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The Heist

Jacque Demerrier was a well-known fashion designer. The clothes that he designed were cutting edge. The materials he used were always of the highest quality. To be invited to one of his private fashion shows was a privilege that was shared to few. 

Invitations for these events came with a day’s notice. His next one was scheduled for the following day.

Having found out the time and place of this show, Alicia knew that she had little time to prepare. She worked through the night designing the apparel and equipment that she would need. For this to work, it had to be timed perfectly. 

The show was to be held at Demerrier’s secret garden. The garden was hidden away in the backstreets of a town in Pennsylvania. It was a small patch of land surrounded by trees. The trees were so densely packed that the garden had only one way to get in and out. Or so one thought. Alicia knew different. 

All the exotic plants and vegetation that were in this garden, had to be illuminated by special plant lights. It was pitch black otherwise beneath the canopy of leaves. These lights were on a timer so that the garden could simulate night and day. Surrounding the inside outer ring of the garden were displays of some of Demerrier’s famous apparel he had created, each in a glass case, under lock and key. Demerrier’s prized possession was his cacao tree as was the dress and handbag that were displayed there. 

The night of the show began. Invitees entered through a passage to the garden, showed their invitations, and were taken to chairs located in the garden’s center. They all faced a raised walkway that came out from the trees on the north side of the garden. It was from there that the models made their entrance to display whatever Demerrier had decided to unveil that night. 

Alicia entered the garden wearing a knockoff Nina Ruched Beaded-strap Maxi dress, colored tawny brown. She had on low-heeled Saint Laurent brown 85 leather sandals. She had on a wig displaying long-stylish brunette locks of hair, to cover her short blonde true colored hair. 

She handed the forged invitation to the attendant, who barely glanced at it as he focussed on the beauty of the woman who handed it to him and let her pass. He did not even notice the small tote bag that she carried with her. She found a seat perfectly placed for the crime that was about to be committed. 

The lights dimmed as the presentation began. This show’s theme was “Cooked to Perfection” All of the apparel being modeled was based on the rich colors of different foods. In fact, the dyes used in creating these clothes were plant-based. 

Alicia looked at her watch. The time was right. She pulled out a remote control device from her bag and flipped the switch. Immediately all of the lights went out. The emergency generators failed to go on. There was complete blackness. There were some startled cries and then movement. Some people were rushing towards where they thought the entrance was. Some had small flashlights and tried to lead the way. It was way too crowded to see anything.

It didn’t take long before there was a strange sound which sounded like a zipper being pulled down, a crash of glass, and that same sound of what appeared to be a zipper being pulled up. Suddenly the lights came back up. 

There was much confusion amongst the people in the garden. Some had stayed seated. Others were all over the garden apparently having tried to find the exit in the dark. And others stared at the cacao tree and pointed up to the tree-covered branches. 

Hanging from the trees was a zip line, nothing was attached to it. Though the cacao tree was unharmed, the display of Jacque Demerrier’s prize Chocolate dress and handbag was empty, except for a Hershey’s chocolate candy bar resting in the display case. There was a note attached to the bar saying, “Loved the show, thanks for the dress and handbag. I’m sure you’ll enjoy my payment in kind.”  It was left unsigned. 

What happened to the dress and handbag? Where is Alicia now? These are all questions that are left unanswered. How do you follow a trail of chocolate in a town that is known for chocolate?

One person’s trash is another person’s…

He wasn’t supposed to find out. 

Every Monday, was garbage day. Everyone in the neighborhood put out their garbage for the Sanitation trucks that came by to collect them. The problem was I didn’t want my parents to find out what I had in my garbage, so instead of adding it to our house garbage, I would sneak out early in the morning and put the contents I wanted to keep hidden from them in my neighbor’s garbage can. No one was the wiser. My parents didn’t know and my neighbor didn’t know. I mean, who goes out to check their garbage once it’s out on the street to see what’s in it. I never put my trash on the top. I always buried it somewhere deep within my neighbor’s can. 

Of course, that was until today.

I was looking for the final project report that I was supposed to submit to my history teacher. I only had one copy. There was no backup. I looked everywhere for it. It should have been on my desk. There was a blank spot on the desk where it should have been. Then, I noticed on the floor right by the desk where the report should have been was an empty waste basket. 

“You’ve got to be kidding!” I muttered out loud. Could it have fallen off of my desk into the garbage that I had recently put into my neighbor’s garbage can?

My mother heard me and wanted to know if there was a problem. 

I answered pretty quickly, “No problem. Everything’s fine.”

What was I to do? If I didn’t hand in the report today, I would get a failing grade, which meant, at the least, summer school. What my parents would do to me if I failed, I didn’t even want to think about. I had to get the report back. 

So off I went to my neighbor’s driveway. Lucky for me it was still early enough and the garbage hadn’t been picked up yet. I opened up the can and sorted through it until I found the bag that belonged to me. It was then that my neighbor, hearing a noise outside and believing that there was a dog or raccoon, digging through his garbage came out and saw me. 

“What are you doing messing through my garbage?” he shouted at me. 

I had to think quickly. “I..I..noticed that someone must have knocked your garbage can over so I was just picking it up and putting everything back in.” I hoped that excuse would suffice. 

“Thank you,” was his reply, “That’s very kind of you.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. 

But then he said, “What’s that bag you have in your hand? It doesn’t look like one of mine.”

I stammered, “Right… this would be the one I was going to put in our garbage can when I noticed yours on the ground. I guess I never let go of it?”

My neighbor looked at me suspiciously, waited a moment, and then said, “Well then, you better go put it into your garbage can.”

“Good idea,” I responded, which is exactly what I did.

I waited a while and when I was sure he was back in his house, I retrieved my garbage and looked in it. The report was not there. 

I put the bag back in our garbage can and went back inside the house. My father was standing in the living room. He had my report in his hand. 

“Thanks for letting me read this report,” he said, “you should get a good grade. It was well written.” 

Of course! That’s what I did with the report. I gave it to my dad. My life had been spared. All is well in Camelot.

My father then asked, “I was just looking out the window before you came in from outside. What was in the bag that you took from our neighbor’s garbage can?”

A Day in the Woods

The day ended with easing into a hot bath, soaking until you could see all the wrinkles on my fingers. Then putting on my pjs and sitting in my favorite chair with my cat purring on my lap as I slowly drifted off to sleep, trying to forget the miserable day that I just completed. 

It started in the morning when I decided to go for a walk in the woods. I made myself a light lunch, put it in my backpack, and set off. It started out nice. The gentle breeze blowing through my hair was very calming. I walked for a while, when all of a sudden I began to feel dizzy. It might have been that I hadn’t eaten any breakfast that morning. So I decided to sit down. I opened up my backpack to see if I had any water, which I did. I took it out and had a sip of water. Still feeling dizzy, I decided to close my eyes and rest for a while. 

Did you ever go camping, stop for a while, take something out of your backpack, forget to close the backpack, and go to sleep? You never know who or what might take an interest in its contents. 

I must have dozed off for a while. I was not dizzy anymore, but was definitely hungry. I decided that I would partake of my lunch. I stuck my hand into my backpack and grabbed for the sandwich I had made. I felt something very slimy. I knew it was not the peanut butter and jelly sandwich I had made. I pulled my hand out to discover that I had managed to grab hold of a giant slug. I quickly threw it away and opened my mouth real wide and screamed. 

Have you ever heard the term, “having butterflies in your stomach” and thought it only meant being nervous. Trust me, when you have your mouth open wide and an erratic flying butterfly sees an open landing pad and heads straight for it, you should never gulp in disgust. The outcome is literally, you have a butterfly in your stomach.

I couldn’t have felt more angry for being as stupid as I was today. My lunch was ruined. I was feeling dizzy again. My stomach was just gurgling around. It kind of felt like I had swallowed a whole bar of modeling clay and my stomach was creating some grotesque sculpture of creepy animal parts. 

I couldn’t wait to get home. I’m sure tomorrow will bring better luck. It’s supposed to be cool and sunny again. This time I’ll be more prepared. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?

It was before…

It was just before noon when the call came. I wasn’t expecting one, and certainly not one from her. I recognized her voice right away. She said she had to see me. It was important. Could I meet her by the bridge?

I didn’t have to ask her what bridge since there was only one bridge on our island that crossed over the river to the mainland. The one where I last saw her. 

I quickly finished my lunch and headed out, not knowing what to expect. I hadn’t heard from her since college and that was 20 years ago. 

I pictured in my mind what she might look like. My last meeting with her, was when we broke up. She was crying then. It was something that had to be done. She said it had to be a clean breakup, but never gave me the reason why. 

I remember her walking away from me, slowly and then breaking into a run, to get away as fast as she could. She gave me no reason for the breakup. I was distraught and angry. I thought we had something good. And that was it. I never forgot her. I pictured her constantly in my dreams, even to this day.  I never saw or heard from her again after that. That was until now. 

As I approached the bridge I noticed someone sitting on a bench. Her hair was different. She was bent over and certainly looked much older. I sat down next to her and didn’t say a word.

“I’m sorry,” was all she said. 

My only response was, “Why? Why did you leave me?”

There was a pause before she answered, “It’s complicated. I was sworn to secrecy. I wanted to tell you the truth, but that would have put your life in danger.”

Now I was really confused. She went on to tell me how she had witnessed a murder. How she was a material witness to the crime and had to be put into witness protection. How the perpetrator of the crime escaped and she was on the run. It never went to trial, for he was killed in a mob shootout. But she was still a target. So she changed her name and kept on moving. She left the country and cut all ties with anyone that knew her. 

“So why did you come back now?” I asked. 

Again she paused. “Because I couldn’t leave your question about us be unanswered. I cared for you then as I care for you now.”

I began to feel warmth in my heart. Those feelings from 20 years ago began to stir. “Does that mean you are coming back to me? Can we pick up where we left off?”

It was then that she began to cry again. “No. As much as I would like it to be so, it still can never be. They’re still looking for me and I fear that they will catch up to me soon. I just wanted you to know.”

And then she was gone, just like before.

I guess I got the answers I was looking for after all those years. For me, it was better not knowing. I still keep her in my dreams. Only this time, I know the love is still alive.