Untitled Piece

If there’s anything I love more than coffee and using people, it’s Christmas time.

And it’s not cause of that Christmas spirit crap with family and friends and stuff. I never really had much of that in my life to begin with. The only reason this holiday is any good for is the free food and money. What I mean is that people get real careless this time of year with how busy it gets, which gives me more opportunities to possibly “borrow” a few things from Silver’s Electronics Store or take a couple of hot dogs from Eddie’s hot dog stand down on East Station Lane when the guy is taking a lunch break. And trust me, their hot dogs are good.

If you think I’m being an asshole, don’t. The people who own the places I mentioned are filthy rich, and that’s not even all of the dirtbags. They’re the type of filthy rich where you have so much money you start spending on stupid stuff you don’t even need, like, a GoldenToast 900 cause nothing says luxury like a voice-activated hunk of gold! But seriously, if they had any ounce of empathy for us regular folks instead of hoarding all that money, maybe I wouldn’t feel the need to steal. Maybe.

Let’s just cut to the chase, right? So I was standing in line waiting to buy my late afternoon cup of coffee down at Sleazy Mike’s Coffee shop just last Tuesday. It’s a small coffee shop in North Harlem, with a quaint and warm atmosphere that’s perfect for catching up with someone or finish that book you never got around to reading. The name isn’t the most appealing and it’s not close to home at all, but they sure know how to brew a damn good cup.

As I waited in line, I noticed the guy ordering in front of me wearing some old-looking wristwatch I’d never seen before. The strap was polished dark brown leather, with the watch’s rim a dark gold to perfectly accompany it. Looking closer at it, I noticed a small crown symbol on the inside of it. Now I’m the last person to ask about watches, but just from looking at it, I could tell that it was worth at least two months of groceries. Which is why I didn’t hesitate to “accidentally” bump into him, which ruined his expensive-looking suit with coffee.

“Sorry.” I muttered.

The man mumbled a bunch of profanities and shot me a nasty look as he left to grab a bunch of napkins. You see what I mean? Bunch of self-righteous asses. Taking advantage, I snatched the first cup of coffee the moment the barista called out some guy's name (And no, my name is not actually John) and left the shop quickly. As soon I started walking, I took it out of my pocket: my brand new watch.

It really does just get easier every single time.

I started walking back home as soon as possible. It started snowing again, and north Harlem isn’t exactly a quick walk to Longwood. Not to mention it was getting darker, but at least the guy from the coffee shop wouldn’t go looking after for me. Still, New York’s a dangerous city, especially at night in this part of town.

Upon reaching South Boulevard, I took a turn in the alleyway between the 7-Eleven and the Big Bottle and entered through the back door of the bar. Sneaking past the kitchen, I made my way back to the front without anyone noticing. The back bar was stacked with cheap booze, stuff you could buy at the 7-Eleven next door, and decorated with cheap Christmas lights and stickers covering the counter. The clacking of eight balls mixed with the old rock music playing in the background gave the dimly lit bar a laid-back atmosphere despite all the usual chatter from the regulars.

Listen, when I said I was walking home, I didn’t mean my actual house. I’ve been coming to this place for years now, which by definition could make it a second home. Hell, even the owner of the place has a spot made for me.

“Pops!” I shout as I walk towards the counter.

He yelped and clutched his hand in his chest. Pops wasn’t the owner’s real name—well, actually, I don’t even know what his real name was; it was just what we all call him. He’s an old guy who’s been running the Big Bottle for longer than I’ve known him. Short and kinda stumpy, you’d think a guy like him in his late 50s would’ve retired by now. But Pops is always so damn stubborn with how the workers run the place, so he refuses to quit. But he always means well so you just can’t hate him.

“Boy, you scared me half to death! I thought somthin’ happened—” He noticed my shiny new wrist with an eyebrow raised. “Say, when’d you get into watches?”

“Oh, this? Well, you know, it’s rude to say no to a gift, right?”

He huffed as he poured a drink to a weird man I hadn’t seen here before, but I didn’t pay him much mind. “Hmph, someone giving a gift to you? And a Roe-lex? I mean, who doesn't get handed a luxury watch while strollin’ through life, hm? Must be your normal Tuesday, right?"

“Jealousy’s not a good look on you old man,” I joke as I sit down on a stool. “You keep stressing more, you’re gonna have to start investing in a good hair dye. Hey, where are the Durley twins and Rowey? We were supposed to meet up tonight.”

“Haven’ seen em’ in since yesterday,” Pops says as he hands the man his receipt.

“Damn, and I was gonna try slinging this watch off to them. Hey, what is a Roe-lex anyways?”

“Look here, boy. You’re getting too cocky, and one of them days you’re gonna try to snag, and end up snagging a blue and–”

“–And I’ll get arrested, and thrown in jail, and my future ruined, yeah, yeah. You tell me this every time I show you something new.

“Cause I dead mean it!”

“Yeah, whatever,” I mumble as I start getting up to leave. “I’m heading out. If you see the guys, tell them I got some new stuff and to swing by my place. Or actually, I might just head down and see if the pawn shop’s open still.”

“Hey!” Pops yells out to me. “Don’t keep messin’ around with this stuff, kid!”

But I was already out the door.

Walking outside on New York City’s winter nights is not my favorite way to pass the time. The wind worsened and sent the snow flying as I kept walking, which felt like an icy stab to my chest. Accidentally stepping into a slush puddle while crossing the street didn’t help matters either.

“Great,” I mumbled.

The pawnshop was just a few blocks down, but given how empty the street, I’m guessing it was probably closed. As I was walking, I stared up at the windows of the apartment building next to me, with a couple windows glowing faintly in the dark. I noticed a particular one on the second floor; a small Christmas tree, decorated with rainbow lights just like at Pop’s and with a bunch of random ornaments hanging on it. Two little girls gathered around it, smiling and talking, probably about Santa Claus.

It still amazes me how people moved on so quickly as if five years ago didn’t even happen. I guess people chose to forget things like that to keep their heads and feelings sane. After all, it’s not like the kids know anything anyway. Maybe that’s just what it’s all about, to make it so we’ll eventually forget.

As I was turning the corner, I saw that weird man from the bar again. We were walking in opposite directions, but something just felt weird to me. Something felt off. Maybe it was just the comically large coat or the fact I couldn’t make out his face now nor at Pop’s, but something about him made him feel…mystifying.

The smaller the distance got between us the slower he was walking, and that did not help my anxiousness. He was probably listening to my and Pop’s conversation from earlier. What if he was a cop undercover? Maybe he was looking into Pop’s unpaid permits, or was it that he knew he had an association with me? Is he gonna arrest? No, not for a watch. Maybe over some of my, um, past jobs…

I put my hood up and started walking faster, practically running, to just get ahead. This watch seriously wasn’t giving me any luck. The sooner I get rid of it, the better. But thankfully, I managed to pass him without any issues.

“Excuse me.”

I froze.

Run, you idiot!

I slowly turn around. Guess with the way my head was down, I didn’t end up realizing how big this guy was. He was wearing all dark clothes, and I couldn’t make out his face in the dark. The man took a few steps towards me.

“I, uh, saw you at the bar from earlier talking to the owner and well, you seem like a local so–” He chuckled awkwardly. I didn’t laugh.

“Anyways, I was wondering if you, uh, know where to find this address? 8841 North Mill Street?”

“Yeah, you just gonna go straight down your way, turn a left, and if you keep going you’ll see a kinda crooked lamp post. It’s the first building right after it.”

“Well, thank you.”

I could feel the tension still thickening between us. My face must've looked petrified cause Shady Man let out a laugh.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m no snitch for a watch. Oh, and a ‘Ro-lex’? Used to be a be a luxury brand of Swiss watches around seventy years ago. Pretty hard to come by these days.”

Swiss? Like the cheese?

“Why are you telling me?”

He shrugged. “Consider it a payment for your troubles. Just don't get caught, kid.”

With that, Shady Man walked away, and I was left standing there, dazed with paranoia and relief. Thoughts started racing through me as I was walking

I nodded awkwardly, still feeling the weight of the encounter hanging in the air. As the mysterious man walked away, disappearing into the wintry night, a sense of paranoia and relief came over.

Turning away from the direction of the pawnshop, I decided to head home instead. I mean, home was even closer than the shop and after that encounter, I really didn’t feel like walking alone at night anymore. After 25 more minutes of cursing and walking, I found myself in front of my apartment building. The tired brick exterior weathered many cold winters, just like its residents. Just entering the heated lobby eased my nerves, even if it was just a little.

The old stairs creaked as I walked up to the second floor, and there, right by my apartment door, a garden gnome named Mr. Periwinkle, wearing a mini Santa hat, sat perched on a small shelf near my doormat. I snatched the key from under his hat and opened the door.

“Hey, I’m home.”

No answer came. The living room light however was dimly lit.

“Libby?”

A man’s voice shouts from the back.

“Good evening, Mr. Charles.”

Now before I go any further, you need to know two things. Libby’s my little sister. Not only that, she’s my only family left and we’ve always stuck together. I love her to death and she’s the only thing I got going for me.

But the other thing? Oh, just a random man and woman in suits talking with my sister.

God, I hate it when Pops is right. I really gotta get rid of this watch.

___________________________________________________________________

To any readers,

This is not a story I'm looking to develop any further, but rather as a sort of exercise for myself. If any of you have any critique or commentary or any sort of advice that can help me develop better structure, tone, character voice, or anything else please let me know!

Thank you.