enough that he isn’t very picky about that. I, myself, am not a huge football fan, but we go watch the games occasionally with my mom and dad, and Brayden really gets into it. One day, I hope I can bring him to where they play.

As I arrive in the general vicinity of my destination, I realize this subdivision is much different than the one my parents live in. First of all, the houses are more spread out. Secondly, the houses are much, much bigger. Some, it appears, are either three stories, or a sprawling complex. Houston, we’ve found the money. Suddenly, I don’t feel so bad taking something from someone here. I’ve been struggling for all of these years while the people up here are living so comfortably. I’m sure they wouldn’t miss anything that I’d take. However, something tells me Dr. Yono-whatever his name is will probably miss the item in my objective.

Here we are. 732 Sycamore Lane. It looks empty right now, but that is hardly scientific. The garage doors, of which there are three, are closed. It is still light out, obviously, so there aren’t any obvious lights. I’m going to need to walk around and inspect the house. If he is gone now. then now is the time to get in there. That would require me to get up to the house and see that it is indeed empty. I’m shaking, but I’ve run through the scenarios in my mind for the last 30 minutes, so I feel like an expert ninja. Naturally, I trip and fall as I exit my car. Great start, ninja.

I walk up the somewhat long driveway and, instead of heading for the front door, skirt around the left side of the house. Thankfully, this house doesn’t appear to have more than two stories. Where the laptop is, who knows. It might not even be in there. What would I do then? I better perish the thought.

The property is well landscaped, with a good variety of plants, shrubs, and trees. It makes it relatively easy to sneak around and not feel too out in the open. It is also around ten in the morning. Most people in a neighborhood this ritzzy are probably off at their jobs making the money it takes to afford to live here. Who knows, if it weren’t for Brayden happening, I might have been on my way to live in one of these. After all, I’d been accepted to the University of Wisconsin — Madison during my senior year. It was going to be perfect too, as my boyfriend was also accepted there. He did get to go there. I’m sure he had fun. But, you can’t live life full of regret. I’d take Brayden over that any day of the week.

I come upon my first window. The blinds are closed, but I try and align my eyes just right to see through the little cracks. It looks dark inside. If anything was moving, I’d probably see it. Time to head around to the back.

Each window, the same story. Mostly dark inside, except for the little of sunlight making its way in. I decide that now is the time. Before I got in, though, I take a few minutes and think about what to say if I get caught. Do I go with the poor, beggar approach. “I’m sorry, I was just so hungry. Your house was open. I wasn’t going to take much. Please, just let me go. I had to leave my child at home to do this.” That could work. Sufficiently sappy enough. They’ll probably just chase me out. Getting caught now is as good as saying goodbye to my son. I can’t afford to fail here.

I make my way back around to the front and try the door. It turns and opens. I’m not sure if this is a break, an omen, or an obvious sign that someone is home. In any case, I am committed. I swing the door open and tip toe inside.

The house itself is very open. There is a stairwell in the direct middle that spirals around and goes to the second floor. Pretty. I bet Brayden would love to try sliding down this thing. To my left appears to be the kitchen and dining room area, and to my right appears to be living space and other rooms. Thankfully, enough light is making its way in that I don’t have to risk turning on any lights. I slowly walk my way into the living area to my right. Some books lay on a table, and there is a desktop computer in this room. But no laptop. I continue onward down a hallway.

It looks like two rooms are on the left, two rooms on the right, and another at the end of the hall. Man this place is huge. I try the first door on my right — it isn’t a room at all — but actually stairs to a basement. Let’s avoid that for now. Too many horror movies end badly when someone is dumb enough to go into the basement. Next is what appears to be a guest bedroom. On my left is a bathroom, and a rather large closet. At the end of the hall is likely the master bedroom. It is gigantic. It might be bigger than my entire apartment. It has been neatly put back together, so however lives here is either very meticulous, or hires a cleaning service. I’m not sure of any around here, but then again, I’m not exactly in the right income bracket for something like that. No laptop in any of these places.

Heading back down the hall, I complete a first floor sweep through the kitchen and dining room. It barely looks like anyone lives here. My apartment is always a mess. This house is immaculate. Enough oohing and aweing — it is time to head upstairs. Off to the left is another pair of rooms across from each other. Both appear to be some kind of study or office combination. One would imagine a laptop being in there. Sure enough, on the desk near the window at the back of the office, is the device I’m looking for. Thank god. I’m not sure how to go about destroying this, but I’ll figure that out. Before I touch it, however, I stop and think about what I’m about to do. When I walked into the house, the door was unlocked. Therefore, I really didn’t break in, and even though I probably shouldn’t have done that, I don’t feel as bad. But, once I pick up this laptop, the second I walk out that door, I am committing a crime. A felony. I’m stealing something extremely valuable, if I’m to believe Mr. Man. This is the point of no return.

What are my alternatives. Do I call the police about the threat to my son? It isn’t like they can keep me under surveillance all day and all night. Besides, what do I tell them. “Oh, hey, you should help me, because some crazy man with a silly made up name is paying me a ton of money to commit crimes for him.” Yeah, that sounds like a completely normal and plausible scenario. Maybe once I make more money doing things for Mr. Man, then I can think about running away. Just grab Brayden and start driving. Somewhere out west. Remote. Some place where he won’t be able to track us down. I shudder to think of what happens next. If this is only my first real task for him, what might the last one look like?

Under my breath, I ask God for forgiveness. I’m not really religious, but if I make it out of this alive, that could change. At that moment, I gather my courage, unplug the laptop, and begin to walk out of the office. It is about that time I hear the front door slam shut. I’m not longer alone in this house.

I freeze. My breath now sounds like an industrial fan. I concentrate as hard as I can to slow it. Around the room, there doesn’t appear to be much cover. Instead of hiding it out here, I take the laptop with me and dart across to the other room. A couch and some other furniture is sitting inside. It looks like I’ll have a place to hide. Before I do that, I hang out in the hallway. I should be able to hear them come up the steps with enough time to hide. If I don’t listen for them, I may miss an opportunity to get out of here. The back of my mind is screaming at me. “It isn’t too late. You can put the laptop back. You can come clean. You can get out of this.” And maybe I can. But this was no longer just about me. The moment he mentioned Brayden, everything about this changed.

I listen closely to footsteps. It sounds like just one person has entered the house. They are walking away from me, so they must be headed to one of the rooms on the far end, where I first investigated. Then, I hear a door open, and then close in the direction that the occupant was walking. Time to make my move. I hold the laptop in one arm, and scurry low along the floor, using my other arm for balance. I get to the spiral staircase, look around. The coast is clear. I quickly make my way down, careful to keep my feet as light as possible. Once I’m at the bottom, I’m ready to make a break for the door. I take one last look. No movement. No noise. I make my way to the door, open it, and step outside.

And find myself face to face with who I presume is Dr. Yonowitz.

“Is that my laptop?!?” He exclaims, incredulously. I freeze. My brain is a lump of jelly at this point. I can’t move. I can’t breath. The man himself isn’t imposing. He is actually only a little taller than me, with a pretty significant bald spot, glasses from the 70s, and a surprisingly modern shirt, tie, and pants combo. “You look scared out of your mind. I’ll make you a deal. Give that back to me, tell me why you have that and I’ll let you go. No need to get the cops involved.”

I’m at the crossroads. On one hand, I could maybe outrun him to my car, and get away. He could always get my license plate and still find me that way. But it is the only clear way to keep my son safe. On the other, I come clean, tell him everything, and maybe he can help me. It then becomes clear to me. Being a mother, there is nothing more important in the world than my son, and being a great mother to my son. What kind of message do I send him, if we make it through this, that breaking the law is the way to making money? If I comply with this madman, I’m not any better than he is. I’m terrified of losing my son, but maybe we can still get away. In fact, I have an idea of where to start.

“Well, young lady, what will it be?” says the doctor. I’m impressed with his patience.

Sheepishly, trembling so much I think I might drop it, I hand the man back his property. A huge weight feels like it has been lifted off my shoulders, only to feel like a bomb goes off inside of me when I know what this could mean. I instantly regret this decision.

“Thank you. I knew you weren’t a bad person. Now tell me, what could you possibly want with this computer?” asks Dr. Yonowitz. It is time to come forward with the truth.

I speak up, quietly. My voice cracks as I push back the tears. “You are Dr. Yonowitz, right?” He nods, looking a little surprised that I knew his name. “Well, I have a long story I think you need to hear. But before I do that, I need to make a phone call. I left my cell phone in the car, do you mind if I use one of yours?”

He responds “Well if that is what you need for us to get to the bottom of this, then I suppose I should let you do that. Please, come back inside. With my permission, this time.”

We head back into the house. His wife, I presume, is making some food in the kitchen, looks genuinely surprised to see me. Hopefully she doesn’t read too much into this. The doctor motions me to the downstairs living area. “Here is a phone you can use. Who might you be calling? I can’t let you just call someone to help you rob me.”

“No, it is nothing like that. You’ll know soon enough. I just need to make sure my son is okay. It is really important that he and my mom come here and listen to what I have to say.”

He nods, as he appears to understand. He then walks over to the kitchen to brief his wife on what exactly is going on.

I pick up the phone and dial my mom’s phone number. Ring. Ring. Ring. Come on mom, answer the call! Finally, I hear a click on the other side.

“Hello, who am I speaking to?”

“Hi mom.”

“Is that you Maggie? Why aren’t you calling from your phone? Are you okay?”

“Actually, mom. I’m not. I need you to get Brayden, and drive over to 732 Sycamore Lane. Please hurry. I’m afraid I’ve done something terribly stupid, and Brayden is in trouble because of me.” She says she is on her way, and hangs up. I’m safe, for now. I’m just praying and hoping that this morning wasn’t the last time I ever get to see my little boy.