10 Days til Nirvana (Draft; part I)
Day 10
“That’s it man, 10 days,”
“This is really fucked that your telling me dude. You shouldnt’ve told me. This is gonna fuck with my head man. Don’t do it.”
“10 days, and I’m at peace. How is that a bad thing?”said Zach into the phone.
“Really? youre really gonna ask me that?” said the orange haired James.
“I’m just sayin man, from my perspective it’s not bad at all, its glorious.”
James puffed distraught,“You’re using my one phone call a month to tell me this?” he paused and swiped his forehead slowly. “Shit, I would’ve called someone else.”
Zach was cool in his response, “The only reason I’m telling you is cuz you can’t tell anyone else. Im sure you’ve figured that out by now.” The smug grin crept its way up his slender face. “Its the perfect set up.” It reached its peak, “Gorgeous.”
“Fuck you,” James said defeated.
“If you tell anybody, who the fucks gonna believe you? you’re in the Federal Pen,” laughed Zach.
“Fuck you twice,” said the 21-year-old in the jumpsuit.
“Its gonna be a great 10 days tho, I’ll tell you that much. Like the Bucket List on crack.”
“This is so fucked, I’m gonna figure out a way to stop you man. Dont do this shit,” James pleaded.
“10 days and I’m gone brotha. I gotta go though. This shit ain’t worth a buck a minute,” Zach laughed, “You know I love ya though man. For real. There is nothing you can do. No guilt.”
“Don’t do it man, your only 20.”
“Not for long. 10 days mothafucka. Peace out.”
“ill talk to you in a month,” was James last resort.
“No you won’t,”
All that was left for James heard was a dial tone.
Zach leaned back in his porch chair and breathed a long sigh of relief. He had to tell someone his plan. James was not only his best friend, but the only person who couldn’t do a thing to stop him. He lit a Newport and breathed a second, deeper sigh. It felt so good. This feeling of calmness melted with elation and resolve had eluded him for months, could have been years for all he knew. He didn’t know. He stepped from the sunporch barefoot in to the grass. He never liked the feeling of grass on his feet until now.
“I’d like anything right about now,” Zach said to the fresh air taking in the calm Michigan night. “Now to plan the next 9 days.”
He flicked the butt and made his way down to his basement, the plan formulating in his mind
Day 9
The decision had been made the previous night to ease into his 9 day spree. For Zach it wasn’t so much a spree, as 9 days of pure and simple freedom. Today would be simple, get a nice car.
He was deciding between Beamer and Porshe.
Shit! he thought, realizing the answer to his dilemma was right behind him: Tony’s Baby; his neighbor’s amazing specimen of an automobile.
He wasn’t even his neighbor, so there was no chance of amiss scruples for Zach. He was simply the guy who owned the two lots behind his house, and the mansion behind those two lots. He did happen to grow up in the same area as Zach’s father, but that was no matter either. The mansion filled with nothing but Tony, the rich asshole who couldn’t even bother to take care of his property, save once a month on his 3000 dollar riding lawnmower, The Lazer.
Tony’s was the one.
It was a Monday, so he knew Tony would be at work. Zach figured Tony was to cocky for a security system, and he didn’t care if one happened to be armed. He would go in and come out again.
Zach hopped the rotting fence separating their yards, and smoked a Newp as he walked across the field. He didn’t even try the door,instead punching through the window with his bare fist with only the smallest grimace. He finished the cig inside and put it out on his arm, as he would with every cig for the remaining 9, soon to be 8, days.
Zach slowly walked about the house knocking down pictures, punching wholes in walls, destroying anything he felt like. The 80 inch tv he took special pleasure in kicking down cop style. Zach had always wanted to try that.
We should probably find the keys shit head, he thought to himself.
He soon located them next to the keys to the Porsche, the Shelby Mustang GT 500, the Benz, and his the one he would take. Zachary Bradley had never smiled bigger than he did at this moment, right now. This was his first real step on the path to freedom.
Talk about stickin it to the man.
He grabbed the keys and made his way destructively to the garage. Tearing down this and that, kicking wholes in walls, giving up his arm-ashtray to put his Newport out on Tony’s graduation picture, the face of course. The only pictures in his house were of Tony.
And I thought my life was depressing.
The garage, finally. He once again utilized his cop kick and busted through the side door. There was the Porsche, the Mustang, the Benz, and his new ride. Zach felt like he was in a movie, brushing his hand gently down the side of the hood to the door.
“Oh, the things im gonna do to you baby,” he said as his depression lifted a little more, and he smiled a real smile, not the fake cynical smile he was so used to.
He put the key in the ignition and revved the engine in neutral yelling, “God damn,” competing with the engine noise, and failing.
He threw the shifter into first, and without bothering to open the garage door, blasted through it into the driveway, across the front yard and finally skidded into the conveniently open street.
Never thought I’d be driving a Ford GT, he thought, then added, At all, let alone before my 21st birthday. This is going to be fun.
He blew through the red light and headed to the highway, hitting 120 mph before the next mile road came up.
Just gotta hit the freeway…
Day 7
Seven days until Zach turned 21. And then his plan could reach fulfillment. He had his usual breakfast of cigarettes and toothpaste and prepared himself for the day. Day Seven required a bit more planning than the previous day. He grabbed the necessary supplies from his house and loaded them into his ’93 Lumina.
“Fuckin A/C,” Swore Zach, wishing it worked on days like this, 80 degrees and muggy, thunderstorm watch until 8pm.
Perfect for me he thought. A thunderstorm would not only match his mood, but would be good cover for the days events. Day seven equaled seven liquor stores. He knew robbing a liquor store was a bit cliché, but seven in one day seemed original enough, and Zach liked to be original.
Maybe I shoulda been nicer to the GT. Looting seven liquor stores would’ve been way cooler in a GT. And people would’ve been like ‘What the fuck is going on,’ he laughed to himself at the thought, as well as at the previous days events. It had been everything he dreamed. That car was truly a beautiful creation.
Now that’s something to live for, if only it was mine, and not buried in the side of a building in the D.
The Lumina would have to do for today. The plan was never to keep the GT. Each day was a seperate activity, a step closer to ultimate freedom.
Where was the one place one could rob seven liquor stores and get away scott free, in Michigan at least? The D. Detroit was the closest thing to the wild west these days. Zach had thought all this through and was heading down I-96 to set things in motion. He ditched his car in Redford and caught a bus, backpack loaded for the rest of the day. It was noon.
Day 6
“Call from Arizona Federal Penitentary, do you accept?” droned the robotic voice on the other side of the call.
“Uh yeah sure,” said Zach.
“Yo, you’re still alive at least,” James said after a few seconds of silence.
“How the fuck are you calling me?”
“I thought you’d be a little happier to hear from me.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“You dont want to fucking know. I’m giving you one last chance man. I’ll figure out a way to get another call and I’m gonna call your Dad.”
“Fuck you. You’re right, I don’t wanna know. I don’t give a shit. But if you fuck this up for me I swear to god or Buddha or who-the-fuck-ever that I will kill you, if it’s the last thing I do. I’m not fucking joking with you,” Zach spat into the phone furious, his mind racing.
“I dont give a shit bro, you could kill me, but whatever. I have to stop you.”
“You can’t stop me,” Zach said suddenly calm, cold, and ended the call.
He took a deep breath and thought again, You can’t stop me James, no one can. I will do this until the end, no matter what it takes. I know the cost. I am the cost.
This hiccup could be overcome, even played into. Zach knew he could out think James, and his Dad, and whoever else he had too. He would be victorious. The plan would have to be altered of course, but his mind was already turning. His cruel smile crept up to his cheeks as an idea blossomed, and it was quickly blooming into a much more diabolical one than the one already in motion.
Well I suppose I owe James a thank you, this will be much more fun. I shoulda thought of this from the start. Fuckin dumbass.
Unfortunately, today’s events would have to be cancelled Zach decided. This would require much more planning than the last few days, which still seemed like a dream.
I thought lucid dreaming was cool, life is fucking cool. But only when you’re free. And I am free.
Zach added the cherry of his cigarette to his arm, which was already full of the little circle scabs from the pack or pack and a half a day he smoked. He went to his cave in the basement, and plotted.
5 days, and I am truly free.
To be continued…
denton 