The Deal

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


 

Everywhere I look. 

Their feet nonstop. 

They blur past me like haunting ghosts. Judging me with side glances. I clench my jacket closed, looking around desperately. Their trains are waiting for them. Family is waiting for them. So why are they looking at me? What do they know? No. Focus. Look down. Don't let them see you. 

Why on Earth did he pick this location? 

"Madam?"

A male voice clears through the crowd. I keep moving. Ignore him. 

"Madam!"

His feet. Heavy, fast. He won't go away. Keep moving. Look left, right. No clearing. MOVE!

"Madam!" He projects. Everyone sees. They hush. 

"Madam, you dropped this." He holds up a white envelope. 

He promptly places the envelope in the palm of my hand. I flip it over. He didn't look. It isn't open. Thank the lord!

"Are you in a hurry?" The gentleman gives me a genuine smile. He places his suitcase on the ground to rest his wrist.

"What's in the suitcase?" I ask. 

"Work"

"Are you my son?"

His eyebrows drop in confusion. He shakes his head. 

"No. I can help you look for him."

He shows me his badge. 

"I'm a police officer. I can help."

No!

A chime of the clock sturs a panic in the building. Everyone has their tickets gripped in their hands. The policeman doesn't move. An annoying sense of duty. I turn away.

"My train is here."

His shoes squeak behind me. I don't dare to look back. Why is he following me? Our conversation ended! No! Not unless. I shove the envelope in my jacket and run. He knows. He looked. I have to get out of here!

I brush past the crowd. He follows. Too stubborn. I can't panic. Breath. Run. There's a door. Another one. Flight of stairs. Up, left. A door. Open!

Safe.

There are no more footsteps.

An empty room. Only a tick of a clock. 

I sit down against the dusty bench. The walls are grey. Drills of nails left abandoned in them. I grab the envelope and caress it. It's safe.

We had a deal. Where is my son?

After three strikes of the clock the door peaks open. A young man, faceless, covered by a brown leather hat sits beside me. He does nothing. Doesn't speak. Doesn't look. It could only mean one thing. 

"Are you my son?"

"Yes."

"I thought you wouldn't show up." I sigh.

He hands me his briefcase. I look side to side. Nobody's here. Good. I open it up slowly. It's all in there. I panicked over nothing.

"And for me?" He asks. 

I hand him the envelope. 

"China White. Purest form. No injection needed. It's all in there."

He opens it up and inspects it. He isn't disappointed. 

"Did anyone give you trouble?"

I thought about the police officer, but I was the one who overreacted. I shake my head. 

"No," I smiled. "That's why they send me. Nobody suspects an old lady."

 

 

 


Submitted: May 05, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Tsivaya Diliiza. All rights reserved.

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