Send In
Justin Lowmaster
What other are saying about Send In
“It’s a kick in the pants between the legs and a fun story to boot.”
−Dave Avila - https://www.thejadedvisalian.com
“The tension of the first part kept me interested. I kept wondering ‘What's he going to do with thing in the wagon?’”
−Chuck Heintzelman - https://chuckheintzelman.com/
Send In
Justin Lowmaster
Copyright 2010 Justin Lowmaster
Cover Art by
Jeff Dehut
See his art at https://explosivelimes.com
Send In
By Justin Lowmaster
Jeremy shuddered as he loaded the crate into the back of his small red truck. He fidgeted with the tailgate door to get it to latch properly. Dealing with an arms dealer had been a far different experience than he had expected. Considering the trail of contacts he went through to find him, he'd expected a gangster with excessive bling. The man he finally met with talked like a businessman and wore a plain, yet expensive looking, suit. He was also cold and unemotional. It made sense, though. How would some street gangster get a hold of some high grade military hardware? But he had some now, didn't he? He pushed the crate back. It stopped short of the cab. A quick check and Jeremy found his duffel bag full of baseball gear. He put it on the back seat and went back to securing the crate. Once he was done, he took to the streets.
Jeremy drove with extra care even though the roads were free of heavy traffic. The tarp over the crates flapped in the wind. Jeremy peeked back often to make sure it hadn't flown away. A car horn blared and Jeremy looked back at the road and screeched to a halt just inches from the tail end of a van. He waited in horror for the driver to storm out of the vehicle and yell at him. The light turned green and the traffic began moving again. The small baseball player on his dash bobbled its head up and down. Jeremy glared at it.
"Stop laughing.
***
While nearing the high rise apartments, Jeremy kept a careful eye on the cars ... but none of the smaller models looks suspicious. Either a single driver, or the normal families driving off to get dinner, or maybe to see a movie. He pulled into the parking garage and parked in his normal spot, way too far from the elevator. Checking to see that few cars drove around the garage, he decided that it was as good a time as any to make for the elevator. Struggling with the bulky dark green crate, he managed to get it onto the Radio Flyer without dropping it. The crate hung off the end, but he managed to cover it with the tarp. The only real trouble happened when his necklace caught on one of the latches. He rolled for the elevator. The wheels squeaked and the wagon did not maneuver well under all the weight.
As he neared, he saw a man in a baseball cap making for the elevator. Deciding that stopping in the middle of the garage would be too suspicious, he kept going. Jeremy reached the elevator a few moments ahead and he pressed the 'up' button. The other man arrived and also pressed the lit up button and stood beside Jeremy. Jeremy didn't make eye contact and stood still until the elevator arrived. He rolled the wagon in and pressed the button for the top floor. The man got in and pressed a button for some middle floor and stood right beside the wagon.
A quick glance revealed that the tarp had slid off slightly. If he looked, would the man have any idea what was in the crate? He didn't look like a military man; he looked more like a fisherman. There were fishing flies on his hat. The man took out his keys and began sorting through the massive number of them. While doing so, he dropped the keys and they fell into the wagon. Jeremy held his breath, but didn't look. The man hesitated for a moment before reaching into the wagon. He felt a moment for the keys and Jeremy heard them jingle, but the man didn't pull them out right away. Jeremy turned slightly to try and look without it being obvious. Was the man looking at the crate? The man looked up at Jeremy, hand still under the tarp, lifting it a little bit. The elevator stopped and the doors opened as the man pulled the keys out. He turned to Jeremy.
"Sorry about that. I had a Radio Flyer as a kid, brought back memories."
He glanced at Jeremy's chest.
"Hey, neat necklace, I like the design. Have a good day!"
He stepped out of the elevator and the doors shut. Jeremy released the breath he had been holding, making him feel deflated. He had come too far for everything to go wrong now. It would be a tragedy if he failed.
The elevator continued its ascent to the top floor. Once there, the doors opened and three kids crowded in. A woman, presumably their mother, stood outside.
"Hey, let this man out first! Don't be so rude."
The two boys and one girl cowered out of the elevator and made room for Jeremy to exit, wagon in tow. The woman leaned towards him slightly.
"Sorry about that, Sir."
He shrugged.
"No problem."
His voice cracked when he spoke. His mouth felt like a wasteland. He rolled the wagon down the hall and around the corner. There he rolled it all the way down to the door to the roof. He pulled out a set of keys and found the one he needed. He tried to open the door ... nothing happened. Jeremy's blood chilled. Had the janitor noticed it had gone missing and changed the lock? Jeremy tried again. The door did not budge. He pulled they key out and looked at it. Idiot! That was his apartment key. He did his best to calm down and found the right key, which looked similar. This time the door opened and Jeremy made sure no one walked the hallway and picked up the crate, hauling it up the stairs to the roof. Each step threatened to throw him off balance. He sat it in the shade of the stairway cover. Sweating from the exertion, he retrieved the wagon and parked it near the doorway. He locked the door and took a moment to rest, thankful for the cool rooftop air.
