Friday, April 12, 2013

Conversations #11: Perspectives, Part 3

“How’s it goin’?”
“Eh, seen better days.”
“Hah, I feel ya.”
“Where you headed?”
“Virginia, Suffolk. You?”
“Ah. I’m headed all the way down to Florida.”
“Damn, really? Man, you’re lucky. Haha.”
“Not any luckier than the next man; I have a court date there tomorrow.”
“Ohhh…Anything serious?”
“Robbed a bank.”
“Shhh! Keep it down kid.”
“Why’d I rob it?”
“Needed the money.”
“But, I mean…you don’t have a job or nothing?”
“I was a janitor at my kid’s elementary school.”
“Maaan. And you got caught?”
“Nah, turned myself in.”
Really? After you got away with it and everything??”
“Yep. Put my little girl on a plane to Ecuador with about a million dollars waiting for her with her grandma.”
“Why Ecuador?”
“Well, I’m Ecuadorian…almost all my family is down there to look after her, and that million will carry her ‘till she’s old enough to go to college.”
“Wow…that’s some plan, man. But, hold up; why didn’t you go with her?”
“I knew I wouldn’t make it through the airport. So I laid low and took care of a few loose ends.”
“…By loose ends…”
“What was your name, again?”
“Oh, uh, Damien.”
“Chuck. Nice to meet you, kid.”
“Yeah, you too man. So…why’d you tell me all this?”
“Well, I might not be talkin’ to anyone for a long time; figured I might as well get it all out while I still have the chance…and you don’t look like a snitch.”
“What? Me? Nah, man, nah, I’m cool.”
“Uhh…So you’ll get less time for turning yourself in?”
“Exactly. I didn’t have anything to lose anyway.”
“What you mean?”
“I was about to get laid off by the school. The bank was threatening to foreclose our little bungalow. No money, no house, no car, no food…pretty soon, jail starts looking real good, you know?”
“Damn…so that’s why you sent her away.”
“Yeah. She’ll be alright without me for a few years.”
“Ahh, right, so how lo—“
“Isn’t this your stop?”
“Oh…yeah, my bad. Take it easy pal, and good luck.”
“Look out for yourself, kid.”

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