ARTWORK BY JASON LAU
POTTER’S FIELD Sarah O’Connor
I
n a perfect world, Mike and I would be heading to Miami right now. Instead, I’m cruising down to Potter’s Field with Trey. He’s got his sunglasses on and his head droops against his chest, as if asleep. But hey, mistakes happen. “Oh Trey,” I mumble as we stop at a red light. “What am I going to do with you?” Trey is silent, as he should be considering what happened. Jesus, it was just supposed to be Mike and I. Break into Shay’s after dark, take the money, and drive to Miami as fast as possible, where Shay would never find us. But Trey of course had to ruin everything. That snooping bastard, always listening in and following Mike around like a puppy, which always pissed him off; acting like it was a coincidence that he was in the same place we were every time we had a thing, romantic or otherwise. “Didn’t work out so well this time, huh buddy?” Trey’s drooling onto that filthy white t-shirt, the one he seems to always be wearing. The armpits are stained yellow and the front is smeared with food stains, dirt, and blood. It wasn’t hard for Trey to annoy me. He was always trying to make it seem like he was the smartest guy in the room, the one who brought in all the money, always talking down to me like I was the dumb one. Mike always told me to ignore him but how could I when Trey was always there? So yeah, we got into a ton of yelling matches, and the occasional fistfight which pissed Mike off more than anyone else. He gave him a few kicks in the head for what he’d done, but not enough to make Trey any less of an ass. A grey Honda flickers its lights as I approach. Mike. I turn off my lights and drive slowly into the forested area and park. “Come on big boy,” I huff as I drag Trey out of the car. His sunglasses fall off and clatter, his head lolls to the side. “You’re late,” Mike grumbles, his breath clouding in the frosty air.
“It’s not my fault, there were some cops driving behind me for a good ten minutes. Did you want them to follow me?” “Let’s go deeper into the forest,” Mike says as he takes Trey’s other arm. It looks like we’re all walking together, three friends in the moonlight. “And why’d we have to drive so far? He’s really stunk up the car.” “Can’t have him near us, sweetheart, unless you want our faces plastered around town.” “Well we aren’t going home anyways-” “It’s just a precaution.” He cuts me off and finally we stop, leaning Trey against a tree. We’re silent for a bit, Mike keeps looking up at the stars while I keep glancing at Trey as he slowly falls down to the dirt and the leaves that carpet the forest floor. “You sure no one followed you here?” Mike asks, looking me straight in the eyes. “No police, no stealth cars, no-” “I’m sure, I checked,” I assure him. “You sure no one heard you shoot him?” “Oh, I’m sure some people heard.” “But no one followed you, right?” Silence. “Right?” Mike sighs, “I’m sure.” Finally he looks at Trey, “Poor bastard. He wasn’t such a bad guy.” I snort, “Speak for yourself.” Mike quirks a smile, the first I’ve seen all night. “He was just stupid, going to Shay’s before we got there. At least you didn’t get hurt.” I smile. “But he’s pulled this shit too many times before. He just made us vulnerable.” I lean against his shoulder. “You did the right thing.” He gives a sad smile and turns back to Trey. “Let’s start digging; we’ve got to be quiet and fast.” He begins to dig. “What? You want me dig in the dirt like a dog?” “Sorry princess, here’s a shovel.” Like I said, mistakes happen.
Sorry princess, here’s a shovel.
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INCITE MAGAZINE, NOVEMBER 2015