Short Story: Part Three

Now the thrilling conclusion of my three-part series. The first chapter involved two young kids who sought a different future where they could be free and live as they wished. The second chapter was a short script that shared their exploits in robbing a convenient store.

The third chapter involves what happens to these two young lovers after the heist.
Play this song:

It is best to listen while reading, or just before if you prefer silence to concentrate.

The next chapter is called:

GETAWAY
Chapter Three: Consequences

The cold steel doors of the prison cell came to a close. Sheriff Johnson of the county Sheriff’s Department locked the door, and then put the keys back on his belt. With a crude smile on his busted lip he looked to Becky. Becky had a deer-in-headlights look and was on the verge of crying.

Trying to be firm, Sheriff Johnson spouted out what he thought to be comforting words, “We called yer pa. Should be here in a bit.” And with that he left to do whatever business that Sheriffs do.

This made Becky feel worse. Tears already formed.

Through the bars, she looked into the cell which held the unconscious James - splayed out on a bench. In a whisper, Becky attempted to rouse James from his bludgeon-induced coma - “James.”

James groaned and then shifted on the bench.

“James!” she insisted.

Only a few words could be muttered from the groggy young man.

“What?” she said in a panic. “James, are you okay?”

James slowly sat up. He held his head with his hands. His face looked worse for wear, several cuts and bruises lined his eyes and mouth. A particularly large lump rested on the left side of his forehead. He touched it with caution, reacting to the pain.

More groaning - then, “What happened?”

“You got knocked out by the sheriff’s department,” Becky said bluntly. “They got you pretty good. You were knocked out.”

“Well duh.” he replied to himself.

James got up slowly and headed to the door. He put his arms around the bars to prop himself up.

“Did they call our parents?” he asked not really wanting an answer.

“They definitely called my dad.” her words settled in the air for a bit. “I don’t know about your mom.”

“Great. Fantastic.” he said, not welcoming the news.

Approaching his cell, Becky resorted to her false courage routine, “James, we have to figure out what happened and get our stories straight.”

“Why bother, they know it was us.” he replied curtly.

Offended she returns the pessimism, “I’m not going to burn for this. It was your plan, you held up the store. Your problem.” she hesitated, but then added a particularly stinging comment; “Nothing you’ve ever done has ever worked. I don’t know why I went along with you.”

She knew this was too much, she backed off. James just stood there speechless.

They stayed in their respective cells not communicating for over an hour.

Soon enough, Sheriff Johnson approached the cells with unwelcome news; “Miss Van Neel? Your father is here.”

Becky ran up to the doors as quickly as James ran back to the benches. The Sheriff unlocked her door and opened it.

In walked Becky’s father – Mr. Van Neel. Mister corn processing plant owner and millionaire. He stood tall in his cocky manner, dressed in his night clothes and trenchcoat. He did not look pleased with his daughter, but more than that, he did not look excited to see who she was with.

Becky ran to him and hugged him tight, “I’m sorry daddy. It was all a big mistake. I’ll never do it again.”

Mr. Van Neel looked her in the eye, “Did he force you into this?”

James rolled his eyes.

Becky looked back at her ex-love. “I had nothing to do with it daddy. He didn’t force me into anything.”

This didn’t convince him, so Mr. Van Neel approached the cell and stared down at the young man.

“I think we can safely say you will never talk to my daughter again,” he said coldly. “If you so much as approach her…wave hello to her, I will make sure you go away for a very long time.”

James didn’t flinch. He didn’t move. He sat there and stared right back at the pompous man.

“So then it is agreed.” Mr. Van Neel turned back to his daughter and escorted her out of the room. “Sheriff, I think the young man needs to think about his decisions,” he said vaguely. “Keep him as long as you need him.” The Sheriff nodded and smirked at the permission.

Becky looked back at James with pathetic eyes. She had either made the smartest, or the dumbest decision of her life.

James looked back at her. Those great big blue eyes piercing her soul.

Outside of the station, Mr. Van Neel escorted his daughter into the lovely Mercedes parked out front. He opened the passenger door and made sure she was seated safely in the car. He then turned to the Sheriff and began to discuss the releasing of his daughter from the incident.

Becky sat in the large luxurious car. Leather seats with silver inlay. Her attention was distracted by a pair of shiny keys that her father had left in the ignition. They swung back and forth, tantalizing her imagination.

Inside the jail, James bundled up from the cold. He had lost everything in a matter of a few hours. His heart was so heavy that he couldn’t cry. He could only sit there and wonder what had happened.

In Mr. Van Neel’s car, Becky was starting to realize how big of a mistake she had made. Did she really love him? How could she tell? She looked up to her father and the Sheriff who were busily arguing about something important. She looked back at the keys.

At this moment, it suddenly became clear who she really was. She had been fighting so hard to do what was pleasing to other people. She had gone along with James in this crazy fantasy of a plan; she had complied with her father unquestioningly. She had wanted to please others so much that she had forgotten what had made her happy.

Slowly, she slunk from the passenger seat to the driver’s seat. She started the car. Mr. Van Neel and the Sheriff instantly stopped arguing and stared at the young woman behind the wheel. She locked the doors.

With a flick of the wrist, she had put the car in reverse. The car peeled out and lunged backward into the parking lot. Mr. Van Neel ran after the disobedient child, “Young lady come back this instant!” but it was too late. She had put the car in drive and revved the engine. Mr. Van Neel approached the car and tried the door. He smacked the window, “you stop this car right now!”

Becky looked up at her old man. She was no longer his young baby girl. She was a free-thinking, beautiful, rebellious teenager and she was going to do what she wanted.

She let go of the brake and slammed down on the gas. The car fishtailed out into the open road. The Sheriff stood there in wonderment while Mr. Van Neel cursed under his breath. He turned to the Sheriff and instantly became upset, “Well go after her!” The Sheriff jumped into action and they both hopped into the squad car. They sped off towards the young runaway.

In his cell, James was lying down trying to get some sleep. This had been the worst day of his life and it’s not that easy to fall asleep after such a one.

As his mind drifted off to vacant places his eyes began to droop. He had just touched upon a restful state, when a faint honking started to grow.

Lights started to flash into the cell, bouncing off the walls. The honking grew louder. James opened his eyes and looked around in confusion. He climbed up to the window.

In the distance, a large stolen Mercedes Benz started to barrel down a field towards the prison.

“Oh shi…” he couldn’t finish the expletive before having to jump out of the way of the speeding car. He grabbed onto the prison bars and braced for impact.

The heavy vehicle plowed into the walls of the Sheriff’s Station, spitting brick and mortar into every direction. James screamed like a little girl as the debris rained upon him.

The vehicle came to a stop and the dust settled in the small cell. The tinted window of the car hummed as it was lowered. Becky sat in the driver’s seat - smiling large.

“Are you freakin’ crazy?!” James said in shock and relief.

“Need a ride?” she answered coolly, “I’ve got a full tank of gas.”

Without a second thought, James jumped down from the bars and slid on top of the hood to the passenger side. He hopped into the seat.

A group of people from the station came to investigate the loud sound; a few Deputies realized what was going on and scrambled to get out their guns and keys.

Becky slammed the car into reverse and hit the gas once more. The car didn’t go anywhere, it was stuck on debris. She revved the engine, the tires spun in place. James used his weight to rock the car back and forth, trying to break free. One of the Deputies had found his key and had opened the cell door when…

The tire connected with the ground projecting the car out of the jail and into the field. Becky adjusted the wheel to correct and then threw the stick into drive. They zoomed out of the grass and onto the road. They left the Sheriff Station in the dust.

On the road once more, the two rogues sat and smiled. They didn’t say a word until…

James turned to Becky and gave her the biggest kiss of her life. Becky smiled and tried to concentrate on the road.

James squeaked out a pathetic “Thank you.”

“Do me a favor,” Becky said firmly. “Don’t do anything stupid like that ever again.”

James sat back and laughed, “Okay Becky Van Neel, never again.”

“Unless it involves a wedding ring.” she retorted.

He nervously chuckled in response. She noticed his squirming.

“Not now!” she said to his relief.

They sat in silence once more as she approached the interstate.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

“Now?” he calmly stated. “Now we live.”

They sat back and focused on the road ahead. The car sped down the interstate into the rising sun.

THE END

There are several things I learned while doing this little exercise:

- It is extremely hard to switch between different forms of storytelling. Script/short story, first person/third person, stream of consciousness/narration. It is all very confusing and difficult to switch between writing styles.

- Characters do what they want to do and say what they want to say. Sometimes I will write a line that I think is perfect, but when re-writing I will discover that the character doesn't want to say that or wouldn't say that. It is very interesting to see what personalities come out of the characters we create and to see what they want to say.

- I love to write. I kind of knew this before, but it was solidified in my trying to write something new. It made me appreciate the screenplay form for its familiarity, but also the short story or novel form as well because it is much harder than it seems.

Thank you all for being willing to read and I hope you enjoyed this little story. Please feel free to leave comments on how you felt about the story or what you think should happen next.

Until next time, keep those ideas moving!