We Write Challenge 2019

The rain was heavy. Why didn’t I wear my ugly shoes? Samantha tried walking around the large puddles on the sidewalk, but they were too numerous to avoid. Her $300 heels were now soaked. She waited at the corner for the light to turn green. A car turned right in front of her and splashed gallons of water on her and others. She let out a sigh of exasperation. This new dress and these new shoes will not see the light of day at the banquet!

The day had begun on a much more promising note. Melissa had called and offered a shared trip to The Caribbean. Like always, she somehow had managed to get some unsuspecting man to fund her dalliances in the sun. A week at an all-inclusive where the most complicated decision to be made was what drink to order sounded just about right, especially since the calm, blue skies of earlier in the day had transformed to an apocalyptic deluge. Skipping the banquet was not the best career move, but attending in dripping silk plastered to the outlines of her body did not seem like a much better alternative. So, that settled it. Home to a glass of wine, a warm dry bathrobe and a little web-surfing to identify the perfect Caribbean refuge from bosses, briefs and political skullduggery.

A career at Briskel and Burk had been her dream during her entire college years. She remembered how frantic she was when she got that first interview call and now here she was 5 years later and although she was the successful lawyer she always dreamed of, she hadn't realized the cost. She was exhausted, all the time! 60 hrs a week was not exactly what she signed up for, but she should have known better. But right now, her only thought was of the breeze of the Caribbean sea and soaking up the intense heat and sun, which was just what she needed at the moment.

In the dry comfort of her one-bedroom Georgetown condo, Melissa sat with her feet tucked beneath her, researching options. St. Lucia, Barbados, Aruba and even Jamaica sounded their siren songs. 

When the email popped onto the screen, she only hoped it wasn't a senior partner with some “had to be handled right now” crisis. It wasn't. It was from Alfred Cullers, an old friend, and sometime lover who bounced in and out of her life in a comfortable and pleasing way. This email was neither comfortable nor pleasing. “Lissa, I need your help. I'm in serious trouble. Do you remember that land deal in Mexico from last year? I'm in deep...not just money. I don't want to die, but that play is on the table. No calls. I need to see you. Tomorrow at Kramers? 7:30? It's the cartels. I need you.”
“What to do? What to do?” If I meet up with Al he'll more than likely cause me to cancel my trip. Samantha will be pissed, and more importantly so will I...WTF!” Al wasn't an alarmist. If he was pulling my chain, it was for a reason. The bigger question was, did I want to get involved? Every lawyer knows that many business deals have questionable ethics and that some were downright illegal. There were lawyers that specialized in that realm of practice. Not me. Still, Al was a close friend. She had known him since they were kids. He would never walk away from her if she were in need. “Shit, shit, she would meet him at Kramers. It was early enough that it wouldn't screw up the rest of her day.

After a fitful and sleepless night, Melissa awakened to a downpour. The dark, stormy sky mirrored her emotions. Riddled with anxiety by the thought of her dear friend Alfred being in imminent danger, she decided to take off from work and table her vacation plans. Carefully rereading the email, she responded and told Alfred she’d rather they meet at Starbucks on DuPont Circle instead.

Seated at a secluded table in the rear of the bustling coffee house, Melissa watched the entrance for Alfred’s arrival. Dressed down in a sweatshirt, jeans, a ball cap, and sneakers, she was shocked by Alfred’s haggard appearance. Usually impeccably groomed and coiffed, he looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept in weeks. Voice trembling, he hugged her tightly and said, “Hold on to this flash drive for me, there are some extremely important documents on it.”

Melissa stared at the flash drive in her hand, when suddenly Alfred closed her hand and said, “My life is in your hands. Just store the damn thing in a safe place where it will be impossible to find.” “But Alfred, how the hell did you get involved with the Mexican cartel?” “It all happened so fast; but the less you know, the better,” he answered anxiously. She wanted to help him, but was having second thoughts about it, and had to restrain herself from running out; leaving her friend behind. Alfred saw the fear in her face and said, “Lissa, you are the only person I can trust to help me get out of this f--ng nightmare. I promise, no harm will come to you.” Melissa thought, what am I getting myself into? “Alright, I’m holding you to your promise!”

After handing her the flash drive and almost sudden-like, the Feds rushed in and handcuffed Alfred as they were explaining his rights. He glanced over at Melissa as he was being led away and said: “take care of my dog for me”. She nodded but was incapable of understanding why she was nodding. She, as well as the other customers, stared out the window of the cafe as the Feds put the stranger in the backseat of the black sedan and then it was gone. Melissa glanced at her phone after emerging from the numbness and noticed Samantha had texted her four times. She texted back “see you tomorrow at the airport.”

The first thing to do was to copy the contents of the flash drive to someplace encrypted and out of the reach of the Feds and anyone else. She went down the street to Kinko’s, copied the drive to another she bought along with envelopes and stamps. On the note she attached to the drive, she asked her friend Foxtrot to encrypt and protect the contents. She told him to be careful and quiet about the request. The second drive she mailed to her uncle's cabin in Vermont. She hurried home, grabbed her packed bags and her passport. She was nearly out the door when she remembered Alfred’s dog, Plato. On the way to the airport, the Lyft driver stopped at Maggie’s Care and Grooming, where she arranged for the “blue ribbon” package of feeding, watering and walking a dog she had never really liked.

Samantha was getting worried. The flight to Barbados was boarding and no sign of Melissa. Where is she? She tried her phone again, and again only voicemail. She texted her once more, and still no answer. Where is she? Although the flight still had 20 minutes until takeoff Samantha was getting especially worried, mostly because Melissa hadn't answered any of her texts the previous day. Where is she?

"I'm here, Sam!" she screamed, yelling from about 50 feet away. They immediately boarded their flight, and Samantha was hoping the mini-vacation would help her forget the D.C. weather but mostly the drama back at her office. She looked over at Melissa and knew she had a story to tell. Peering out her window, Melissa was hoping the vacation could last forever.

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Thank you:

Doman, Chicago, IL Karen Smallwood, Chicago, IL, Ron D., Chicago, IL

Marsha Cruce Tyler, Phoenix, AZ Veronica Clarke, San Benito, TX

Dale Matthews, Dallas, TX Charles R. Butts, Jr., Atlanta, GA David Killgren, Jr., Elgin, Chicago, IL