WOOT!

Nov 05, 2009 18:28


Here it is! I'm so happy I got this bit finished. 8,337 words!


When I was six, my brother killed a man on top of Bridge Kanulu. But that’s not the end of the story. The story continues. It picked up again when I was nine.

* * *

“Hey, James, give us a hand here?” Joan calls from the door.

“Three seconds,” I call back, not shifting my focus from the computer. I hit F5, wait for the save screen to go, then ESC, then rush to the door. Joan has a bag of groceries, and can’t close the door. I push it closed, then take the bag and head to the kitchen. Joan follows in his wheelchair. It’s a permanent fixture now, except for one hour a day, when he does special, doctor-prescribed activities.

“Want a beer?”

“Yeah, cheers, James.” I pull one out of the box he’s brought, and then put two in the fridge, and the rest on the shelf. One for Dad, one for Joan. I’m not allowed any. I start putting the rest of the groceries away. Joan obviously has something to say, but can’t find the right words. He gives up, raises the bottle one more time in thanks, and wheels away to the lounge, where I hear him turn on the TV. I finish putting the groceries away and go back to my computer game.

Joan gave me this computer, for my last birthday. It’s a good one, really, really fast. And it’s got about a hundred gigabytes of memory. Dad gave me some speakers for it, and some games. I’m playing one now. It’s called Indiana Jones and the Infernal Machine. I just got to a bit where I have to decide whether I try to kill all the guards, or go through a creepy underground tunnel. All I’ve got is a point-four-five and my fists. There’s three guards on the pathway, and two more down at the campsite. And maybe a spider, or a scorpion, or two. Or more. I pull out the gun and draw a bead on the back of the first guard’s head.

BANG! He falls, and I somersault backwards of my ledge, then sideways to hide before the other two shoot me.

BANG! The door flies open. I stab the ESC key and turn to look. Joan’s there. He looks almost as startled by the noise as I feel. He wheels around and gently closes the door again, then comes to see what I’m doing. I swivel back to the monitor and hit ESC again. Indy swivels to face the coming threat, gun cocked.

“I just shot the first of five guards. Now I’m expecting at least one to come around this corner.”

“That’d be the bang. Where’s the body?”

“Around the corner.” A guard comes around the corner and levels his gun at me. I shoot him three times.

“There, two down.” We wait a little while for the third guard to come, but he doesn’t. I check around the corner. There are two guards at the other end of the path. Looking away. I grab the guards’ guns, and shoot them both, then duck into the creepy cave, to await the last guard’s attack. Joan’s arm snakes out and taps the ESC key.

“You doing anything tonight?” He’s staring at the rotating weapons icon.

“Nope. Why?”

“Want to?”

“I might… What is it?” This is weird. Joan normally just says what he thinks.

“It might not just be tonight. It might be a couple days. We’re gonna go away for a bit.”

“That doesn’t make any difference, not really. What is it?”

“I’ve… got a job to do. I can’t do it by myself.” He sounds ashamed. “I said I’d ask you.”

It’s starting to make sense now. “What’s the job?”

“Weed.”

I knew it. That’s what he’s been doing for the gang since he lost his arm. But he’s never liked dragging me into gang business. Especially not something where I could get hurt. But I like proving to him that I’ve got what it takes. I mean, I’m bigger than even he was at his age. “I’m game. What’re we doing?”

“We’re flying off. Forget a few days, we’ll be gone a week, minimum. Buy up weed in Canada. It’s cheap there. Get a few ounces. Maybe five. Come back, deal it to people here. The price is almost ten times as much. Cover our tickets easy.”

This was big. But I was in now. “You got tickets? When do we go?”

“It’s tonight. I got tickets. Don’t pack much, but take a big suitcase. I’ll tell Dad.”

He wheels out my door and a couple seconds later I hear his wheelchair elevator lowering him to the ground floor.

I stare at the paused game, and turn it off. Dad’s not going to like this. He went through the roof after Joan killed José. Joan had to clear off for a long time before he calmed down. I think the gang took care of him. They do that a lot. But he came back after about a month, and he had this new job. They were already training up a new enforcer. He’s not as big as Joan, but he’s still big.

So now I’m going to help Joan out on the biggest weed job of all time. I’d forgotten to ask how we’d avoid the drug dogs at the airport, but Joan would have a plan. He always did.

I looked out the window, to the place I’d last been along with Joan on a “job”.

The door opens and closes down below. The fridge opens and closes. Joan’s wheelchair buzzes. I pull out my suitcase.

As Dad’s roar erupts in the kitchen, and beer bottles probably smash, I calmly pack, and think about Bridge Kanulu.

* * *

That night, we’re standing in the airport, surrounded by members of Joan’s gang. I’ve never seen half of them up close before. They look normal. I hadn’t expected that. Joan is off to one side, talking quietly to about three of them. I’m sitting on my suitcase, watching them. It doesn’t look like an argument. Finally, one of them hands him a fat envelope, and he comes back to me.

“Our flight’s not long off. We’ve got everything we need. Let’s go to the gate.” I stand up. The gang member who Joan was talking to jerks his head at the exit and everyone starts walking that way. We go the other way.

“Was that the leader, Joan?”

“Yeah. His name’s Job, from the bible. He’s an awesome guy. Helped me a lot when Mum died. His mum died too, so he knew how I felt. He just gave me all the money we’re going to need over there.” He taps the envelope, then slides it into an inside pocket of his jacket.

“How much?”

“A hundred thousand dollars.” I freeze a moment.

“Really? Wow… How much are you going to make?”

“Almost three million dollars, we think. I take ten percent. You’ll get half of that. That’s a hundred and fifty thousand dollars each.” I stop. He goes on a few steps, and then turns around.

“A hundred and fifty… thousand?” When I’d found a ten-dollar note on the pavement I’d been ecstatic.

“A hundred and fifty thousand, little bro. I’ll help you invest it properly. You don’t wanna do anything stupid with it.” He starts walking again. I follow him, my mind blown.

nanowrimo, bridge kanulu

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