Ed Was The Lucky One – Xperience Fiction

Ed Was The Lucky One – Xperience Fiction – by Liam Sweeny.

Ed was the lucky one.

It was Ed’s turn to drive the getaway car that Saturday night, as Carl, in his drunken stupor so eloquently reminded him.

“Your turn motherf**ker!” he slurred, “Ya’ wanna play, ya’ gotta pay!”

Carl’s favorite saying. He was f**king crazy; Ed was surprised he’d made it as long as he had without killing anybody. Half his life he’d spent in jail, the other half he spent giving society reasons to put him there. Ed could remember when he’d first hooked up with Carl, at Joey Knight’s bonfire kegger behind the old Elias Jones Elementary School playground. Everyone who was cool in those days went, and Carl was the nexus of all things illegal, which, at that age, meant drugs and alcohol. Truly he was the life of the party, the light the social moths-turned-butterflies were drawn to. Ed was one of them.

Ed had a car, a late eighties station wagon he bought from his parents with the money he’d saved. He worked at Pizza Place, saving every dime ‘til he had a thousand for his mom and three hundred for registration, insurance and a few minor fixes. He’d just turned eighteen, legal to drive by himself at night when he got a fateful call.

Not from Carl. That was another fateful call. The first call was from Pizza Place, to inform him that he was fired. Infuriated, Ed hung up the phone that day without a second thought. Then he got a call from Carl. Carl had jobs of his own.

The first one was simple. Two department stores; Carl and Joey would boost from one, and Ed would return the stuff to the other one. They never hit the same department store chain twice. But they ran out of stores. Then they started holding up gas-stations, hands thrust into the side pockets of their hoodies, holding a Zippo top up front as a mock gun barrel. They only did a couple of those; there were cameras, and they sure as hell weren’t trying to get caught. Carl swore he’d never go back to jail again. Ed was young enough to believe it meant that Carl would be smart.

“We’re hitting Pizza Place tonight,” Carl said, “Not the one you worked at; the other one.” He was referring to the one in Helmsley.

“I know people who work there too, dumbass.”

“It don’t matter, dumbass,” Carl replied, “I got it all figured out. They won’t even be thinkin’ of you.”

“Whatever…”

“Are you in?”

“Yeah, I guess…”

“Yes or no, asshole!” Carl said impatiently.

“Yes, OK?” Ed replied, “God-damnit, Carl, so f**kin’ pushy.”

“Seven-thirty,” Carl said, “Meet us at the bonfire spot. They’re havin’ a party; everyone’ll be shit-faced by the time we leave.”

Ed was the lucky one with a getaway car pulled up behind Elias Jones, gasping as Carl pulled out a chrome-plated Desert Eagle .44 Magnum. At least that’s what Carl said it was; Ed didn’t know shit about guns.

“Are you out of your f**kin’ mind?” Ed darted his head around, fearful of on-lookers, “You can’t use that.”

“No kidding, moron,” Carl replied, “I’m just gonna’ bring it; that’s all.”

Ed was the lucky one, young enough to believe Carl when he said the gun was just for show. He drove the getaway car to Helmsley, parking the back of the lot as Carl and Joey burst into Pizza Place, ski masks covering their faces. Ed stared at the dashboard clock, each beat of the colon making him more and more nervous. Suddenly he saw Carl and Joey running. Ed turned the ignition, and they took off as soon as Carl had his body in. In his haste, Ed slammed the half-open door against the car next to him.

“F*ck!” He said.

“F*ck it, Ed, MOVE!” Carl shouted. They took off on East Avenue, reaching Route 3, hoping they weren’t seen or recognized.

Ed was the lucky one two minutes later, as the car was stopped on the side of the road. Red and blue flashing pulses, strobes of law-and-order shone through his rear-view as the cop walked up to the driver’s-side window. Ed was scared to death of Carl. He looked over to see that the gun wasn’t in his hand. But Carl had it; that’s what mattered.

“Sir, can you please step out of the car?” The cop said. Not even a license-and-registration check. He was on to them.

Ed was trembling as he slowly opened the door. As he stepped out, the cop asked Ed to follow him back to the patrol car. It was there that he asked for Ed’s license and registration. Ed wanted desperately to warn him that Carl had a gun. Carl would get them the death sentence for sure. But Ed feared Carl, and if they wound up in the same prison, Carl would know he snitched.

Just as Ed was making up his mind to warn the cop, one shot rang out from the car. Then another shot and the sound of glass splintering. The cop drew his gun, but the car was silent. Ed poked his head up to see the rear windshield cracked, and tinted cloudy red. The cop opened the passenger door and Ed could hear the sound of Joey’s body hitting the gravel shoulder.

Ed was the lucky one.

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