Lifestyle & Culture

TALES FROM THE MOSAIC CRYPT: THE JOB

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Our tales continue. So turn off the lights and read on if you dare…

 

THE JOB

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(Mosaic Artwork was provided by Mosaics Lab)
He sat in a corner of the club’s smoking room, a glass of Chateau Lafite in one hand and a Cuban cigar in the other. “I know you’re broke,” he said before I could engage him in a more casual conversation. “An unfortunate situation that luckily has a solution.”
“If I knew of a solution I wouldn’t be in this mess,” I replied grimly.
“The solution is me,” he said as he exhaled a ring of smoke. “I have a job that will pay a hundred thousand dollars.”
I should have walked away right then and there but I didn’t…Wish I knew! But I was desperate for cash! “What kind of job?” I asked.
“Someone forgot their bag near the reception.”
I laughed. “Are you saying there will be a bunch of 100 dollar bills in there?”
A faint smile crawled across his lips as he leaned closer. “No, nothing as blatant as this. I need you to take the bag and toss it in the dumpster down on 5th Ave.”
“5th? That’s several blocks from here.”
He turned towards the stained glass window and nodded. “A little walk will do you some good. One more thing, don’t look at the contents.”
“Why?”
Another puff of smoke rose from his purplish lips. “It’ll be …better for you that way.” With this, he put down his glass and stood up. “In the next five minutes, the owner will return to look for the missing bag so if you want the job, better hurry.” Then he left.I waited for another minute while mulling things over. What the heck, I finally thought, I can at least check if there really is an abandoned bag near the reception. I don’t need to do anything about it, just look. The bag was there. No one seemed to pay attention to it. So I took it and walked away. I glanced around me, expecting someone to pull me over anytime. But no one did. I made it to 5th and held the bag over the dumpster in the alley. All I needed to do was drop it but instead, I opened it and looked inside. There was a wallet with less than twenty dollars in it. In the wallet was also a picture of a young woman hugging a frail looking boy. They were both smiling. Then I found the epi-pen.The next day I received a check for 100,000 dollars from a Joe Smith for services rendered. I wanted to tear it into a million pieces, but I didn’t. I deposited it instead.

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