A. Goodman Down

Avery showed up to the spot, dressed all in black, gloves included.  A dark Jaguar with overly-tinted windows sat on the curb, looking ready and willing to partake in the night’s criminal activities.  Bernard resembled a grizzly bear as he loaded the trunk.  Another muscular guy helped.  Nobody spoke as they prepared to leave.  Eventually, Bernard broke the silence as he fastened the trunk.

“I got one rule, guys.  Do whatever I say.  Do that and we’ll have no problems.  Avery, you drive.”  He tossed him the key.

They hopped in: Avery in the driver’s seat, Bernard in the passenger’s seat, the other guy in the back.

“Why you ain’t let me drive, B?”

“Did I say you should drive?”

“No.”

“Then, that’s why you not driving, kid.  Avery, this my little brother, Calvin.”

“Call me Pit, bruh.”

“He makes his money breeding and fighting dogs.”

“The only sixteen-year-old in St. Louis with his own empire.”

“Empire?  Boy, you got ten dogs that I bought you sitting behind my house.  These kids get a hundred-dollar bill in they pocket and think they ballers and shot callers.”

“Kid?  You only seven years older than me.  Without me, you wouldn’t even be able to do this tonight.  And I got eleven dogs: ten pits and a rottweiler.”

As you can see, Calvin Winston wasn’t lacking in confidence.  He was a miniature version of Bernard.  Avery couldn’t believe he was only sixteen.  He would have been a pro football player if he were that size; he thought to himself.

“Why you bring this skinny dude along, B?”  Calvin couldn’t shut himself up.

“That skinny dude would whoop your butt.  Trust that.”

“Him?  You must know that karate stuff.  The black Bruce Lee.”

“Naw.  I used to train as a boxer.  Did pretty good till I messed up my shoulder messing with one of them southpaws from Puerto Rico.”

“Alright, ya’ll, let’s lay out the ground rules,” Bernard interrupted.

“Ground rules?”  Calvin frowned.  “You said the only rule is do what you say.”

“That’s right.  I’m saying shut up and listen to the other rules.  I’m finna tell you everything we gone do, dummy.  First, don’t take off yo’ gloves till I say take ‘em off.  We’ll go over the rest when I see the layout of the place.”

“Don’t you think they gone suspect us three when they figure out what happened?”  Avery thought out loud.  “We ain’t got no alibis.”

“Took care of that already.  I got forty dudes at my place ready to say me and Cal was there all night.”

“What about me?”

“They won’t suspect a clean-cut boy like you.”

“I killed once.  They’ll think I killed again.”

“I’ll have them cover for you too.”

“Why I gotta wear these gloves now, Bernard?”  Calvin was frustrated.  “It’s too hot.  I’ll put ‘em back on when we get there.”

“No!”  Bernard’s expression intensified.  “I don’t want nobody lifting our prints off nothing!  Not they place, not this car, not yo clothes, not even a pine tree.”

“Man, whatever; how long is this ride, ya’ll?”  Calvin was fatigued of Bernard’s rules.

“Bout another forty-five minutes,” Avery yawned.

Ten minutes later, Calvin had fallen asleep and the conversation fell off significantly.

“You got kids, Bernard?”  Avery grew tired of the silence that led to drowsiness.

“I got a daughter.  At least that’s what the mama say.  You never know with these women.  They’ll pick whoever look like he got the most money.”

Avery laughed, “You must know my ex-wife.  She the worst one in Missouri.”

“I just know the type, man.  Can’t trust these hoes and can’t turn ‘em into no housewives neither.  Turn right up here, man.”

“Alright,” Avery made the turn.  “I never told you this, but I’m sorry about yo’ brother.  Just so you know, I’m all in.”

“That’s good,” Bernard sat forward, “cause we here.  Wake up, Cal.”

“I don’t see nothing,” Calvin wiped the slobber from his chin.  “You got us in the middle of the woods for what?”

“Bout five minutes up that way is a log cabin, baby bruh.”

“How you know that?”

“Cause my boy left a white mark on that tree while wearing his gloves.  Now, let’s get out of the car.”

Avery began to sweat a bit from nervousness.  What if they were awake?  What if they had a lookout?  What if someone drove down the path and caught them?  Avery voiced his questions as they popped into his head.

“Yea,” Calvin was just as concerned.

“Relax, chickens.  It’s nearly midnight in Creekwater.  This ain’t like the city.  Towns like this die around ten.  By now, everybody’s in their beds knocked out, except that one dude with insomnia counting niggas hanging from trees so he can fall asleep.”  Bernard tossed that little joke out there.  It didn’t work.

“What if somebody see the car and write down the tag?”  Calvin added his own question.

“This ain’t even my car ya’ll.  I had it stolen from Atlanta and the tags stolen from Detroit and I’ll probably dump it and burn it somewhere else.  You think I’m dumb enough to bring my own car?”

“What if the owners report it stolen and the cops find it?”

“So?  They won’t find our prints or DNA.  I got everything in control, Avery.  The owners are in Paris till Monday.  I’ll put the correct tag on before I burn it.  It’s all good.”

“What about…?”  Calvin started again.

“New rule,” Bernard cut him off.  “No more questions.  Let’s walk down here and see what’s up.”

They walked to the portion of the road where the descent began.  There was a little log cabin at the bottom where many a clan member had met throughout history.  The cabin had been there since 1928 and not one Black person who had walked onto that property ever left alive.  Bernard was intent on changing that.

“You got your two gas cans, Calvin?”  Bernard examined the layout.  “Avery has his.”

“Yep.”

“Looks like everyone is asleep.  I haven’t seen a lookout either,” Bernard examined his weapon.  “Sleep on.  The death angel is on the way.”

Calvin had gotten his courage back, but Avery was still as uneasy as a turkey strutting through the South in November.  The walked seemed to take forever.

“Another thing.  Let me do all the talking.  I don’t want ya’ll waking them up before it’s time.  Come on, we’re almost there.”

The three of them peeked in the window to assess as much as they could from the moonlight.

“Good,” Bernard spoke to himself.  “They’re all in there asleep in the open room.  Let’s block the back door with that big boulder.”

It took the three of them to get it to the door.

“Alright, Calvin; leave those gas cans sitting there.”

A noise in the woods startled Avery, but it was only a gray squirrel in the trees.

“Quit being scary,” Bernard shook his head.  “Alright, guys.  Let’s do this and do it right.  Leave all the gas cans outside the door.  Avery, bring the knives.”

They walked to the front door and Calvin worked his specialty: picking locks.

“You ready, Ave?”  He sighed and nodded in response to Bernard.  “You ready, Cal?”  He responded with a nod as well.  “Alright.  Let’s go in here and handle this like men.  Ride or die.”