An American Crime Saga: Part Five
Okay, lets jump right into chapter 2! So read, enjoy, and review!
Chapter Two:
"Ding-Dong!" the doorbell shook through the nice city home. Jimmy stood at the top of the steps leading to the wooden, white-painted door that Jimmy had known so well in his past. Looking back, he recalled how many events had happened since he last pulled that once shiny knob, now boring and covered in dust.
"Is this the place, Jim?" Wild looked up with a doubtful look graced upon his face.
"I think I still know my own house apart from most, Wild, but thanks for your concern." Jimmy chuckled.
"Look, Jimmy. What if it ain't even sold yet? I mean, what if there isn't anyone in there to answer the door?" Ace added.
"Do you see a 'for sale' sign stabbed in the front lawn?"
"Listen, the man knows what he's doing. Just listen to what he says and we won't be standing here in the daylight dressed as prison guards with the words, CALIFORNIA STATE PRISON, printed ever so brightly on the back of our stolen outfits." Kenny silenced the ex-cons.
"Carlos, go look in that window, see if anyone's home." Jimmy told the bald Latino man standing at the back of the pack.
"Which window? There are a lot of windows on this house, Jimmy!" Carlos asked.
"What window... just choose a window for god's sake!" Jimmy said, almost comically. "Gees... I must be traveling with a bunch of convicts!"
Carlos jogged over to one of the many, many, glass windows around the house. He peeked in, expecting to see an empty, not-yet-sold outer city house. What he did see was a rather small man with glasses that would make you thing you just saw Woody Allen.
"Yeah, there's a small dude with big-ass glasses comin' to the door!" Carlos yelled.
There was the sound of several security locks being unlocked, and then the door burst open, nearly hitting Jimmy head on.
"Um.. is there a problem officer?" the timid man asked, shaking with nervousness.
"I understand that this house once belonged to a James Nuetron and his wife, correct?" Jimmy began, deepening his voice to that of your stereotypical police officer. Wild started holding back a soft chuckle.
"Yes, uh.. um.. Jimmy used to live here I think."
"How recently did you move in here?"
"Just two weeks ago.. barely even unpacked or anything."
"You wouldn't happen to still have his clothes, would you?"
"H.. His clothes?"
"Did I stutter"
"Oh, no.. no sir! Uh.. I think we might have some left over shirts and pants, officer!"
"May I ask where?"
"Uh, I think they're still in the closet upstairs. Do you want me to go and get them?"
"No, no, that's fine. Mind if we go see?"
"No, be my guest, officers!" The man stepped aside.
"You got a name, sir?" Wild couldn't help himself, as he followed up Jimmy's 'performance' with one of his own.
"Edward."
"Edward what?"
"Banks, Edward Banks."
"Hmm... is there a Mrs. Banks?"
"N..no officer. Just me."
"Well, it seems strange for a single, middle aged man like yourself to be living in such a big house alone."
"You know what it's like to get a quality home in the city! I'm lucky I even got one! I was thinking of just renting the rooms to other..."
"Yeah, that's all fine and dandy then. We'll be upstairs."
The men began their way up to the room the man had directed them to, and the man began speaking once more.
"Came all the way down from California State Prison just to get some old clothes?" The man laughed.
"California State Prison?" Wild snorted, before Ray nudged him in the arm, "Oh, you mean on the back of our uniforms!"
"Yeah, Jimmy escaped the place, so we came down here to get some old clothes. You know, the dogs can pick up his scent and all that from his clothes." Kenny quickly came up with an answer for the curious man.
"Oh, well if you need anything, I'll be here." The man went and sat down on his couch to wait.
Jimmy showed them his old closet, and they picked out some clothes. Ace, unfortunately, was too large to fit into much. He got stuck wearing some old, raggedy T-shirt that had been too big on Jimmy, but was still to small on Ace. They quickly changed into their new clothes and walked back down the stairs.
"You need to wear the clothes?" The man arose, holding in a laugh or two. The six "prison guards" did look very ridiculous in the clothes, except for Jimmy, of course.
"Sir, don't ask questions." Wild said firmly, and the man instantly dropped his smile and sat back down. Without saying "goodbye" or "thanks for your cooperation", they marched back to the car and drove off.
"So where does this Raul guy live, Ray?" Jimmy asked as he drove.
"Right around North Plaza." He replied. Jimmy suddenly made a sharp turn, and headed to that destination.
Dete... Chief West's car pulled into one of very few parking spaces outside one of the worst smelling places in California: Retroville City Trash Dump.
"Whoo..wee! That does not smell too good!" West laughed, waving the air surrounding him away from his nose.
West jingled his key as he walked around to the trunk of his small car. Whistling, he snapped it open and hoisted his recently deceased boss over his shoulder as if everybody in Retroville carried the corpses of important law enforcers into the city dump as a daily routine.
"Excuse me sir, but what are you doing?" a man guarding the way into the mountains upon mountains of god-knows-what. He was a large man, and obviously had some eating problems. He as a dark peach color and had a large blonde mustache distracting from his perfectly bald head.
"Oh, just carrying my boss' body into the dump."
"His dead body?"
"What do you think, fatty?"
The guard looked around nervously, in fear.
"What? They don't arm the trash guards? Well I, as Chief of Police, am armed. In fact, I am armed with three guns, one of which is a shotgun. So, tubby, are you gonna let me in?"
The guard stood silent, either in fear or disbelief, or both, before stepping aside and collapsing on the ground in tears.
"Suck it up for Christ's sake!" West walked along into the dump, lightly kicking the fat man as he cried. He had to apply pressure to get his boot out of the gut.
West quickly dumped the body into a pile, shook the dirt off of his clothes, and looked at his watch.
Time to get to the Plaza.
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