For What Is In A Game?
By: Camille
I had never been this nervous before a game- my fingers trembled as I loaded up my
gear into the car. 'It's just a game', said my brain, 'Just a game.'
I peered into the car at my gear again. It was all there, I knew that, but there was no
reason I shouldn't check again. I looked into my black suitcase. I had gloves, a
stethoscope, and my nifty collection of every sort of lock pick that had ever been created,
along with a few other nice little "necessities". Looking over my shoulder I locked the
trunk of my beautiful mustang convertible, and changed its license plate to a New York
one. If you're going to become a burglar here's rule #2, don't stand out, # 3 is not to
burgle in your own area. My personal favorite in the burglar's handbook is # 1 though,
DON'T GET CAUGHT.
#1 is what I live by, most burglars say that they do, but I am the true goddess of #1. In 4
years of this, well, profession, I've gotten caught once, by a 3 year old. All I had to do
was give the little dude a cup of warm milk and go tell him to go back to bed, it was that
easy. I wonder if he could even tell that I wasn't some part of that house's staff or
anything.
I got into my car, and pulled up the hood, a possible witness (one of those everyday
people that you pass on the street) is most likely to notice a messy, disheveled business
woman walking by, rather than a boring ordinary business woman. I pulled out of my
driveway, and pulled onto the turnpike. I drove towards the rich suburbs of NYC, and
parked my car at one of those all day mini mart places toward the back of the lot. I
pulled out my gear, and began a brisk walk toward the house that I was targeting today.
My palms began to sweat like crazy, and my heart beat so loud that the guy behind me
must have been able to hear it. I walked a bit more briskly as the huge house cam into
view. I eased my way up the long path to the front door, and took out my lock picks,
which I have on a key chain. I leaned down, and put my briefcase onto the ground. The
picks slipped out of my hand, and I bent over to get them. 'Something's wrong Julie' my
brain said. 'Shut up!' I told it, 'you'll get us caught!' I picked up my "keys" put on my
gloves,
ugg bailey button, and opened the door.
The house was silent, and I reached into my bag for my little gadget that takes care of the
so called "house protection units". I walked up to the little box, and saw that it was
already deactivated.
"Man!" I whispered to myself, "These guys must be rally rich!" They probably had a
house in Vancouver, Maui, and a Penthouse in Boston I realized. It still didn't make that
much sense; most people believe that the more money you have, the harder you work to
keep it safe. I shrugged off the thought; maybe they had so much money that they didn't
really care what happened. Rich people are weird, what can I say?
I walked into the first room, possibly a living room, and saw that the place had been
completely trashed. I gasped, and looked around; the house must have been hit already.
I don't know any other burglars other than myself, but this guy was either a real amateur,
or some sort of genius at escape. I ran up the stair case into the bedroom, it was ruined
too. Whoever had been there before had even ripped the drapes! I looked into the
dresser, and saw that a few pieces of jewelry had been left in there, a class ring, a
diamond engagement ring, and about 20 more pieces of cheap silver jewelry. I carefully
took them out of the box they were in, and put them into my black bag.
It was dark; I was running, so fast that I dropped my wallet. In my briefcase was the
jewelry, no, no, not jewelry, it was the cash.
I shook my head to get rid of that image. I was just stupid that first burglary. I picked up
the suitcase, and walked calmly out of the house, activating the protection system, and
locking the door behind me, there was no need, but why leave any loose ends? Back at
the mini mart, I found that my car had a boot on it. I looked at it, and realized that there
was nothing that I could do about it. If I unlocked the boot, they might put 2 and 2
together, and for the police 2+2 could equal Julie McShway. I sat down next to my car
and leaned my head against it. It was almost 6:00 at night, and I was quickly losing a
game whose rules I dictate.
A half hour later, a man tapped me on my shoulder, waking me up.
"Hey," he said, kneeling down, "Need a ride?" I almost cried right there in front of him,
and I never cry.
"YES!" I gasped, grabbing the hand he offered me. For a moment we looked at each
other. He was wearing gloves, just like I was. He shook himself, and picked up my
suitcase to take to the car,
Casquettes Red Bull, instinctively I grabbed for it. I couldn't pay for a bus fare with
the jewelry in there, but it had caused me a lot of trouble, and I wasn't letting it get away.
The man smirked and let me have my bag back.
"So, what's your name?" he asked, "I'm Paul."
"It's Julie, Julie McShway", I told him, and it was my turn to smirk. "Interesting, a
burglar named after an apostle." Paul didn't even twitch; he just smiled broadly when I
referred to his line of work.
"Ouch, it bites!" He remarked, "You're going to Jersey, right?" I nodded, and weary of
small talk, got into the car, closed my eyes and went to sleep. When I awoke, Paul was at
my house. He opened the door for me, and helped me out, staying carefully out of the
way of the black leather suitcase. As we walked up to the front door, I saw him glance at
me, and I realized what a beautiful shade of blue his eyes were, contrasting with his dark,
almost black hair. I stopped at the door, and fumbled around for my keys, and then
realizing that I had left them inside, I opened the suitcase, and took out my lock picks.
Paul looked into the bag.
"Fate," he said softly to me, when he saw the jewelry, "it must have been fate that caused
us to hit the same house." I felt a tingling sensation go up my spine, as I unlocked my
door. I was stepping inside when a soft voice came from behind me�� "Don't I get a
goodnight kiss?" I whirled around, my face turning a bright red, and opened my mouth
to say something, yet, no words came out. Paul tilted my face up, and kissed me softly,
"Goodnight Julie." He said, walked to his car, and drove away, leaving me with my jaw
hanging open on the porch.
The phone rang, and I jumped up to get it. I knew that it was stupid, but for the last three
days I had been jumping for the phone to see if it was Paul. 'Julie you idiot!' my brain
kept yelling at me, 'you didn't even tell him your number, and he definitely doesn't now
your work number'. 'I know, I know, I would argue back, but maybe he looked up my
name in the phone book!', my brain would sigh something or other about how unlikely
that was, and retire to the back of my head, leaving me all alone and senseless,
daydreaming. I picked up the phone, and was surprised (not to mention smug, this was
one of the few times that I was right and my brain was wrong), to hear Paul on the other
end. I winked to one of my co-workers/friends, Tanya, and returned Paul's greeting.
"So, Julie, are you busy tonight?" Paul asked. 'YES' said my brain, 'you are very, very
busy'
"No, not busy at all." I said, figuring that my brain was just being whiny because it had
lost for once.
"Good," said Paul, "Cuz, well, I was wondering if you might want to go to dinner? And
then, maybe get a house or 2?" my brain flashed red, and then retreated to the back of my
head as the adrenaline of being asked out kicked in.
"Well," I said, deciding that my brain might have had something there, "I never mix
business with pleasure. So, what'll it be?" Paul seemed to hesitate for a moment, and
then came up with an answer.
"Oh, pleasure most definitely! How's 6:00?" I looked at my schedule.
"Uh, how's 6:30, I gotta be here at work until 5:00" I replied.
"Sure, can you meet me at 'Le Fromage'?" I smiled as he named my favorite restaurant,
a semi-fancy French caf�� in the park.
"Of course!"
"Good, bye!"
"See ya"
I saw Tanya looking at me funny, and almost giddy I yelled "I've got a date!". Tanya
moved her chair closer, to mine to interrogate me.
"Who is it? When? Where?"
"His name's Paul�� Paul... something or other, and he asked me out for tonight." My co-
worker's eyes narrowed.
"That sounds like a pity date!" She exclaimed, but I went on
"He's taking me to 'Le Fromage'" Here Tanya smiled.
"Ok, he's a typical guy, ya know, with the timing and everything, but let's give the man
some points for style!"
I beamed, and she turned toward her computer.
"You'd better be getting back to work too!" she said solemnly, "You'll never get to be
partner here if you don't"
I turned towards my desk and grumbled to myself "I'm never going to be a partner in
THIS law firm." It was true too, I was by far the most qualified lawyer here, but, Mr.
Fridie had gotten the position of partner, and after he had left Tom Jones had gotten the
position. 'The Old Boys Club at it's finest' my brain said, and with this I agreed entirely,
Fridie had even been, "skimming" some of the money from the company.
I touched the money in the drawer; it wasn't his anyway, what was the difference? It's
not like he could turn me in. Still, my hand paused. 'It's a game', I told myself, 'a game',
he stole this money from the company, now I steal it from him, checkmate. Chess was
easy, in the end, it didn't matter, he would walk away from the game with his rich boy
ego a little hurt, but that was it. My hand grasped the money, and I turned to leave thru
the door that he had left unlocked. Then, he was there, he was looking at me. I ran, and
ran, and ran. My purse, something had dropped out of my purse!
Shaking at horror from the fear, and excitement of the memory, I began to type on my
computer, transferring half of what I had "earned" so to speak, from my latest escapade
from my e-cash account to an online charity, something to help foster kids. I figured that
the big CEO that I had ripped off; he'd stolen from enough figurative orphans and
widows. Half for me, half for them, life wasn't a game for people who didn't have that
nice cushion of money to pad their falls.
Paul was waiting for me when I reached 'Le Fromage'. His coat on one arm, he offered
the other to me, and escorted my "little black dress" dressed self onto the outdoor part of
the restaurant that overlooked the lake. Touched by his chivalry, I thanked him.
"Now where did you learn such nice manners young man?" I asked like my mother used
to ask people who showed exceptional gallantry.
"Boarding school in Switzerland of course!" Paul smiled at his joke. Suddenly his face
hardened, and my brain gave me another one of those red flashes.
"So, what was it like in this boarding school?" I asked, as a continuation of a good joke.
"Actually," Paul said stoically, "I seem to remember the teachers thinking I was quite the
rouge."
"And so you are, Mr. Cat-burglar" I joked, but Paul kept on going,
"It was always Paul this, Fridie that." I froze, and the hard look in Paul's face turned to
that of fierce joy. "I'm glad you recognize the names of people whose live you ruin." He
spoke softly to me, so as not to draw attention. "Under my coat I have a gun, so don't
make a move." A waiter came by and asked us what we'd like to order. I couldn't
answer, I couldn't move. Somehow, food came to the table, and somehow I ate it, and
somehow, Paul was able to pay the bill using only his left hand. He got up, but I couldn't
move, there was a gun, a gun, a gun. He pulled out my chair from the table, making it
evident that his coat was right behind me, so slowly, I rose, and walked out. We were
almost to my car, newly un-booted, when I began to stammer.
"My house, you�� you knew where-"Paul grinned, but the grin wasn't so attractive
anymore.
"Do you think I'd let the woman who killed my father go? I tracked you, I learned what
you do, what your habits are, I ransacked where you would strike, I booted your car, and
now you're in checkmate, game over, you lose. I was in the driver's seat now, and he
had the gun out in plain view, pointing towards me. "Go to The Point." He commanded,
cocking the weapon to show where he meant. I knew what he was talking about; The
Point was a secluded area of road, the perfect make out place. I drove in spurts, I wanted
to go speeding ahead, to call attention to myself, but the faster I went, the closer the gun
came to my head. 'Turn!' my brain yelled, stopping me from hitting a tree. 'Why?' I
asked myself, 'I'm going to die anyway'. My brain however made me keep going for
what seemed like hours, until it suddenly yelled for me to stop.
"Why? Why are you doing this to me?" I begged of Paul, "Your father had plenty of
money! Your father got my job!"
"My father" Paul snarled angrily, "was barely keeping his head out of the water! My
father, drowned himself in debt trying to take care of my sister and me! MY FATHER"
he was yelling now "MY FATHER KILLED HIMSELF AFTER YOU STOLE THE
MONEY HE NEEDED!" Paul began to sob, "And all I have left of him is his damn life
insurance."
"Please," I heard myself scream, "Please, what ever you want, I'll give it to you."
"I" I saw a light coming over the hill "WANT" It was coming "MY" closer, closer
"FATHER!" Paul howled,
UGG Classic Tall, and pulled the trigger, and a stab of pain wrenched through my
abdomen, and I seemed to watch myself get hit by bullet after bullet.
It was a lovely dream, I was lying in a white bed, and all around me, people tended to the
pain. 'Wait,' my brain said 'can you dream in heaven?', 'I'll never go to heaven' I said
softly back, and opened my eyes. A policeman and a bunch of my friends and family
were standing there.
"Thank you." I croaked to them, and went back to sleep.
I don't play chess. I will never again play chess, for when I play chess, I see the king
bleed. After my "accident" as it's referred to around the firm, I've changed. They say
"accident" because no one wants to piss off the partner in a high-powered firm. Most
think I am a crazed maniac, because I go and put flowers on the grave of the man that I
killed, and the man that would have killed me. Paul should have been the one to shoot
straight, not the policeman. I have money, power, prestige; only after the day when I
place a class ring, a diamond engagement ring, and a few cheap pieces of jewelry into the
hands of a very rich woman will days of blissful light be mine again, or maybe the day
when my car gets out of the shop. Checkmate.Topics related articles：
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