X Marks The Spot
prompt by
"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Mike asked. He glanced over his shoulder, ensuring that Derek was still in the bathroom. "I mean. He's your uncle. That doesn't bother you?"
"You don't know him like I do.” Terry sipped his beer. Budweiser, working class. He snubbed his cigarette out and lit another. “He deserves it.”
“That’s not up for question.” Mike shrugged. “What I mean is, it’s heavy, is all. Taking life. It’s not a simple thing. You don’t know. Cause you’ve never done it. So don’t be doing this deal just because Derek wants you to.”
“Don’t question me.” Terry eyed Mike, his face tensing up, his pupils dilated. Guys on meth, Mike noted.
Derek returned from the bathroom, cigarette dangling from his grinning mouth. He stretched his arms out to Mike and Terry, the gristle on his chin showing. “Boys,” he said. “Let’s get over this plan a final time, then, eh fuckers?”
Derek walked over to his bar and brought back three more beers. The empty bar, Jerry’s, had been his fathers, who, incidentally, was also not named Jerry. “Terry, what are you going to do?”
Terry sipped his beer and began. “I’m going to come along on his fishing trip that he takes every Sunday. I’ll communicate it to him in person. I’ll tag along up to his favorite fishing trip at Red Top State Park. I’ll get him nice and drunk so I drive back.”
Derek turned to Mike. “And you?”
“I’ll be ready and waiting at the gas station of the 4-1-1. I put a gun to their head and demand cash. Terry says there’s cash back at his Uncle John’s place, not far off. And, if he’s right, there is, buried in the backyard. The house is off the main road, far from neighbors, so it’ll just be the two of us."
“And I’ll be following y’all there.” Derek nodded. “We get the cash, kill the old man and make it all look like an accident.” Derek leaned in close to them. Mike could smell the cheap bourbon and cigarettes on his breath. “Now, not one of you is going to fuck this up, because I’m not going back to prison. So I’m going to make this crystal-fucking-clear for y’all. You do it all like I say. Exactly like I say, and there’s no trouble. Understand? No trouble aside from you having the problem of which hooker you want stick your Mr. Franklin into for the evenin’, undestand?”
Derek extended his hand to Mike. Mike shook it, looking him firm in the eyes. This was Derek’s ritual before a job. He’d seen it all before.
Terry was next. He took Derek’s hand. But Derek didn’t let go.
“You lying to me about your Uncle Jon burying his loot in the back yard? About what he did to you? You lying to me now, boy?”
Terry stared Derek in the eyes. “I’m not. So promise me that I get to be the one to do it.”
And this is my ending
"The best trout in the whole damn country," said Uncle Jon as he threw the hook, "boy, have you heard the legend of the bananafish?"
Terry made sure that his uncle's glass of whiskey remained full at all times. The alcohol began to have its uninhibiting effect on Uncle Jon, who now spoke with a confidence and intimacy he had never had with his nephew.
"I wanted you to come fishing with me a long time ago. I'm glad you asked me, I didn't have the courage to invite you", the old man's voice was a bit crooked. "Are you a real man now? You go fishing, you look for your food! I wasted no time with you, when you came home you were a spoiled child, weak, but I strengthened your character ..."
"What the fuck are you talking about, man?" Terry interrupted. "I was an orphan child. How could you put me through all that? Are you crazy?"
"Well, if I compare myself to your grandfather, I've been mother Teresa to you. You needed character and I gave it to you, with a strong hand, there was no other way, even so, if you think I was very hard on you, I apologize".
A knot formed in his throat, was the first time that his uncle apologized to him for the abuse of his childhood, moved away so that his uncle did not see the tears that began to escape from his eyes, after a while returned, silently, filled his uncle's glass and took his fishing rod.
"Soon you'll stop talking shit, you'll see," Terry thought, the plan was still in place.
"Do you remember the X marked in the courtyard of the house?" asked the completely drunk uncle, they were arriving at the gas station where Mike would be waiting for half an hour ago "I have dug up the loot and now I have it here in my pocket".
"How's that?" Terry asked, bewildered.
"See that nice pickup parked at the gas station? The black one. Well, now you're a man, you can't walk around like a child walking or taking a bus, you need a vehicle to represent you and that pickup is yours now, here are the keys, take them".
"Hold it right there!" surprised Mike's voice as he pointed his gun at the old man, "Stay still, birdy, get out of the car and do nothing weird."
The old man had already had many emotions in one day and his heart could not bear the emotion of fear of an assault, cardiac arrest was imminent.
Terry reacted quickly, more by instinct than anything else. "Shit! Hurry up Mike, get in and drive, we're going to the hospital."
"What do you mean, hospital? It's done! What could be more accidental than a cardiac arrest? Didn't you want him dead?"
"Not like this Mike, not like this.
"Those kids will pay me back," Derek swore, watching from afar as his accomplices and the victim drove away at full speed on a course contrary to what they had agreed.
The End.
This is my participation for the Finish The Story - Week #60 from 
Thank you for reading.
