Flower Shop (Middle Chapter)

The smell is the first thing that catches my attention. I was standing in pitch black and smell the unmistakable scent of roses. They take me back to when I would help my mother in our backyard. The roses were her favorite part of the yard which was mostly controlled by my dad. She would be back there for hours turning the soil and clipping leaves from the wilting flowers. I miss those days, where the biggest care was getting out of helping my dad cut the grass and clean the garage.
“I know who you are” says a very sweet almost soothing voice that snaps me back to reality and makes me very aware of the darkness now. I almost wish I would have taken my chances in the sewer with the rats and terrible smell. At least down there I would know what I would be up against.
“Who are you?” I ask filling my voice with false confidence.
“I can‘t believe you‘re standing here.” the voice I can only assume is a woman’s sounds further in the distance now, almost as if from another room. There has to be a light somewhere. I can’t remember what is on the front side of the alley, which would at least give me some kind of idea to where I am. I don’t know how long I was running, or how far.
“If you’re a fan, can I get some kind of help here?” I ask. “I really can’t see at night.” There is no response. The silence goes on for what seems like ten minutes before I see the crack of light illuminate from thin air. The dim light reflects off my surroundings forming what now I can see is a hallway leading to a door. I start to walk toward the door, excited I finally have an idea of which direction I should be going. I am putting a lot of trust into someone I can’t even see. But isn’t that the way humanity should be, putting faith and trust in your fellow man to make this world a better place?
I make it to the door and turn the knob and the door opens. The light blinds me and it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. I’m standing in the back room of what I can only assume is an actual flower shop. White buckets line the floor and they are filled with different types of flowers. There are the traditional roses, tulips, orchids, even some birds of paradise.
There standing, cutting the bottoms of flowers and arranging a bouquet is a girl. She is wearing dark blue skinny jeans and a white tank top that hugs her slim figure very well. Her golden brown hair is shoulder length and is tucked underneath a red bandana. She doesn’t seem to notice me standing here; she is fixated on finishing the bouquet.
“Thank you.” I say, which the only thing I can think to say is. There is a long pause and for a moment the only sound is of her scissors snipping the tips off of the flowers that are making up what is turning out to be a very beautiful bouquet.
“You’re welcome” she finally answers and walks over to a white bucket and places the flowers gently into the water. She then begins to clean up her work station. Using a white rag to brush all the pieces she didn’t use into a brown paper bag and sets the bag next to the table she had been working on. She finally looks up and smiles at me.
“What do you think of my shop?” she asks in a playful tone, raising her arms as if for me to take in her whole store. I start to look around and notice pictures all over the wall. I am too far away to make out who or what the pictures are; the table she was working on is one of three. The other two are right next to the one she was working on. The white buckets that line the wall I can see now go throughout the entire store. Does she not understand there are probably over fifty police officers outside looking to take me to jail for a very long time.
“It’s very” I pause trying to find the right words to say. “…bright.” Is the only thing I can think of. She is way to calm in a situation like this. She walks over to the front of the store where a glass door has a “closed” sign hanging from it. She locks the door and walks over to me humming the whole time.
“Hi.” she said and extended her arm for me to shake it.
“Hey.” I say and shake her hand. For working with flowers all day her hands are extremely soft. I am at her mercy right now. I could shoot her and try to make my escape, but if she went through all this trouble to stick her neck out for me. I can at least give her a chance to say something.
She looks me up and down with a judgmental expression plastered on her face. “As much as I do admire the hood and glasses I think you need to change if you’re going to walk on out of here.” She said.
“As you can see I didn’t really bring a change of clothes, and was in a bit of a hurry.” Sarcasm might not be the best route if someone is trying to help me. “Me being able to hide who I am is the only reason I’m still out of cuffs.”
“Trust me” she says smiling “I have a feeling we’re supposed to cross paths. There are some jeans and a shirt hanging in the bathroom that I think would fit you.”
After changing in the surprisingly clean bathroom I pack my clothes in a duffle bag that was on the ground and has “Shayna’s Flower’s” embroider on the side in very nice calligraphy. The purple lettering really stands out on the black duffle bag. As I come out of the bathroom the girl is putting bouquets in buckets of water.
“Sure go ahead and use my gym bag”
“I’m sorry I just saw it lying in there and-”
“I’m kidding” she said smiling. Her smile seems to make the room a lot brighter and almost lets me forget about the hundreds of cops outside trying to arrest me. “You can come with me on a few deliveries, when we get out of the neighborhood I will take you where you need to go.”
She starts walking toward a door facing the side of the shop. She opens the door and signals for me to follow. Stepping into what I can now see is a garage all my attention is drawn to the white van with “Shayna’s Flower’s” painted on the side. Flowers wrap around the lettering painted on the side.
“Did you paint this yourself?” I ask.
“No I didn’t paint it, my brother did. He was really good at the kind of stuff.” She mumbled. Her thoughts seem to slip away, because she stopped making sense and started talking about rain. She snapped out of it. “Okay, you ready to go?” she asks. She turns and faces me, her smile suggests that things are okay. But there is worry behind her eyes and I’m pretty sure that it has nothing to do with the situation at hand.
“Do you know something I don’t?” I ask her. “Because you don’t seem to be the least bit nervous about helping me out”
“I know what I’m doing.” She assures me. “Besides if I get caught I would tell them you forced me to help you” she laughs giving me the impression she is joking, at least I hope she is joking.
As we get ready to leave I load the gym bag into the van and hop into the passenger seat. As she climbs into the car her humming is the only thing I can hear. Whatever had given her that stern expression has been pushed aside, the biggest concern for both of us now starts as soon as we open that garage door and attempt to make our way out into the street and get me as far away from this nightmare as possible. If I make it out of this I promise I will never come to this side of town again and will be more thorough when planning the next big job.
She starts the van and opens the garage door. Before we head out of the garage I turn to her.
“We never really introduced ourselves.” I say. “My name is Trey.” She turns and looks at me and smiles. “I’m Shayna” We slowly make our way onto the street; we turn right onto Main Street. The street is deserted with the exception of an older woman walking her Maltese dog across the street. I finally get my bearings and realize we are only five blocks away from Samantha’s house. I only ran five blocks? I am more out of shape than I realized. We are no more than half a block when black Pontiac cars swarm out of nowhere. We are forced to a complete stop, I am going to jail for a very long time.
“PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM AND SLOWLY EXIT THE VEHICLE” The bullhorn echoed throughout the van amplifying the demands by the Los Angeles Police department. Before I have a chance to get a full grasp of what is happening, Shayna is out of the van hands raised getting on both knees. She tricked me. This is what I get for trusting a complete stranger. I should have taken my chances in the sewer with the rats.
I start to get out of the van and before I can get to my knees I am pushed to the ground and have my hands forced behind my back and I feel the cold steel of bracelets snapping around my wrists. I sense of relief washes over me. It feels good to have my secret on the verge of getting out. I am dragged to my feet and forced into the back of a police cruiser. Well that’s it, as soon as they search the van and check the gym bag I am officially busted. Looking out the window I can see two officers digging through the van. They have my bag.
“JUST WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” yelled an officer I couldn’t see. He stormed into view. It was Sgt. Blackman. Great it figures he would want to be the one to bring me in. He takes the bag away from the officer and throws it back into the van. After slamming the door shut he hurries over to the officer who had arrested Shayna and slammed him into the car she is sitting in. After telling him something I couldn’t make out Shayna is pulled out of the car and the cuffs are taken off. She hugs Blackman and points over to me. You have got to be kidding me! I need to get out of here. I have a bobby pin in my pants. I can try and pick the lock if I can get to it. I look down and I am wearing jeans, the jeans from Shayna’s bathroom. I have nothing to help me in this situation. I can’t believe after all I have been through, all the times I have cheated death I am going to be done in by a girl who owns a flower shop.
Two officers make their way over to the car I am stuck in. They open the door and pull me out of the car. Great Blackman probably wants to be the one to take me in. The officers turn me around so I am facing the car, my cuffs are removed and before I can say anything Blackman turns me around and shakes my hand. “I am sorry for the confusion my daughter tells me you are one of her associates. We’re looking for a man who has vandalized over six federal buildings and is believed to be armed and dangerous.”
“Umm it’s-it’s okay sir.” I am barely able to get the words out of my mouth. “I hope you catch this guy, he seems very dangerous” I say as I avoid making eye contact. He turns back to Shayna gives her hug and whispers something in her here. She laughs under her breath “Don’t worry dad I’ll make sure nothing happens.”
She turned and looked at me. “We better hurry up, we have a bunch of deliveries we need to get done before 10.” She is looking at me signaling with her eyes for me to play along. “You’re right, we better get going” I say. We turn and get into the van. As the doors close I turn and say in a low tone “You have a lot of explaining to do once we get out of here.” She starts the car and puts it into gear humming the whole time. We are about a half a mile from the road block the police have set up when she starts laughing. This has to be some kind of joke. There is no way she is laughing that we just got out of that situation.
“Were you going to tell me that Blackmon is your father?” I ask her not hiding the fact I am really upset to be kept in the dark on an important fact like that. She says nothing, but looks straight ahead. “Do you think this is some kind of joke?” I continue on. I let all the emotions of the last few hours catch up to me and turn to anger. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing with him but leave me out of it!” I’m so angry I can’t think straight. I force myself to take deep breaths and to relax hopefully she will provide insight once she tells her side.
“When I first saw you on TV I was fascinated with you” she began. “The footage of you getting passed police barricades and looking as though you enjoyed every minute of it. You had a presence and this daredevil attitude that made you a story. My father told me you were a bad guy. You had no regard for the law. I believed him. I assumed like everyone else that you were going to keep everything you took for yourself. But after you let that reporter interview you about what you are doing and why you do it, you became an inspiration to everyone, even me.” She pauses and I can see the tears welting up in her eyes. “I believed my father; every time they covered you I resented you for keeping my father away from my mother and younger brother. You have no idea what he’s gone through trying to catch you.” The tears are pouring start pouring down her face “He’s a good man.” She says almost as if to convince herself.
“I’m sorry.” Are the only words I can muster. There is a lingering silence that I finally break “Your dad is not a bad guy.” I finally say. “He is doing his job. And he is right he can’t let random vigilantes take the law into their own hands.” She wipes the tears from her eyes and pulls the van over. Turning to face me I can see the sadness on her face. Before she has a chance to say anything I begin talking.
“I can’t let anything happen to the people I care about. My family is my life! My friends are my life! My community everything I care about I will do anything to protect them.” I say with determination. It is the truth. The last few hours I was worried about everyone I care about getting hurt. If I don’t steal from the corrupt and give to the needy they would suffer too.
We sit in the van watching cars pass for a few minutes before she starts the engine. “Where am I dropping you off?” she asked.
“Go up two more blocks then make a right.” I instruct her. “You can drop me off there.”
The rest of the drive is silent. The only sound is the rhythmic sound of the tires spinning underneath us. Here is a girl who has put me ahead of her own father. She decided to take a chance on someone who could possibly be armed and dangerous. This is what being a good person is about. Never making snap judgments, but getting to know someone and not taking someone else’s word about who they are. She pulls the car over on the right side of the road.
“So this is the infamous hideout of yours?” she inquires. I chuckle and look around at where exactly I am getting dropped off. “No.” I say “I didn’t even realize where I was having you drop me off. I am going to get one of my men to come and pick me up.”
She smiles at me. I reach for the door handle but stop. I turn and face her “You’re dad would be very proud of you.” I tell her. “He would be proud you are making decisions on your own and not letting anyone else influence you.” She smiles at me and wiped the tears from her eyes.
“It was very nice to meet you Trey” she said.
“It was an absolute pleasure to meet you to Shayna”
The van pulls away, my bag! I left my bag in the backseat of that van. Great I am going to have to try and get that back somehow. I walk over to a payphone and call Joel. After a few minutes I recognize his car at the stop light and head to the side walk where he can see me. This has been one hectic day. I broke into Theodore Erickson’s house, had him wire the raise he gave himself into a Switzerland bank account, got one of my best friends shot, kissed Samantha , and was chased for three blocks only to be rescued by Blackmon’s daughter who in turn gets me out of handcuffs and drives me out of the hot spot. I am going to need a long nap after this one.
“What the hell happened?” Joel asked. I can see he wanted every detail about the events that transpired. But I am too tired to elaborate right now.
“I’ll tell you and everyone once we get back.” I assure him. The answer doesn’t seem to please him but he agrees and we head off to our home away from home. “Did everyone make it out okay?” I ask.
“Yeah everyone is fine.” He answers. “Adam just got there. Doctor Weitlich brought him by. He said he’s going to be just fine.”
That’s the silver lining in an otherwise dismal morning. Driving down the freeway my eyes got heavy and I couldn’t focus. My breathing slowed and before I knew I was sound asleep driving through Pasadena headed to the place I felt safer and more secure than anywhere else in the world.