like a dog with a bone. Jeez.”
James said nothing. They turned onto Kent Avenue. Bianco was looking up at the next turn, when two black SUVs coming toward them turned and screeched to a stop right in front of the truck.
Bianco heard packages in the back tumbling to the floor. “Asshole!”
A man with a black wool mask covering his face, and dark shades wrapped around his head on top of the mask, came out of the passenger side of the smaller SUV with a gun. He pointed it right at Bianco. Another man in a wool mask came out of the same SUV and ran around to Bianco’s side.
“Get out of the truck,” he said.
“What the fucking fuck is this?” said Bianco.
“Just follow along and you’ll live,” said one of the men. He had a thick beard. “Just chillax.”
“Chillax?”
They took him out of the truck and prodded him into one of the SUVs. They duct-taped his hands behind him and duct-taped his mouth.
* * *
They had been planning since the night James got back from his first day of work. They were sitting around, drinking beers and watching porn.
“You should’ve seen all that stuff we delivered today. Like half a million worth,” James said. “All the money people spend on Christmas. It’s sick.”
“I hate Christmas,” Aaron said. He was a big man, with a thick beard and a skunk streak of white through his brown greasy hair.
“Me, too,” Ryan said. Ryan was Aaron’s brother who, for some reason, couldn’t grow a beard. “Imagine if we, like, hijacked the truck and took all the stuff.”
“Yeah, but what would we do with it?” James said.
“Keep it. Or sell it on eBay.”
“There’s even porn in there,” James said. “Frank, the driver, told me some guy gets all this porn stuff delivered to his house from Chatsworth, California.”
“Porn Valley, USA,” said Aaron.
“What’s this driver like?”
“Old Italian guy.”
“Mafia, you think?”
James laughed, but he had wondered.
“Do you think you could take him?” said Ryan.
“Who needs to take him if we had a gun?” said Aaron.
“Like we have a gun.”
Their friend Hamilton, who never took off his wraparound shades, came out of the bathroom then. “Gun? Who needs a gun?”
They kidded about it for a few days. Then James told them that the driver had said big shipments for all the stores on Bedford would be coming in the following week.
“It’d be the sweetest Christmas shopping ever,” said Ryan.
“I love Christmas,” said Aaron.
When Hamilton showed up with a gun the next day, they all wanted one.
* * *
Bianco’s wife had told him to retire. Judy had gotten tired of his working late every night during the holiday season, even on Christmas Eve sometimes. “You’re not frigging Santa Claus,” she said. But he could make several grand in year-end tips. And then there were the fringe benefits.
He had been reprimanded several times for undelivered packages. “Packages go missing all the time,” he would say. And then people on the Internet would throw money at you for an ebook reader, fancy boots, a flat-screen TV once.
Judy saw the stuff piling up in the garage. “What are you, frigging Santa Claus?”
There’s a lot of bills to take care of and a lot of your relatives to take care of, he thought to say. But he just said, “Leave it alone. Go back to your flat-screen TV.”
In the SUV, Bianco heard the door on the other side open, to his right, felt the cold outside air come in. The seat shifted weight. The door slammed. He figured it was James, trussed up like he was. Two turkeys.
The front doors opened. People got in. The car started moving. From behind him, Bianco heard the engine of his truck rev up, then move.
The SUV stopped. He heard his truck behind him screech then make a turn. Whoever was driving it had a lead foot. Then the engine faded, like it was going inside a building.
Shit like this happened all the time, he knew. Last year robbers held a FedEx
James said nothing. They turned onto Kent Avenue. Bianco was looking up at the next turn, when two black SUVs coming toward them turned and screeched to a stop right in front of the truck.
Bianco heard packages in the back tumbling to the floor. “Asshole!”
A man with a black wool mask covering his face, and dark shades wrapped around his head on top of the mask, came out of the passenger side of the smaller SUV with a gun. He pointed it right at Bianco. Another man in a wool mask came out of the same SUV and ran around to Bianco’s side.
“Get out of the truck,” he said.
“What the fucking fuck is this?” said Bianco.
“Just follow along and you’ll live,” said one of the men. He had a thick beard. “Just chillax.”
“Chillax?”
They took him out of the truck and prodded him into one of the SUVs. They duct-taped his hands behind him and duct-taped his mouth.
* * *
They had been planning since the night James got back from his first day of work. They were sitting around, drinking beers and watching porn.
“You should’ve seen all that stuff we delivered today. Like half a million worth,” James said. “All the money people spend on Christmas. It’s sick.”
“I hate Christmas,” Aaron said. He was a big man, with a thick beard and a skunk streak of white through his brown greasy hair.
“Me, too,” Ryan said. Ryan was Aaron’s brother who, for some reason, couldn’t grow a beard. “Imagine if we, like, hijacked the truck and took all the stuff.”
“Yeah, but what would we do with it?” James said.
“Keep it. Or sell it on eBay.”
“There’s even porn in there,” James said. “Frank, the driver, told me some guy gets all this porn stuff delivered to his house from Chatsworth, California.”
“Porn Valley, USA,” said Aaron.
“What’s this driver like?”
“Old Italian guy.”
“Mafia, you think?”
James laughed, but he had wondered.
“Do you think you could take him?” said Ryan.
“Who needs to take him if we had a gun?” said Aaron.
“Like we have a gun.”
Their friend Hamilton, who never took off his wraparound shades, came out of the bathroom then. “Gun? Who needs a gun?”
They kidded about it for a few days. Then James told them that the driver had said big shipments for all the stores on Bedford would be coming in the following week.
“It’d be the sweetest Christmas shopping ever,” said Ryan.
“I love Christmas,” said Aaron.
When Hamilton showed up with a gun the next day, they all wanted one.
* * *
Bianco’s wife had told him to retire. Judy had gotten tired of his working late every night during the holiday season, even on Christmas Eve sometimes. “You’re not frigging Santa Claus,” she said. But he could make several grand in year-end tips. And then there were the fringe benefits.
He had been reprimanded several times for undelivered packages. “Packages go missing all the time,” he would say. And then people on the Internet would throw money at you for an ebook reader, fancy boots, a flat-screen TV once.
Judy saw the stuff piling up in the garage. “What are you, frigging Santa Claus?”
There’s a lot of bills to take care of and a lot of your relatives to take care of, he thought to say. But he just said, “Leave it alone. Go back to your flat-screen TV.”
In the SUV, Bianco heard the door on the other side open, to his right, felt the cold outside air come in. The seat shifted weight. The door slammed. He figured it was James, trussed up like he was. Two turkeys.
The front doors opened. People got in. The car started moving. From behind him, Bianco heard the engine of his truck rev up, then move.
The SUV stopped. He heard his truck behind him screech then make a turn. Whoever was driving it had a lead foot. Then the engine faded, like it was going inside a building.
Shit like this happened all the time, he knew. Last year robbers held a FedEx
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