by Glenn Gamble
“Oh yeah, that’s the only time ESPN had ever been to Cactus High.”
“I threw for 700 yards that game.”
“But he won the game.”
“Jim, why you always so hard on me? You never give me any props for nothing I do.”
He saw the moisture forming in his eyes. This altered his response. “You right, you had a hell of a game, too.”
“It’s not about the game,” James said. “It’s everything. No matter how hard I try, my best is never good enough to you.”
Jim softened his voice. “You’re right. I am hard on you because I know you can do a hell of a lot better than how you’re acting. But I’ve always been proud of you.”
Tears streamed down his cheeks. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“Jim, I ain’t mean to come at you like I—“
“Yes you did,” he interrupted. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have done it, but I forgive you.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
James paused for a few moments in disbelief. He had always thought that Jim was hard on him because he was an asshole, but that wasn’t the case at all. He realized that Jim wanted him to strive to be the best man he could be. Before he met Jim, he had experienced a lifetime of neglectful parents and immature brothers. For the first time, he felt loved. He now understood why he tried so hard to win Jim’s approval.
Jim handed James’ phone back to him.
He received the phone with his good hand and examined the gadget before looking toward Jim.
“I got something to tell you,” James said. Jim’s facial expression invited him to continue. “Remember that nonconference road game we had at the University of Illinois back in September?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“I went to Chicago after the game. That’s when I got that 1-game suspension for missing the team flight.”
“I remember that, but you told me that you were boozing and goofing off with the redshirt freshmen.”
“I lied,” James said. “I went to Chicago and visited my old neighborhood. I stopped by George’s Chicken and ordered me a 7-wing with mild sauce. After I placed the order, I looked up and saw these dudes trying Jessica. She told them no, but they kept trying her. I recognized one of the cats from the 59th Street gang, the other two were new crash dummies, so I stepped outside and said what’s up.”
“Okay, go on.”
“The dude that I went to school with recognized me, but ignored me like I was a goofy. I was gonna let it slide, but they kept coming at Jessica all disrespectful. I figured that her dude was in jail because they were gutter with it. I asked them to ease up on her because she was a lady, but they told me to stay outta nation business. I told them that ain’t nation business, but they told to me stay out of it. I was going to until one of them got bold and smacked her on the ass. After that, she knocked the shit outta the guy I grew up with.”
“Damn,” Jim said. “What happened next?”
“So one dude grabbed her and stood her up and the guy who got slapped started slapping her up and ripped her shirt and bra off while the other guy started toward his car, but had to run past me to get to it.”
“I grabbed the dude and threw him headfirst into the George’s chicken shack window. The other guy told me that I violated nation law by attacking dude and he ran up on me reaching. I kicked that hand and proceeded to kick his ass for a minute until the dude who was holding Jessica came after me and took a potshot at me. Now I’m struggling with these two dudes until I hear three gunshots. I just knew that I was dead until the two dudes that I was fighting with fell to the ground. Jessica shot all three of them in the head and got me the fuck outta there.”
“And you ain’t say anything to me about this?”
“I ain’t want you to be all in my case. Besides, I took care of it.”
“And this is why she told you that I knew what happened to Chuck.”
James wiped his forehead with his good hand. “Part of it,” he said. “She needs help.”
“That’s why she sent that last text?”
“Yeah, she told me that she wants out of her relationship with Steve and that she needs my help. I told her that I couldn’t help her. She told me that if I ain’t gonna help, that she was gonna report me to the NCAA because she bought me a plane ticket to fly back.”
“Fucking opportunist, taking advantage of you.”
“That ain’t all. She also told me that Steve had gone to war with some mob guy over his territory. He got Steve put in jail for some case, but his team kept the war going with the mob guy.”
“How? If Steve’s in jail, they don’t have any money to go to war.”
“I don’t know.”
“Unless... Whatever the case, we gotta move again.”
“What? I can’t leave the University of Arizona.”
“You can if you wanna stay alive.”
“Jim, you don’t think…”
“Yes, the syndicate knows where he can find us,” he said. “I gotta go. Call me when they treat that hand.”
Chapter 15
Jim called for a taxi and ordered for the driver to take him to his residence. Offended by Jim’s arrogance and rudeness, the cab driver almost declined his request until Jim had gotten in the backseat and dropped two $100 dollar bills on the front seat.
“455 Deal Lane?” the driver asked.
“Yes, please.”
En route to his destination, Jim’s mind raced. How can this guy be so stupid? He carries on a text relationship with this woman for six months knowing that people want to kill me. What a dumb fuck? No, I’m a dumb fuck for moving him down here with my family. Nonetheless, how could Steve continue the war –from jail of all places? Did he get out? Where did he get the money to..?
Jim selected the phone number he wanted to dial from his address book. His call was picked up on the first ring.
“I didn’t expect to hear you, it’s been a while.”
“Cut the chit chat and put down the donut.”
Frank didn’t bother to swallow his dessert first before speaking. “It’s actually German Chocolate cake.”
“I don’t give a fuck about what you’re eating, why are you bankrolling Steve?”
“I had to.”
“Bullshit.”
“Jim, we’ve been friends since college. With all due respect, you’ve known me long enough where you should be able to trust my judgment.”
“Why didn’t you tell me anything, Frank?”
“I didn’t think I needed to. You’ve been in the desert for the past three years, you rarely check-in, and now that shit hit the fan, you wanna know what’s going on.”
“You’re damn right I wanna know what’s going on.”
“If you’d bring your ass to Chicago more, you’d see that I had no other choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
“Look Jim, Don Carson was breathing down my neck. He already killed the heads of a few families. He’s more powerful than ever.”
“What does that have to do with Steve?”
“Steve followed me home and to the suburban gambling spot. It was either help him keep his, I mean your south side territory or risk Steve teaming with Don Carson and taking everything we’ve worked for out here.”
“You are smarter than I give you credit for. Listen…”
“No, you listen,” Frank shouted. “We need to kill...”
“Don’t talk like that on these phones.” Jim shouted. “We’ll touch base once I touch down.”
Jim hung up the phone and called Carla, no answer. He called several more times, still no answer. Shortly after his last call, Jim instructed the cab driver to circle the block, he did. He looked at his building and saw their SUVs parked in their reserve spot next to their other vehicle. Once the driver got back around the block, Jim instructed the cab driver to park in front of the SUV and
to stay there until he crawled back in the car. He gave the driver three more $100 dollar bills and opened the back door. Jim crouched low and ran to the driver’s side door, opened it, reached under the seat and grabbed two fully loaded glocks in their twin holster then crouched low and ran back to the cab.
“Drive to the end of the block and turn the corner.”
“You’re not going to…”
“Not at all. Just do as I say and keep your mouth shut when you drop me off. I’ll tell you when.”
The driver did as he was told and dropped Jim off about a half block after he turned the corner.
Chapter 16
Jim wore his twin holster underneath his sport coat and walked toward the block behind his house. He felt a sense of urgency as he swallowed the tense feeling of possible danger in the pit of his stomach. His forehead sweated, his legs felt as if they wobbled as he shook in his boots. The last time he felt this way, junior year of college.
He kissed his then-girlfriend Karen as she boarded a Greyhound bus headed for St. Louis so that she could catch a flight back home for their three-week long semester break. She flew to Los Angeles to be with her family for the holidays, and he took the train back to Chicago. He had kissed her hundreds of times before that day, but none lingered like the kiss they shared that day. Two weeks later, she was killed at a New Year’s Eve gathering with friends. Her best friend’s abusive boyfriend killed everyone in that apartment, including himself. Karen was only 19, and her friends were around the same age. She was on the women’s cross country team and had just won the conference championship. She also qualified for the NCAA championship and placed 2nd.
Karen had a strong future ahead of her as a mechanical engineering major who excelled in her studies. He met her in cross country practice. Shortly afterwards, he fell in love with her and so did his parents. They met her at one of Jim’s track meets in Carbondale, IL. Karen’s parents were also there, and they too were fond of Jim. Her mother cried as she gave him the news of her death and asked him to be a pallbearer; he flew to LA the next day and stayed with her family for a week and kept in touch afterwards. He thought about the last kiss that he shared with Karen. Jim had no idea that it would be their last kiss.
Tears streamed down his eyes as he got closer to his building. He took the stairs to his penthouse suite. Upon his arrival, he saw that the door was open. He brandished one of his glocks. Jim held the weapon in a proper shooting stance, ready to exchange gunfire. He checked the bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchen, family room and the living room, no one. With exception of the front door being open, there were no signs of forced entry. Just a DVD on the coffee table. He slid it in the DVD player; Steve’s face appeared.
“Jim, if you’re watching this video it means that I was successful with my short-term plans. Yes, it’s me. I got my wife and your children –just coming to reclaim what’s mine and in the process lay down some ground rules. As you may have seen on the news, I’ve escaped the correctional facility where I’ve been housed for the past year. Does that ring a bell, Jim? Probably not. I want to believe that you didn’t put any money in my commissary because you didn’t know I was in jail and that you forgot, but my wife didn’t forget.
“She divorced me while I was doing my bit and then you married her, but that’s okay I forgive you. I’m sure you must be wondering, if Steve forgives me, why does he have my wife and kids? That’s because I need money, Jim! I need your last six months’ take in cash so I can skip town. Yes Jim, I know what you’re thinking. That’s a lot of money, but look at it this way. You’ll get your family back in exchange for some money that you’ll make back in no time.
“Do we have a deal, Jim? If so, meet me in Chicago in the next 24 hours. Call George’s Chicken on 73rd & Halsted. We’ll go over what needs to be done next. If I don’t hear from you by 1pm central time tomorrow morning, I’m going to eat your youngest child first, then twelve hours after that, I will eat your first born then Carla. Think about that, Jim. Looking forward to your call.”
Jim reached for his cellular phone. “Frank, it’s Jim. It’s time to reclaim the south side. I’ll be on the first flight to Chicago.”
“What about—“
“Frank, don’t talk, just meet me at Flanigan’s –and bring a few things.”
Chapter 17
“James, I’m going to be in Chicago for a few days. Take the Wildcat express to your coach’s house. Tell him you need to stay there for a few days. If he has any questions, tell him to call me.”
Jim sent the text message from Sky Harbor International Airport. James called repeatedly, but he ignored the phone calls until he got tired of the phone vibrating. He answered the phone.
“Jim, I gotta come out there with you.”
“James, I’ll take care of it. Just take care of things here in Arizona. I’ll be back in no time.”
“Look, I saw the DVD. It’s my fault that this happened. I shouldn’t have been so stupid. Jim, you gotta let me fix it.”
“James, I love you as if you were my own son. I’m telling you this for your own good. You got a bright career ahead of you as a NFL football player if you would just get your head on straight and practice. You don’t need to get involved. Please, stay out of it and let me handle this my way.”
James’ voice cracked as he began to cry. “Jim, if anything happens to them or you--“
“Don’t do that to yourself. I’m getting them out alive even if I have to die in the process.”
“Jim, give me ten minutes,” he shouted.
“James, if this is our last phone conversation I just want you to know that I’m proud of you and that I love you. Look after my wife and children. I have some petty cash in my closet until Carla can settle everything with my insurance policies and everything.”
“Jim!”
He hung up the phone and booked the first flight departing to Midway Airport. The flight gave Jim a chance to think the situation through en route to his arrival. He thought some more once he landed in Chicago and took a cab to Flanigan’s. In the rearview mirror, another cab followed closely. He zeroed in on it, but didn’t see anyone riding in the backseat. Jim reached for his firearm, but it was in Arizona. This was one disadvantage in flying to Chicago—he was unarmed. He called Frank to confirm that he could make it to Flanigan’s within 20 minutes. A half hour later, Jim arrived with the cab still following him.
“Pull over in front of Flanigan’s.”
The cab driver did as instructed, but the other cab drove past them and turned at the end of the block; this unnerved Jim.
“Okay sir, the fare due is on the meter,” the cab driver said.
“Wait five minutes.”
“Sir, I got other customer.”
“I said wait five got damn minutes,” Jim shouted. “Keep the meter running.”
Jim handed the cab driver two $100 dollar bills. “Put that in your pocket. In five minutes, I’ll pay the fare due, but don’t ask any questions and don’t speak to anyone asking about me.”
He looked down the street where the trailing cab turned, but no one emerged. Jim waited the five minutes out, paid his fare and slid out of the back door and into Flanigan’s. Behind him was a large glass window overlooking the street. He turned around and looked through it, but no one was approaching. He walked through the sports bar looking for Frank and glancing back at the window. He finally spotted him sitting at a corner booth in the back of the restaurant looking at a baseball game with a party platter of 50 wings, a bowl of mashed potatoes and a 2 liter Pepsi sitting in front of him. Sadly, he already ate fifteen of those wings. Jim approached his table.
“Who’s leading?”
“Ah, the fucking White Sox are getting murdered by Kansas City.”
“Again.”
“You’d think those fucks would beat the pants off the Royals like the rest of the American League. I mean they’re in fucking la
st place every year.”
“Who you got action on?”
“The Royals.”
“Then why are you upset?”
Frank grabbed two wings, one in each hand, and ate them at the same time, alternating hands in-between bites. “Because I’m a die-hard Sox fan. I’d like to see the Sox kick their ass for a season series at least once in my lifetime.”
Jim reached for one of Frank’s wings and ate. “Did anyone come through the door behind me?”
“No one since you came in.”
“There was a cab that was following mine. When I pulled over in front of the restaurant, the other cab turned down the end of the block. He probably got out where I couldn’t see him.”
“Jim, you’re paranoid.”
“No, my wife and children got kidnapped out of our home so forgive me if I’m a little paranoid,” he shouted.
“Oh my God, Jim. What do you need for me to do?”
“Did you bring those things I requested?”
“In the seat next to you.”
Jim looked toward his left and saw what he was looking for. Two glocks in twin holsters. He slid off his sport coat and into the twin holsters, then he put his sport coat on under it and polished off seven more wings and poured some Pepsi into his glass..
“Jim, had I known you were this hungry, I would have ordered 50 more wings.”
“I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Do you know who did it?”
“Steve.”
“That fuck.”
“He’s going to be a dead fuck when I get to him.”
“That’s a bold move to kidnap your wife and children.”
“He also demanded ransom.”
“How much?”
“Six months’ take on the games.”
“He’s gotta be out of his mind.”
“No, he was out of his mind for fucking with my family, but this ain’t some random shit. How much does he know about the games in the burbs?”
“Nothing.”
“How does he know that I’m still alive?”
“You don’t give the fucker enough credit for having some intelligence.”
“Why don’t you put his cock in your mouth and stroke his shaft while you’re at it?”
“What are you suggesting?” Frank shouted.
