A Good Plan

I hadn’t been cuffed more than 30 minutes and I was already feeling claustrophobic. The cop put me in the back of the police car alone. They had Steve cuffed and were talking to him on the sidewalk. I laid my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. How did Steve and I end up breaking into a bicycle shop? Twelve hours ago we were sitting on my front porch passing a bottle of Jack between us. Men can come up with some really good ideas when Jack is helping them think, men can also come up with some really stupid ideas thanks to Jack.

It was 2:00 in the afternoon when Steve came over to my house. He wasn’t working, but would sometimes get an odd job here and there, never anything steady. I couldn’t say much about him not working, I wasn’t working either. The factory laid me off and hadn’t called me back. Steve stayed with his sister and her husband most of the time, unless he did something stupid and mouthed off to them, then they would kick him out. My wife, Stacey, was working a double shift at the diner and wouldn’t be home until late, which was good since Steve and Stacey didn’t get along. Stacey and I had one son, Noah, he stayed with Stacey’s mom and dad while she worked. Steve’s hair was long and greasy, his clothes looked dirty and he smelled of a foul body odor. He sat down in the chair beside me and I wondered when he had last had a place to bathe.

“Hey Steve, how’ve been?” I greeted him as I tried to look glad to see him.

Steve looked around the porch and through the front door screen. “I’m fine, I’m cool, Stacey around?”

I laughed. “No, you’re safe, she’s working and won’t be home until late tonight.”

“Good, then let us party my friend.”

Steve opened a bottle of Jack he brought with him and took a swig. Then he handed it to me, I took a swig even though I knew it was a bad idea. We passed the bottle back and forth while we talked about old times. Steve and I had grown up together, I didn’t know him until we met at the school parking lot. He was beating up a kid, I just stood there and watched, I could have done something, but I was in awe of Steve. I was the plain, nerdy kid that got the grunt of all the bullies’ attention. He saw me standing there watching him beat the kid up and he smiled at me, then went back to beating the kid. After that day he took me under his wing and taught me to fight.

“I can’t party too hard these days, I have a wife and kid now.” I had to remind Steve that I was not the same carefree puppy that use to follow him around.

“Yeah but they aren’t here.”

“They will be and I don’t want my son seeing his father drunk, and you know Stacey would skin my hide if she comes home to me drunk.”

“Must be hard.”

“What must be hard?” I ask him, perplexed at his statement.

“Having that ball and chain around your ankle.” He laughed, I didn’t see what was so funny.

We spent the next four hours talking about old times and taking swigs of Jack. I started talking about getting laid off at the factory and not being able to find a job. I made the mistake of telling him what a rough time Stacey and I had been having without my income. It was down to me finding a job immediately or our house being foreclosed on, that’s when Steve came up with his brilliant idea thanks partially to himself and partially to Jack.

My stupidity was partially Jack and partially me, I opened my eyes and we were at the police station. The cop came around and opened the door so I could get out, I followed him into the station. He told me not to try anything, took the cuffs of me and fingerprinted me. As soon as they were done with the fingerprints I was allowed to wash my hands and was re-cuffed. The cop took me into a room with a long table and some chairs around it. Two cops came into the room and sat down across the table from me. They started asking me questions about me and Steve breaking into the bicycle shop. The questions were flying at me so, I tuned them out and my thoughts went back to Steve and I on my front porch.

Steve was taking more swigs from the bottle of Jack than I was, of course he had lots of practice. He started drinking when he was twelve and hadn’t stopped since. At 5’5”, chunky and wavy carrot red hair, he reminded me of Danny Bonaduce. The two of us were quite a contrast since I stood about 5’9”, slim and had jet black hair. I remember Steve pulling a bottle of Jack out of his backpack after school one day, he started drinking it as we walked home. We were both 13 and I idolized Steve, I told him how cool I thought he was and he was the man, drinking Jack and smoking weed. I often wondered if by me telling him how cool I thought he was and idolizing him made him drink more and not give it up. Maybe if I had told him how stupid I thought he was and how I didn’t think he was cool at all when he drank and smoked weed, maybe he would have stopped. Instead I joined him every now and then and learned how to break the law and not get caught, only this time we did get caught.

I asked the officers where Steve was, but they wouldn’t tell me. I thought about telling them that this was all a big mistake, but how can smashing in the window at the bicycle shop after it’s closed be a mistake. Instead of sitting on my porch drinking whiskey with Steve, I should have been out trying to find a job. I guess there was still a little part of me that was thinking Steve was cool. The officers left the room and left me alone sitting there handcuffed, why had things gotten so turned upside down?

We had been passing the bottle between us when Steve took the last drink, I shouldn’t have done it, I realize now, but I went and got a bottle of Jack I had in the house. I was feeling like such a failure since I lost my job, I thought I would be cool bringing out another bottle of Jack. I was telling Steve how I couldn’t find a job, how hard it was, and that we might lose the house to foreclosure. He said he could help me out and went on to tell me about a plan he had to get some easy money. I knew better, but I was still that young boy wanting to look cool to Steve. We passed the bottle between us while he told me of his plan for getting easy money. Telling how we could break into the bicycle shop downtown, take some of the bicycles and sell them. I was drunk enough to think this was a good plan, about 15 years ago I had heard another one of his good plans.

“It’s a good plan, we just break into the school and take the cash box from the school store. The school doesn’t have an alarm system and I’ve been checking it out, they never lock the school store and they always leave the cash in it.”

“Steve I don’t know, my parents would tan my hide if we get caught.”

“We won’t get caught.”

It wasn’t a good plan, we got caught and my parents tanned my hide.

Now I was faced with another good plan of Steve’s and with the help of Jack I went along with the plan, it wasn’t a good plan. Downtown was usually deserted at night, but this night it wasn’t, someone passing by saw us and called the cops. So, here I was sitting in the police station, facing time in prison and surely losing my wife and son.

The cops came back into the room, I asked them again where Steve was and this time they told me. He had tried to make a run for it, they shot at him and one of them hit their target, Steve was dead. The guy I thought was so cool was gone and I was left alone, not feeling cool and finally realizing that Steve was not my idol. He was a lost soul that I should have tried to help instead of following in his footsteps. I could have made a difference in his life, he sure made a difference in my life.