“Don’t call the cops! I’ll do anything just please don’t call the cops!”
Byron Jones was in a horrifying situation that no teenage boy would ever want to be put in. He had been caught shoplifting from a local grocery store, and the owner was about to call the cops.
Mike, the store owner, paused and pondered Byron’s offer. “Anything?” asked Mike as an idea came into his head. There was one thing he had to do, but didn’t have the guts to do it. So he told Byron his idea.
When he got done giving Byron his choices, he looked like he just saw a ghost. “Are you sure theres not anything else I can do?” But he already knew the answer. “Just tell me what I have to do.”
Mike smiled as he handed Byron a small, but heavy package wrapped in brown paper. There was a piece of paper taped on top with a name and address written on it. “All you need is in here, and you need to do it by midnight tonight, otherwise deal is off.” Mike warned.
Byron blinked and he was gone. Where he went, Byron would never know. The only thing he really knew at that point was he needed to hurry. He only had two hours until midnight, and who knew how long it would take to reach the address, and find the name on the piece of paper.
His hands were damp with sweat as he stepped out into the cool fall night, ready to complete his task before midnight. He walked one, two, three blocks before he found his destination. It was a tall building that seemed to lurk in the shadows, hiding.
Byron walked through the tall glass doors into the main lobby, and headed toward the restaurant on the far left. He checked his watch, and found he only had an hour and a half to complete his task. As soon as he walked in, he felt off. Everyone here was dressed up while he wore distressed blue jeans, and a grey t-shirt. Women wore fancy designer dresses, that no doubt cost more than what he earned in a year, and men wore nice suits with silk ties and shiny italian shoes.
He walked through the restaurant looking for the mysterious man. His hands were still drenched with sweat. He wasn’t worried about finding the man, Mike had given a description of him. He was worried about someone finding out about his task.
Tall men, short men, fat men, thin men. But none of them were the guy he was looking for. Byron was starting to get nervous. It was eleven o’clock, only an hour left. He went to sit down at the bar and got a drink. A guy sat down next to him, and ordered a drink.
“This guy might know the guy I’m looking for.” Thought Byron. “I should talk to him.” As soon as the guy turned around, Byron was frozen. It was the guy Mike told him about! His plan was set into action.
It took a while but Byron soon got talking to the guy, pretending to be an interested client wanting to do some business. Eventually the guy asked if he wanted to go up to his office and do some paperwork. “This is my chance! I can’t chicken out now.” Byron thought, as they wound through all of the people out of the restaurant and took the elevator up to the eleventh floor.
When they got off the elevator, they walked to the end of a dimly lit hallway to an office on the left. “Take a seat, and I’ll find the papers.” Said the man, as he searched through a messy stack of papers in his filing cabinet.
“Now! While he’s got his back turned! One, two, three...”