Christopher's Journey: Sometimes it takes being lost to find yourself Page 5
Chapter 3
Chris stared at himself, up and down. He raised the collar of his new conjoined C’s embroidered black, leather jacket. It was finally his. He had earned it. He pulled on the front of it practicing his ‘bad boy’ look in the mirror. With a swift motion, he yanked out his hand gun and pointed it into his reflection. Chris liked the gun but couldn’t imagine ever using it. Just the threat of it should be enough without endangering lives.
‘As long as no one finds out...’ he thought as he released the clip and emptied out the bullets. He placed them in between his mattresses and returned the clip to the gun.
Tonight was the night of his first big job. A jewelry store. Chris was as excited as he was nervous. This could be the beginning of a new life for him. He just needed the loot. He had his jacket, he had his group, he just needed more independence. This was his chance for that. He returned the gun to the back of his pants and took off out of his room, down the stairs.
Unusually, nobody was in the house. He had never heard it so quiet in there. Had everyone left on purpose? Chris watched as the clock passed midnight, then 1am. After 2am was when the streets seemed to clear out as the bar flies had already found one way or another home to pass out.
Chris thought it a good idea to scope the place out before the hit, so just a little after 1am, he headed out the door.
Overly observant of his surroundings, Chris strolled slowly through the streets of Coar City. Many people were still out but hopefully on the other side of town where the store was located would be less busy. It was mostly a retail area which closed around 9pm. He crossed 9th street and cut through the alley to 10th. He made sure he was aware but not looking too dubious, something that Joe-Z had taught him. 'Never look suspicious, even if you are. Always look like you have somewhere to be.' His words rang through Chris' head as he applied the one of many lessons.
With both hands in the pockets of his new warm, leather jacket, he took a right at 10th street knowing he was only about five blocks away from his target.
'Where had the gang gone tonight?' Chris wondered. Many scenarios crossed his mind. Perhaps they didn’t want to be home incase Chris got caught, maybe they were nearby to see the action or to test Chris to make sure he went through with it, conceivably video taping it. That thought made him nervous.
Up ahead, he spotted the store on the left hand side of the road. A small alley went beside the store that he quickly ducked into. He hadn’t seen anyone on this street so far but decided to stake out the area a little longer to see if anyone would appear.
He wished he had done some research on the security of jewelry stores. He knew all of them had security systems, most of them using lasers. He had not skilled himself to deal with the fancy footwork of drilling a hole in the glass and crawling through the lasers like a gymnast, as he’d seen on the movies. His approach would have to be swiftness. He was going to break through the door, smash through the cases, take what he could and bolt. He figured how long it would take the police to arrive and estimated that he had close to three minutes to get in and grab all he could.
Earlier that week, he had strolled through the store, stating that he needed an engagement ring for his girlfriend. The looks he received suggested that they knew he was too young to possibly get married but showed him the diamond ring display hoping for a sale, anyway. The diamonds were in the back counter while the other gems were in the cases to the left. The watches, bracelets and necklaces were in the cases to the right.
He had thought carefully to what would provide him the most profit. The diamonds? The watches? Surely it would be easiest to steal the necklaces since scooping up the chains would give him a better handful.
Standing in the alley for over a half hour and seeing no one in sight, he decided to make his move. He took one step forward, then back again. He wanted to go but something held him back. His conscience? His grandma?
“I will always be with you and I will always watch over you.” His grandma’s words stung through his brain. Was she watching him right now? How could he let her down like this?
He shook the thoughts away and proceeded toward the door. It was now or never. He pulled the crow bar from his jeans, took one more look around and swung it through the front door.
Instantly, the glass shattered, lights flashed and a loud, school bell sounding alarm deafened him. It took him a second to snap out of a brief shock from the brightness, the ear piercing sound and the flying shards of glass. He blinked hard and ran into the store straight back to the diamonds. With all of his might, he bore the bar down onto the display case only to spider web the glass. Again he tried and again. He was breaking the glass but couldn’t quite get through. The cases seemed to hold more strength than the front door which made little sense to Chris.
He ran over to the watch display and tried to shatter the side rather than the top. Same luck. It was not going to completely break in the time Chris had given himself. He was running out of that time. He glanced out the door as a small group of people stood across the street watching him with wide eyes.
Witnesses! Even if he got away, they’d be able to make a statement to what he was wearing or possibly what he looked like even though he wore a black hooded sweatshirt under his jacket which concealed his face.
He had to get out of there but he refused to leave empty handed. He swooped up several of the necklaces that hung on a rack on top of the counter and ran toward the door, slipping on the scattered, broken glass. He recovered his stumbles and bolted out the hole in the front door. As he sprinted down the alley, he could hear the police sirens surrounding the building.
Even though his legs felt like jelly, he pushed them to move faster and faster until they felt separated from his body. He wasn’t even watching where he was going but the further he went, it seemed the sirens were not fading. He was being followed. He whipped into another alley and dove into the nearest dumpster.
Ignoring the horrid smell of the garbage, he struggled to catch his breath, his heart thumped so hard and fast that he was certain it would be heard and would be the cause of his capture.
Chris clenched his eyes shut. All of that seemed to be for nothing. He didn’t even get what he went in there for. All he could grab was a handful of useless, out of the display necklaces which meant they were near worthless. He could get maybe $50.00 for the bunch. How could he start over with that?
The time seemed an eternity when Chris decided to peek out of his hiding spot. He kneeled onto a heap of trash and carefully lifted the lid. He looked to his right... nothing, to his left... nothing. Had he gotten away?
The very moment that his body began to relax, he saw the flicker of a flashlight entering the alleyway. Startled, Chris ducked not realizing that doing so made the dumpster lid drop.
“Over here!” he heard shouts.
Chris panicked. Where could he go, did he have time to jump out and run? The ideas cluttered his mind and froze his body as the lid swung open and multiple guns cocked.
“LET ME SEE YOUR HANDS! GET YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!”
In defeat, Chris complied. He was dragged from the dumpster, slammed onto the concrete and cuffed. His first big heist and he failed. Failed miserably.
18 months Later . . .
“Christopher James Scholt, 17 year old, white male.” The bailiff announced as she led Chris to the front of the Judges desk in the large courtroom.
“Christopher Scholt."
“It’s CHRIS!“ he said through clenched teeth and tight lips.
“You have been charged with your third offense of aggravated robbery. You are obviously a nuisance to society but since you’re weapon was not loaded and the fact that you are, indeed, still a minor, I would be forced to give you the minimum sentence of five to ten years in the Coar County Maximum Security Correctional Facility. However, you did accept the plea bargain from the prosecuting attorney for yo
ur information about the Coar City gang. Therefore, Chris Scholt, I sentence you to two to five years.”
Chris struggled to look the judge in the eye. His emotions ranged from shame to rage. At any moment he could either break down in a wall of tears or go on a rampage and tear apart the court room. Neither would help his situation, so he went numb and concentrated on only staying on his feet.
“If I may add.” the judge continued. “I’m extremely disappointed that your stay at the home for troubled teen boys didn’t correct you. You have your entire life ahead of you. Now is the time to turn it around and make an honest life for yourself. It is possible and I believe you have the potential to do so, you just need to find that potential.”
Chris stared blankly. The kind words with no reaction from Chris seemed to irritate the judge.
“Bailiff, take him away.” He finally said, curtly.